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The next day I drive to El Coyote campground where I had stayed on my trip south. I know that it is a nice place, and I hope it has not been trashed from the Semana Santa parties. When I arrive, the beach isn't littered too badly, but the winds begin to pick up and it is uncomfortable outside of the camper. The wind and litter are the final straws. With the constant struggle with communication, pervasive trash, broken mounts, military checkpoints, and now the relentless wind - I am tired of Mexico and ready to go home. This trip just isn't fun anymore.