Considering it’s only been 24 hours since my last update, quite a lot has happened. I was going to aim for one update every couple of days, just to fill everyone in on how life is going here, but it turns out life on lockdown can sometimes be pretty busy.
So after I wrote so proudly about my washing line, I woke up the next morning to take the washing in (something I am absolutely not used to, as we live in a flat back home!) and I realised that a crow had done a gigantic shit all the way down one of Bertie’s black T-shirt’s. I was furious. I fully blame our neighbour, who is going so mad during this lockdown that he’s been training the crows to eat out his hand.
It’s not that I don’t encourage new hobbies, it’s just really annoying when someone else’s new hobby shits all over your clothes.
Eating here has also changed slightly - there is no more “ordering breakfast” - it is now a conversation based around:
“Today we have Chana Masala”
“Oh. Okay. Maybe you have some eggs? Bertie could have eggs today?”
“No. Chana masala”
“...Chana masala sounds great thanks!”
Chickpeas are most definitely not on my list of approved breakfast items, but I am fooling my brain my ensuring I have my juice/coffee first, and then classing that as breakfast, with the curry then becoming lunch. I know that doesn’t make sense, but how does the thought of a curry for breakfast every single day make you feel? It’s tricky. And I like curry. But curry for breakfast is somewhat questionable.
I’ve also had to come to terms with the fact everything has peas in.
Now, I love vegetables. Seriously. Sometimes Bertie and I play a game called “top 5”, where you have to list your top five of a certain item. (This is a great game to play in the car, by the way) - I always struggle to name my top 5 vegetables, because I love them all and also my top 5 cheeses. If I’m honest, the cheese list causes me quite a lot of distress - (“If I choose soft goats cheese then I can’t really have hard goats cheese too.... and obviously you need a cheddar to put on top of pasta but that then means I have to choose between feta and halloumi and I haven’t even got started on blue cheese, or what about manchego and OKAY I DON’T WANT TO PLAY ANY MORE”)
Anyway, the reason I mention “top 5” is because there has never, ever been a mention of peas. Peas are the only vegetable I don’t like. Why do they have a shell? Why do they go so wrinkly? Why do they taste like mash potato with a jumper on? Everything about them is wrong.
However, when the shit hits the fan, sometimes you’ve just got to eat the bloody peas. I’m calling it personal growth.
Anyway, last night we snuck out under the cover of darkness to go and see our friend Paul, who lives ten minutes walk away, directly up the beach. It was his birthday, and we wanted to drop off his present. Paul likes to go “full native” when he’s in India, and insists on wearing a sarong full time. With no pants. Every day.
He also insists it is called a “longhi”, even though it’s definitely just a mini skirt and today Bertie even saw his testicle.
Anyway, we snuck up the beach like ninjas, delivered Paul’s new skirt and devoured a bottle of gin, all whilst remaining two metres apart. It was a very responsible piss up. It was the tonic we all needed though to cheer us up, even if Paul’s bathroom doesn’t have a bin, so I’d have to walk out with my used tissue and throw it in the communal bin.
(“Why do you even need a tissue?!” Says bear.
“You’re a man and you’ll never understand” retorts I, deciding not to go into a detailed description of “flaps” and why I’m not using Paul’s bum towel to pat my Hoo-Ha dry)
Anyway, the long story short is we all drank a lot and I went to sleep with my arse hanging out the duvet and now I have four bites on my bum cheeks that I’m very displeased about.
Then, this morning, joy of all joys, a puppy arrived! However, although this caused much merriment at basecamp, we quickly realised it was the puppy that lived next door to Paul, who had followed us all the way home. The problem with this is that the dogs here all run in gangs, and last night we heard a huge fight break out between the dogs. We then found the puppy, looking incredibly tired, hiding in the restaurant this morning.
We recognised him from Paul’s base, and messaged the owners to confirm. We then had to carry him back down the beach to his home, with our very own stupid Lucky not understanding that we weren’t going for a walk. Here’s a picture of Bertie Doolittle, doing God’s work and dropping the puppy home.
Also, my final bit of news is that they have officially shut the sea. I have no idea how you “close” a body of water, but Bertie and I were duly beckoned out of the ocean, and told for the next 19 days that swimming was a no go. I can’t imagine this will be very well enforced, and there’s no way on earth they’ll stop me going for a dip, but what a bloody nightmare.
Stay safe everyone, and please sign the petition to get us home - http://chng.it/x95hcT5Tmz
Thank you xx
Thank you xx