It is the beginning of the end. I have 2 more days here, one day of travel, and then I fly from this country. As if to sense the ending, all of my things are breaking.
The casualties: My Ipod. missing in action.
Hat, shoes, knife, also missing.
My computer. Severly wounded. Condition is critical, but there is some hope, if I can get it to the USA before too long.
Fins: One is gone, presumed dead, the other is soldiering on.
Contact lenses: One still remains(right eye). Many have deserted the cause.
Speargun: The tip is gone, stuck in a fish, but its will is strong. Hope remains.
Surfboard: Dinged, dented, beaten and bruised, but still it floats, and is in one piece.
backpack: Most Holy, dirty and covered in oil (cooking oil).
Machete: Rusted.
Me: Somewhat tan, except for my nose. Torched there. I have much stronger arms from paddling all the time, but my frisbee skills are gone to waste. I need to throw. Soggy. I spend most of my time in or under water. My feet are always sore, but I walk barefoot on the rocks all the time.
So I welcome the end, despite how nice this trip has been. Sometimes its good to go home and replenish.
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