How "tranquilo" is PdD?

The bus journey eventually (don't get me started on that debacle) ended at Punta del Diablo's busiest intersection: the convergence of three sand roads which we later dubbed, in fits of giggles, Plaza Central.

The first thing that struck me, as I wandered down the calm lane in the vague direction of the hostel, was the shabby chic eateries and watering holes that peppered the route. Take this spot, for example. An old boat with a makeshift roof, this restaurant (and others akin), serves tasty homemade meals to the Havaianas crowd.

There are no banks in the village.

[No one will tell you this in advance, because ...they are busy surfing? ...they use the barter system? ...the Tourist Information strategy session is mañana?]

I learned that one can change dollars or reais at the local food market. Or try one's luck finding the only--rather obscurely positioned and well-hidden--ATM. Hint: check on top of the highest sand dune, a few blocks from "Center," behind a restaurant and some shops. (See metal box in photo.) Who planned that one?

Apparently "No Parking," in this case, doesn't refer to dusty old motorbikes or horses...

...but the go-cart-esque dune buggy simply must decay elsewhere.

Signage guidelines follow in the "tranquilo" theme.

Someday I'll stay here:

chillaxed,

Loquinha

*Better late than never, the wee video clip of IvanOne, with a head injury and a sunburn, taking a Dune Dive.

Good Times. Good times.