Sunday, 3 March 2013


Sunday 3rd March
Arrived at lovely backpackers yesterday - stone huts, with thatched roofs, sandy paths (the sand so fine it is like walking on coffee-mate), and my tiny, single, bathroom-less room with a fan. Started off being perfect...I've never really needed air-conditioning before, preferring a fan, as air-con tends to give me a cold - a disaster if I am going to dive a lot. What I hadn't accounted for was how incredibly humid it is here - it feels like I'm in a Turkish bath in my room it's so tiny. After several tries, I eventually got the fan to the end of my bed, pointing directly at me, and had a little relief. Now, there are lots of things that are lovely about this place. The manager, Linn, who is Norwegian, is lovely, and nothing is too much trouble for the staff. The rooms are entered every evening by a statuesque lady, bearing a can of mosquito repellant, who sprays, and lowers your mosquito net for you, tucking it in firmly to keep the beasties out. The shared showers are cleaned after every single use, as are the bathrooms (which are only a very short sandy walk from my room ). The rooms are cleaned and swept every day, with fresh sheets, adorned with a hibiscus flower laid out.There are hammocks in the shade - which is practically my favourite thing about beach holidays, and it is lovely and peaceful during the day, with quiet music playing at the bar and internet access for two pounds a day. And it is ten pounds a night. Ten pounds. Pretty good.
The downsides are that it is not on the beach, being on the other side of the road, but that is not really too much of a problem, as it is only a 10 minute walk to the glorious, deserted, white powder-fine beach, which stretches for miles and miles. It stretches so far , in fact, that it took me half an hour to get to the dive centre, by which time I looked like a peeled tomato. The major factor, however, that has made me decide to leave here on Friday, is the Saturday night party they have here every week.
Not being one to shirk a good party, I had been warned that the music was loud, and went on until 0200hrs. Not a problem - I've had nights that have lasted much much longer than that, although I was rather enjoying the peace and quiet, reading my book, feet up on cushions...... Then the music started. Not too bad to start with, although in the little space it was very very very loud - we slipped (not always seamlessly) from rave, straight into pop, to rock...... By about 11 pm I had had enough ( I know !! Me !!) and retired to bed. Trying to ignore the bass throbbing through my whole room - I swear the bed was dancing - I popped my earplugs in and lay star-shaped on the bed to make the most of the fan. Then the Gangsta Rap started. For those of you who have no idea what this is, I envy you - I really do. For one who knows little about it myself, it appears to be a lot of very angry shouting American men, threatening to kill their girlfriends, and anyone who steals their drugs. It makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out with a blunt apple corer. It makes me angry - which I can only assume is the point of the music, and I did not come here to feel angry.It's played a lot here, I've heard it on local buses (where I was wincing at the amount of swearing, seeing as there were very respectable middle aged ladies who clearly understood english sharing the bus with me ), I've heard young, sweet-faced canadian girls singing every horrible word, and, good lord, I suddenly feel old. If I was a parent, I would be that one who says " Music wasn't like this in MY day" - and I can't believe I am actually saying it !  In my day, people smiled as they danced, with their hands in the air... It appears to be endemic now though - the days of listening to some chilled out music at the end of the night on a beach before bed, seem to have gone. Instead it's this horrible, violent nastiness at 0200 hrs. I think I may have made myself clear - I'll stop now......
So, after a long chat with a nice South African lady who owns a lodge directly on the beach, with a swimming pool, air con, and no gangsta rap, I'm moving there next Saturday, before my ears are subjected to any more ghastliness. Somehow, after telling me the rooms were $100 a night, which led into a discussion about how , as a poor volunteer nurse, I just couldn't afford that, she has given me the week for $300. I am going to enjoy my week here though, diving at 0700 tomorrow morning - here's holding out for dolphins (they saw some yesterday !)
Hakuna Matata !

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