If you travel long enough, you’re bound to have an occasional truly miserable day that just leaves you wishing you were home. We’ve had a few of them along the way, but last Thursday ranks near the top for Melissa.
In order:
- While sleeping peacefully in our cottage at the hostel where we’re working, I’m woken up early by Chris wanting me to kill a spider in the kitchen sink.
- Said spider turns out to be absolutely huge (the second-biggest I’ve ever seen)—joy! Too big to squish, I carry him across the yard in a cup.
- It’s a (rare) sunny and lovely day, so what do I do? I make 23 beds. I didn’t even like making my bed at home.
- Then I “nap” for 3 hours, thoroughly wasting the rest of the daylight.
- I then fall on my butt all the way down the (hard, wooden) stairs from the loft where our bed is. Ow!!! What lovely bruises I have.
- I ask Chris what she wants for dinner and she says she won’t be hungry for a while because she ate the entire little snack bar/treat that we bought ourselves in town. Greedy girl.
- My butt hurts while sitting at the reception desk all evening. (At least we aren’t working at the French horse farm yet. I don’t think I could take a saddle.)
- We’re welcomed back to our cottage by a mouse. A speedy, scary little bugger who manages to have us both standing on chairs trying to get the other to do something about him. (Oh, yeah, we’re tough vagabonds, we are. I can’t wait to see us in the jungles.)
- I can’t sleep because my butt hurts every time I move. And the mouse is still out there somewhere . . .
