War Stories and No Jeep
Trip Start Jun 14, 2003
8Trip End Jun 29, 2003
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Empty they were and hard to reach! We had to drive on sand pists, over potholes and dangerous sand whole all over, to reach the amazing cliffs from which we could climb down to the almost empty beaches. Our poor Fiat!!!
Along with some amazing beaches, the real attraction of the place was our guesthouse. It was owned by a Portuguese, a man who had been travelling around the world his whole life.
Accordingly, the house was decorated with art from around the world: paintings from Peru, wooden stools from Indonesia, pillowcases from Morocco and so on
Because he knew what travellers were want, there was a communal room with TV, INternet and cosy hammock and couches, communal kitchens, a courtyard to sit in and dry clothes and a balkony for the same purpose.
A real traveller's heaven!
The house was empty, but it was easy to imagine it booked out; marihuana smoke, India diarrhoea stories, batik clothes and hiking boots drying outside, Pad Thai and cheap wine ...
It sounds ridiculous, but I felt at home. I DID walk around bare feet and hung my hiking pants outside, we DID buy cheap red wine and cooked pasta. And then, well, one night, it was WAR STORY TIME: When we came home from dinner, our host had set up his slide projector, for some purpose. We watched pictures from Sri Lanka, Morocco, Vietnam, Burma, Indonesia, Brasil. We talked politics and exchanged war stories. He was thankful to have found a "real traveller" (that's what he called me); it gave him another excuse to tell more stories. We even got down to Mama Hanh's booze cruise! Happy Days.