I’m not a beach girl.
And I happened to have stranded in a beach resort. Great.
There was a lot of sand.

I woke up to a beetle in my toilet and a frog in my washbasin.
I had set my alarm at 5am to make it at least a little bit worth the while of being there.
Good thought. A small amount of villagers were up sweeping streets and preparing fishing nets.
They were smiling me a good morning.

An 8 hour bus ride soon became 10.
It’s like buses are created by the devil, so they would fall apart on the most unwanted moments.
Or maybe, just maybe, buses are made in Asia.

As if that wasn’t enough; I was seated right under the speakers.
There was a movie playing, with heaps of hysterical people with peeping voices and stupid coincidences. Literally no-one was watching, but my efforts to run all the way to the front of the bus to ask politely to put the volume down were proficiently neglected.
Earplugs could not fix this problem at all, and listening to music was basically cultural rape.

 

The only thing that was left for me to do was staring out the window, into the dark, for 10 hours in a row.

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