Nom de Plumage

November 17, 2011

Nothing Is Perfect

Filed under: Travel Journal — nomdeplumage @ 8:37 pm

I snored like a fiend the whole night. With a heady mix of exhaustion from the long drive, fresh air and a very cold night, I snuggled down under several layers of thick woollen blankets and a protective mosquito net, I did not move once the whole night. Well, almost. Before sleep overtook me, I had to lighten my bladder and chose not to walk in the dark the twenty metres through bush and God-knows-what, to the throne room. So, I opted for the squat behind the cabin. Wrong move! The joys of being a female! One major thing that I did not take into account when squatting and that is the firmness of the ground. Result, splash back. Not happy! Shall not be doing that again.
Dura woke early and went to visit his friends on the other side of the lake. Azza (Dura’s friend), owns a cabin that he is renovating with his friend Nenad. The cabin is a more modern dwelling. With only the outer walls up and some inner furnishings, there are no windows or doors to close. That would normally not be an issue, but when your cabin is nestled smack bang in the middle of a swamp, there is only one outcome, mosquitoes and plenty of them. Poor guys were almost eaten alive during the night.
With Dura gone, Kathy and I slept late and woke to a cold, windy wet day. Kathy prepared bacon and eggs for breakfast and after we had to light the pot belly fire to keep warm. With no men in sight, we decided to wash ourselves by a very primitive method and that is boil water, pour it into a large basin and then stand over the basin and wash. Primitive, slow and with a lot of over-spilling of water, we achieved cleanliness and felt the better for it.
The rest of the day was spent mainly on my own, as Kathy chose to catch up on some sleep. I mainly read my book and just enjoyed the wonderful experience of relaxing. For dinner, Dura caught some fish called wolli. Freshly gutted, prepared by coating the fish in a secret crumb mix and fried, the fish was beautiful. Dura will not tell me what he puts into his crumb mix, no matter how much I tried to persuade him. He gloated the whole way through dinner on just how great of a fisherman and cook he is. You just gotta hate the smugness of a man sometimes!

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