After another roasting and restless night this morning's option of swimming with dolphins seemed marginally more appealing than being left to swelter in my mosquiito and cockroach filled coffin, however having seen and smelt the swamp water I was expected to dive into I quickly re evaluated my wisdom – and the supposed intelligence of the dolphins. I was also somewhat concerned by the guide's reassurance that 'The alligators are scared of the dolphins' because if I was a 3 metre killing machine, I would be scared of a poxy dolphin too.
After lunch we sailed back to Rurrenabaque feeling more tired than a Jennifer Aniston script and sweating like a suicide bomber in sheepskin trousers. I headed straight for the shower which was a wonder to behold; the tiles seemed as if they had been hand crafted by Italian artisans, the water was as fresh as an angels tears and the soap was... Sorry, this analogy would have continued further if the soap had not, at that moment, slipped out of my hands done a perfect arc and landed squarely in the toilet.
Later that day I went to collect my plane ticket for the flight back to La Paz – no way was I spending 20 hours on a stinking bus when the flight was only 45 minutes – 'Sorry sir there is a problem with the Monday flights...they are all delayed'
Not good, 'Until when?'
'Friday'
Not good at all.
1 comment:
Winning ways continue for the Chelsea Magoo, but JT caught up in controversy (again) for shagging Bridge's ex on the side. There's talk of him being stripped of the England captaincy - irrelevant to me. His winner against Burnley is all that counts.
Post a Comment