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Being woken up for breakfast would be far more acceptable if
a) we had actually slept
b) breakfast consisted of more than dry crackers and
c) our blankets weren’t stolen from us to be cleaned with hours to go and air conditioning that could make a penguin feel at home.

We were given a shot of apple juice though which was nice. When V asked for more the woman offered no explanation, she just simply said no. So we get Tia Maria galore but no more apple juice. V took this to heart and called the poor lady a crazy b*tch who steals blankets.

We now had a nice collection of bed sores and V could no longer distinguish between a dead gorilla and J. Luckily we foud a hostel super fast and it was a pretty luxurious one at that, complete with ensuite cabins, hammocks, a swimming pool and clouds of mosquitoes.

Sleepily showered and scraped the crust from our eyes we went and had some lunch with a family of wasps. Cue spastic arm flapping.

Walked around town to see what the crack was then headed back to our balcony to play cards and drink beer.

J had had enough of his long golden locks and went for a haircut at 8pm. The value quoted was a bargain but value for money dropped some what when she pulled out a lawn mower and hacked away. J’s theory is that she was the cleaner and was looking to make a quick buck. V’s theory was that J had walked in with his ridiculous paedophile glasses on and she cut his hair to suit them. Either way he looked like he had been in a fight, but it would do.

Later in the evening we walked to a Market area and had picada’s, which is pikey wedding-type nibbles of salami, cheese, ham and olives, eatevery camply with a cocktail stick. Sounds delicious but it was disappointing. The salami was tasteless, which was better than the rubber cheese. And the ham was so bad that we played a pretty disgusting game with it. But the beer was good!

Feeling slightly peckish we shared a meal between us. I’ll give you three guesses what it was. But this time the steak came with oriental style veg, for a bit of variation in our lives. The wine was a malbec. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

Can you tell from all this ranting that V has got the painters in?



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