Oooooh barracuda

I woke again without alarm, or an alarm to be precise, as the morning heat here seems to coincide with my plans quite nicely. I tried for another yummy breakfast here at the hotel but since no one was around, opted for "para lleva" (take away) near the snorkelling depot. Got that sorted, met my guides and hopped on a tiny boat with little to no protection for my bag from the wet. Glad about my decision to leave the slr at the hotel.

The water is so clear here, it's Whitsunday worthy, and I was excited to see what lay beneath the odd dark spot. I also found it incredible that some butterflies were able to follow us out to sea - thinking they'd just accidentally web napping on the boat, I was amazed to see them later on above my head as I was swimming in the ocean. I wonder if its a about-to-die thing like I've heard the flying near the ground thing is. Regardless, they were purrrrdy with their yellow wings...

Me and my guide, didn't catch his name - probably Julio or Fernandez - showed me around his hood. Hood being short for coral reef; the second largest in the world apparently. I bet the first is Australia. It was only me and a Dutch guy scuba diving, so I had a private tour of the reef which was quite cool. Only thing not cool was the fact I shovelled down breakfast way too fast and couldn't really handle the rocky waters for more than an hour. I did manage to shake it off when i saw some colourful fish, a barracuda and some trumpet fish which i mistook for seahorses. Still nothing on the great barrier reef, hear ye people! I was taken back to shore with the butterflies while the others finished their scuba dive. I was told it was low Season here, which may explain the bad weather and lack of muchas turistas around. Was told not to come in December January as it was hectic town. Tried to speak Spanish with them but they knew good English so it was an uphill struggle.

Afterwards, I carefully reconsidered going back to the hotel to freshen up but knowing it was the opposite direction to the town I wanted to see I just pressed on. A few kms later and I was in tulum town centre. Definitely about as interesting as my mate R had explained it to me, it was simply a long stretch with shops and restaurants all speaking broken English and competing for business. Not that I mind a bit of broken language - hell it's what I speak- but I just wish they wouldn't try. If I ignore you, it's cos don't want your shitty brick n brack. Having said that, I did buy some things for back home...

Talked to who I assume was a lesbian couple from their short haircuts and close proximity to each other, who recommended some other places with food just as cheap as the place we made acquaintance ($2 for 2 empanadas). I'm pretty sure I didn't find them but I went somewhere with cheap tacos anyway, and ate like a queen for a few dollars. I must say, the chefs in oz have done their research cos lots of this food is just like the authentic slop we're promised back home. Still don't think I'll have Mexican for some time after this trip, though.

Rode back to town on the little old bike path - not old at all actually in case you misread that one. Great for shit bike riders like me. I rode to the place to organise my transfer to cancun and only had enough for a deposit, so came back a few hours later for dinner. In between, I went back to my hotel and swan, drank and sun baked as the sun had appeared again. And lord knows I can always be pinker. Also noticed a massage table in the corner so I treated myself to one of those. Nothing like the soft unintentional exfoliation of the sand against your skin to really get the most out of your massage. And in my swim time, almost stood on a stingray or something equally as delightful. Yay to wildlife.

The place for dinner was next To the place I booked my transit, how crazy that she recommended them... It had multi-levelled viewing situation where the top platform had the perfect view of the sunset, which was slightly obscured tonight due to clouds. But I still managed to enjoy my 2 for 1 mojitos without much care in the world. Fajitas followed just to taste them in their natural habitat and then I bought another handmade stone ring that I don't need so that I'm not running on empty in terms of no cash machine nearby, thankfully I'm heading to cancun at 9 in the morning so will get to the  hotel and registration before most others flying in.

I made it through dinner with some annoying Russians next to me of whose son I thought was just rudely staring at me the while time before i realised he was looking straight through me. But they were also annoying. Did I mention that?? I amused myself with playing "guess the latin version of the chart-topping single" game and the extra "fuerte" double cocktail situation in front of men(no holding back for My vacation!) while also noticing I have a rather fetching thong tan. A decent effort got 2 days in  sol. So I must retire for my early start tomorrow. Hasta mañana bitches.

Riders to the storm

I woke today at the perfect breakfast hour - not too early I'd be in bed by 5, not too late I missed the day. The Mexican girl I met last night at the bar made me a fantastic fruit salad with granola, freshly cut with local honey drizzled over it and accompanied by a freshly squeezed orange juice. It is one of those places here, where Fresh fruit is cheaper than juices so we get the real deal every time. Albeit 5 mins later but whose counting - it's Mexico!

It was another cloudy but hot and humid day, I wasn't sure what to do but my dreams of lying on a sunchair just seemed so... Lazy. So I found out there were bikes to hire, and went about finding them. I got distracted by a place called Ziggy beach, one of the many resort/beach bar/restaurant/spa setups along the main rd running parallel to the beach stretch. 

It was quite nice actually, little swings as chairs along the bar and a graduating design down to the beach where big mattresses laid out for the perfect tanning sesh. I experimented with my new slr camera but was soon interrupted by some droplets of rain, which soon turned to heavy then a downright ass-reaming pour. The had-thatched roofing just couldn't withstand it and I retreated to the swings. Made some conversation with the bar man, hellbent on improving my Spanish (Mai tai on one hand, Spanish dictionary in the other). Then the rain eased and I was back on the bike mission. 

Once sorted with a bike, rented from a tranquil little business that also offered yoga, which I'm tempted to do one morning as for $15usd it seems a great deal better value than the massages that start at $100 and go up. Honestly, that's even worse than Australia! The bike was a piece of shit, no surprises there and also not a huge problem, since it was only marginally more shit than my own bike at home (currently with a flat tyre in my garage).

I rode to the biggest ruins they have here, part of the national park but damned if I know the name of them. Wait... Map... No luck there, it just says "archaeological site". Good work, map. It was full of tourists, interestingly mostly Mexicans (I actually think its down season here and the weather isn't all the crash hot in July), and just another pile of rocks. Whoa - let me just take my ignorant westerner hat off their for a second. It was actually really beautiful and there was a little beach with clear blue water where a bunch of people (too many for my liking) were swimming. And there were iguanas. Everywhere. 

Once I was done with that, I cycled back the straight road towards parayso beach hotel (my hood) and checked out some of the nearby shops and figuring it was about lunchtime, stopped by by another nice looking place. The door guy talked rapido about something Which I gathered was, if you come in you have to drink and eat our food, and then set upon trying some authentic Mexican food. 

The setup was awesome, big lounges and comfy pillows, and more beach mattresses. I got the octopus tacos and surprisingly, they were very similar to the Mexican restaurants in Melbourne, so well done chefs on your thorough research there. After a quick swim in the warm, clear sea, I had a sunbake and promptly fell asleep. So here I am, lazing about the beach like nobody's business. What hypocrite I turned out to be. Also checked out some of the wellness places around about - tulum really is a beautiful and relaxing place with a lovey energy to it. The locals don't harass you or make lewd comments as you walk by, and there is not an over-hyped sense of tourism here. Yet. But it's a nice change to all the other beachside resort towns you seem to come across these days. 

Waking to some unknown hour of the afternoon, I rode back Saw some pretty feather earrings (cos, you know, 5 pairs of feathers just ain't enough), found out about my transfer to cancun and put my name down for a tour tomorrow to snorkel with the turtles. 

Let me just say now, before I pass out from tiredness again, that I jumped the gun with the hot guy moment yesterday. The people here are lovely, don't get me wrong, just not particularly attractive to me. They are short and have a kinda peruvian native look about them, which probably makes historical sense, but they definitely don't do it for me. Maybe I'll have better luck in Cuba!

Anyway, so after my beach nap, I cycled further past my hotel to check what was happened in that direction, answer was nothing much so I settled on La Zebra for dinner cos I like horses. More seafood came with prawns and potato mash, and I ventured into Margarita territory with the help of mango and lime... Tasty. Hey, if you can't enjoy tequila in Mexico, it's just a lost cause. 

A storm was brewing and I sat staring out the window at it rolling in from the horizon. It hit, and it hit hard. Thunder and lightning and things nasty. I just drowned myself in margarita. Had the faithful dictionary out and practised some more Spanish with the waiter, feeling proud as I always do that I'm making an effort. Then I remember, as I always do, how little an effort I make in the countries that difficult languages. Lets start slow though, shall we...

Eventually I thought it best to ride back, sans lights, the short distance to my hotel with my camera wrapped securely in a plastic bag. I didn't want to get too drunk and be the first pre-global casualty for this trip. How embarrassing. Back at the hotel, the bar was shut and no one was really about so I just retired, a good thing too as my eyes are starting to droop again and I have lots to do tomorrow! This relaxing thing has gone too far. 

Your dog called - he wants his tiredness back

Welcome back my fine feathered friends, to the ever so delightful musings of Miss Sophie deLightful and her worldly travels. Albeit, much has changed in the... No, it can't be... More than a year since my last blog. As I cut my time short the paradise of St Maarten in the Caribbean to be with the love of my life. My, how time does change.

So now I find myself single again, unleashed to the world an equally vivacious yet a little more educated woman who has a bit of a handle on what exactly she wants and, more importantly, she deserves. And so the new life begins... And what a way to celebrate than to hop on a plane to Central America?!! Even better than work is footing the bill - oh, I forgot to mention, I'm now a travel agent and not a bad one either. I made it to the big global ball held every year for those who reach their targets, and who could've planned it better - I just so happen to want a free tip to Mexico!

So here I am, writing to you from a sweaty cabana in tulum just south of cancun, and I've just enjoyed some poi practice with my nighttime lights and a couple of drinks ($3 a pop) with the hotel staff, who seem to be the only ones around. My cab driver tonight it was quiet and in my attempt to find out why, I think I understood that there were renovations so it was a bit harder to get to? That, or he said he wanted to have purple alien babies with my lamp post, my Spanish is pretty rusty.

I'll start with a quick overview of my journey to this point. We got a special line to check in st Melbourne airport. Then, whilst waiting in the line, the Virgin staff give us free pjs. Winner winner chicken dinner. I scored a window seat and a spare seat between another oval achiever, T, with a seat between. The plane was quick empty actually. There were a lot of upper management and support on the plane as their conference started the next day.

My first international experience with virgin was good, except for a couple of things:
Firstly, I was rationed with the bar. The only male hostie told me, on my 6th glass of red/ beer that I needed a half hour break. There are responsible service of alcohol did I know. And was I ok with that? Well no, nitwit, in fact if it wasn't such a blatantly obvious rhetorical question. I just sat dead pan and stated at him till he awkwardly moved on.

The connection on lax was painless enough, the bags I thought would be checked through put us in a stressful situation as we sat chewing our fingernails waiting for the bags. I of course was not chewing, primarily because I knew we had Plenty of time and I'm trying not to bite my nails anymore, especially with this fan dangled new glitter manicure I got for global. Fierce.

By this stage, I'd found some people going to tulum after cancun that had already organised a transfer so I just hopped on along to theirs. Main problem was that everything here runs at snails pace compared to Melbourne. Eventually we got moving, me practising my. Ok I am falling asleep Onto my face now. Will fish tomoz xx

The more lucid memory of yesterday...

Ok, to continue with yesterday's detail in a more lucid form... Where was I at? That's right, the airport. So I'd made friends with these guys from Sydney FC who were nice enough, not sure how keen they were to have me tag along in their private transfer to tulum but hey, it was happening. My other choices consisted of hiring a car and driving myself there (more economical but a little daunting solo) or paying through the nose for a shared shuttle.

The transfer company made it a little awkward but eventually let me on. Never asked me for cash though, which was strange. A different view of Mexico than what I'd imagined. I offered a couple of times to give cash to the others but in the end A waved me on and I left in another taxi to get from their 5 star resort just before el pueblo de tulum to my, uh, more authentic property on one of the closer beaches. I think we paid about the same price and there's is all inclusive. Oh well, mine does have a certain charm about it...

Got to the hotel about 8pm and ran for the shower. Things I notice instantly - there are mosquitoes that I hadn't planned for. There is no toilet paper. I have to speak my bad Spanish (not a bad thing at all). The people are friendly. And not bad looking. But I'm not in the mood to get into those shenanigans. I slip my long black summer dress on and sit by the low key bar sipping an India/o?? Beer. I also practise my poi on the beach, which makes me a few friends and gets some great shots on another Filipino girls camera. Hopefully she will send them to me.

Bad news is that no one seems to have heard of the horseriding the guys from Sydney were going on, worse yet they don't seem to like riding them on the beaches. Bummer. I think I may have to stick to visiting the ruins and lying on the beach working on my sweet ass white girl tan. Beuno. Life could be worse.

Now, where is this desayuno they speak of....

Farewell Fair St Maarten

My last day in St Maarten. It was sad times for all. I woke without a hangover, not what I'd expected after my last night on the island but a welcome change. I had some more washing to do but the other lady I live with was occupying the bathroom, doing all the cleaning and her own washing at just the time I needed it. I thought, rather than standing around wasting my time, I'd head to Seaside and have one last ride as well as farewell all the staff.

I brought the bowl for my bosses, and a thank you card, and at the farm they also gave me a gift - a book on St Maarten, which was lovely. Now I can take my boy through all the different places and what I did there. The girls gave me a couple of trinkets, which was also sweet. It looked like they liked the bowl, so that's good.

I had to wait a short while for my horse to ride, as they'd had an unexpected amount of guests show up and were at capacity for that hour. J had to take out 12 people because the new girl had just started and she could only go at the end of the ride. Poor people, I would have gone on one last trail if I'd known it would make things easier! 

Chico was being used by a guest, so I waited by the beach hut, talking with N and getting the photos she put aside for me. I was keeping it all together well, detaching myself from the reality that was me leaving another place and all my new friends, until A called. He told me such sweet things and was so emotional about my return that I couldn't help it, I lost it. 

It was difficult for me, there was this strange mix of emotions I'd never had upon leaving a place. Usually I'm sad at saying goodbye to friends but excited about moving on - this time I was going home, I wasn't moving on so to speak. But home WAS moving on, and it would be a whole new chapter with my boy. Hopefully the start of a lifelong chapter. And for that I was excited, apprehensive, worried a little that he'd been waiting all this time for someone that might disappoint. Then again, he was equally as scared. At least we're in this together.

The boss let me take the new girl for an introductory ride, showing her the trails and having a little run. Chico, I found out, was missing a shoe so I didn't do too much with him. And they'd cleared a whole area of land for another lookout point, as well as extended the little pond to be a longer, bigger dam. I was only off for two days and already so many changes! I already felt on the outside.

After the ride, I said my final goodbyes and one of the Dutch instructors said she could take me home then come back and take me to the airport, since E had nanny duties again. I did speak to E on the phone, though, and she was upset she couldn't take me, promising to drop in to my house before I left. She never came in the end, me finding out later there was another problem with the kid. This is why I don't want kids yet!

I did a quick last-minute clean of the kitchen, putting all the crap I'd accrued (not much, really) aside for the other flatmates in case they wanted to take it after I left. The bedroom didn't get the same treatment unfortunately, as the Dutch lady came early and I had just enuf time to throw everything into my bags and load up her car. 

Said a final goodbye to A and her kids as they headed out to the older one's birthday party, and kissed my sweaty little room farewell. L never came back as he promised so I left his Bob Marley bio at the apartment... I guess he'll get it in Caribbean time. 

It was a quick trip to the airport and then I shuffled away with my two big bags, way more than I needed really and way more than I would have packed had I known this sojourn would only last four months. But what a four months! It is a beautiful part of the world, the culture is definitely different to what I am used to, and I made some nice friends which I won't forget in a hurry. I guess it's just not my time there. But here's to the next chapter - to infinity and beyond!

The Carnivale that wasn't

I'd originally hoped to go on L's friend's speedboat on the day before I left SXM, but because it's not properly registered, it couldn't be taken out. They had tightened up on some rules in the lead-up to the Heineken Regatta so it was a definite no-no now. Bugger.

Instead, I did some of my washing, started packing (boo) and washed my hair in preparation for its styling tonight. Well, I mostly washed my hair - about 3/4 of the way through, I heard a car pull up and a knock on my door. Could've been a multitude of people for me, but what an inconvenient time! I quickly rinsed my hair out and stepped out, dripping, to reach the door before they left.

It was E, relieved I was home. She waited in the car for me to dress and we went to Seaside to get my paycheck to cash immediately before the bank closed. This time she remembered to take out my rent, bummer. The bank queue was stupidly long so after an age in that I finally had my moolah and we could go to E's house. She'd done a mega shop and by that stage we could've devoured everything, so I sat eating a hole in her pantry while she unpacked everything. Fatty fatty boomba!

We managed to sort ourselves out enuf to get to Karakter for a drink before E had to pick up V from school, and I could log on momentarily to Karakter's internet since everyone else's seemed to not work with my laptop that day. One mojito later and we were outta there. My last visit to the beach on SXM :(

I accompanied E in the car but had to be dropped home afterwards in order to get sorted for my meeting with the hairdresser. But when I got into town and phoned her, she had forgotten and I had to walk around some blocks to find her. Then we got a bus to her house in French Quarter, convenient since I was going out on the French side with La anyway. We picked up her daughter and got home, she said it would take about two hours to twist my hair then style it. Sounds good.

It was a bit painful when she pulled and twisted it about, it has been years since anyone's done it so I guess I've gotten away with a lot in my laziness! It looked amazing at the end, all rolled and piled somehow on top of my head, and secured with a needle n thread. This shit ain't comin' out anytime soon! And it will be so unusual in Australia, especially for $40, it just couldn't happen.

On the way out, I spoke to La and arranged to meet her in Marigot. I was told there was a bus "over there" so I waited. And waited. Bah! Almost half an hour later I was over it. Out went my thumb and a few minutes later a car of Spanish-speaking guys pulled over (they had a little kid too, so it wasn't as dodgy as it sounds). They took me to the end of the line for them, about 5 minutes drive from Marigot, and left me where I could get a bus outside their cock-fighting venue. 

I waited a while longer before the driver came back out and told me he'd take me all the way to Marigot. What a sweetheart! Of course in the car I mentioned I was leaving the next day to go back to my boyfriend and he says, "Oh, I wish you weren't going so soon." Well, I am, get over it. But thanks for the lift! See ya! Wait, there's my friend. Do you know where we're going for this soca concert? Not here? OK, let's go to the Carnaval Village. Nice driver, can you take us please? Great, thanks. Oh, you're so nice. Bye!

Except that it wasn't at the Carnaval Village. Well, it was, but it was the night before. Which is what we'd originally thought, but La thought she saw something in the paper saying it had moved to tonight. That's the thing about the French side carnaval, it is just SO unorganised and not at all publicised. You really need to dig deep to find out what's happened.

So that was a bummer, not being able to see a proper soca concert before I left. We went to get something to eat as we were hungry, and then decided to go to E's house since she offered us over. She had kids she couldn't get rid of, and A, the other mother, volunteered to pick us up since the buses would've been a trek at this time. I am pretty sure she was drunk when she arrived, but she offered to get us "something for the road" so we stopped at a random, dead bar.

This turned out to be a hilarious experience, because the bartender was totally crazy and made the funniest faces while he was mixing our mojitos. He basically gyrated to the French love song as he ground the mint. It was too funny. Eventually, the drink was made and we were on our way. 

Had a few drinks at the Maho mansion then A decided to go home, offering to drive us back. She was well drunk, as was E, but I was OK. Really should have offered to drive her car for her, but instead I just went in front and kept A focused. She did swerve a bit though... dropped me off and then La. I crossed my fingers they got there OK. They did. Phew!

Star-studded Saba & La Finale La Bamba

Finally - time for St Barths! I woke up excited, having planned this for a while, so I packed my things and hurried along to the mini mart nearby to get a quick breakfast before getting the bus to Marigot ferry port. When I looked out the mini mart door, a saw a little four-legged creature with ears pricked, waiting patiently for me. Polly... go home!! Please sweetie! 

I managed to shake her and keep going to the ferry, getting there just before a huge group of Frenchies booking in. The fare was on sale for the Carnaval period, just $55 including taxes, so something I could afford. Had a budget and all that, and actually ended up sticking to it! 

I used all my money renting and putting a deposit down for a scooter, to get myself around the island on my own timeline. It was the best decision I could've made, although it left me with absolutely no money in my wallet for simplicities such as water. Lucky I brought some things with me and could survive on chocolate wafers and juice. It's actually good she didn't push the 500 euro deposit (just gave her $93), otherwise I'd not have been able to rent anything.

It was apparently one hour to drive around the island so it was no surprise that the first random beach sign I saw, to Anse de Flamands, ended up being at the top end of the island. It was a gorgeous beach, actually, and had a full frontal view of St Maarten from afar. Funny, since I am so used to seeing it the other way around every day at work!

Had a sunbake there, topless of course - I didn't want to be the only one wearing clothes - and then moved on to the next place. No real plan in mind, I just enjoyed scooting around the streets and stopped when I thought something looked interesting. I went to the airport first to see another of the world's most dangerous landing spots. The airstrip materialised at the bottom of a hill and ran right to the beach (Baie de St Jean), where it just turned into sand. No fence or anything. Only light planes could land there but it really didn't leave much room for error - in landing or taking off. And of course there were the tourists, standing right in the middle of the airway, between the "DO NOT CROSS" markers, cameras poised. Sigh.

The next beach I stopped - Anse de Lorient - at had a sweet little alleyway entrance, with a small, all-white cementary edged along the side. The beach wasn't that nice, compared with the others, and had a strong tide warning as well as some seaweed and lots of anchored dinghy boats floating nearby. Not the more desirable environment. So I downed the cheesy puffs I'd stashed from SXM and moved on.

I noticed there were a number of Rastas on this island, like Saba, and they gave me quizzical glances as they spotted my long dreds flowing out of my helmet. But mostly, people didn't really notice you and were more absorbed in getting a tan or looking beautiful. It's hard work, really.

I took the road that wound around the edge of the island, right by the cliff edge, and it was stunning. Jumped off my bike to snap the stuf that panorama wet dreams are made of, and then headed inland to climb some more hills. I thought the sign "Petit Cul-de-Sac" sounded cute, so I ventured there, only to find a small, rough beach by a swamp. It spat a few drops of rain about now as well, hastening my decision-making. Gustavia-bound!

But before I got back to town, I had a couple more places to visit. I don't know why, but I was drawn to the Saline and it turned out to be a hidden gem. With a short hike uphill to then go down into this rather reasonable-size cove, it opened out to a stunning clear blue ocean, with just the right amount of wave. And the obligatory millionaire boat club moored all around. 

Again, there were boobs flying everywhere and the sun was shining bright. I didn't think to put on sunscreen in the places I probably should have, and as a result, I didn't have tan marks anywhere above my waist but had quite tender bosoms for a couple of days after. It was reaching the afternoon now and I had to get back to town to give the scooter back before the ferry left. So I bid farewell to the bronzed, super fit couples (that were probably famous in their own countries in their own way), and headed to Shell Beach, my last stop.

I had thought this was the famous beach full of shells they call "The Singing Beach" because the water made a tinkling sound as it rushed over the shells... There were shells but I didn't hear no tinkle. I sat for a bit anyway, reading a mildly inappropriate book for the beach, and then headed back to the rental place to get my deposit back and buy something to drink!

Talking to a nice American couple, they put the idea of icecream in my head so I had to have some. $4.50 later... how I savoured every drop of that one scoop. Then it was through immigration and onto the ferry, where the same host tried talking to me in French and I had to finally admit I couldn't understand him. Embarrassing. But the trip back was beautiful, timed perfectly with sunset so I saw the hills being lit up by the moving sun and the fine mist thrown from the crashing waves create an eery filter through the shadows. My camera was working overtime. 

Tonight was my farewell drinks with the guys from work, although I wasn't expecting that many to show up. I was running late, as was everyone else I discovered when I got to Sunset Bar and couldn't find anyone else. J called me and asked where I was, because they had come from work and were waiting by my house. So they came along - just J, R and Re - with D not even getting out of the truck to stay for a drink. That didn't really bother me, he and I weren't really mates. Goodness knows what shit he'll say about me after I leave. Don't care, to be honest.

We had a couple of drinks but then they found something to complain about, as usual. This time it was the food - to expensive there, apparently, so after much unneeded deliberation we went to La Bamba. La had come by this stage so we all got into a bus and stopped by Toppers for one last karaoke song - I did Amy Winehouse's cover of Valerie in honour of my boss' daughter of the same name - then it was back to the beach bar I've sunk many a beer at.

Well, La Bamba was PACKED. I'd never been on a Thursday night before, but they had a DJ playing the whitest music possible... a complete change from Tuesday's salsa night! No wonder white people can't dance, look at the music they're given! Ran into L who was a bit wasted, and had a boogie with the boys from work. Re was funny, kept telling me he loved me and that I shouldn't go... oh Re... what a sweetie. He's funny.

The girls ordered food which took an age to come, and then finally got delivered stone cold. So they were annoyed and left shortly after because they had work the next day. So it was just me and the boys! Then D, who used to work at Seaside, turned up and we had some drinks before she drove us home. L had asked for "one last dance" but considering his state, I thought it was best to let that one pass and just slipped out without saying goodbye. He'd already accidentally body-slammed me when I tried to surprise jump on him from behind. 

Also saw the friend of the tattoo artist, who said, "Why didn't you come in to get a tat??" Well, you see, I TRIED but your bullshitting mate didn't make any effort to contact me when I tried two days in a row. I hate that kind of American attitude, all talk, no business. But it's for the best, anyway, I couldn't really afford it. If he REALLY wanted to tattoo me, he could have called me.

It was about 3am when I got home, to get a phonecall from A who somehow knew I would have been out. We spoke for almost an HOUR, god knows how much that cost him, and then I passed out. Game over.