It's Raining...

Tropical Rain, giant drops that splatter the cobbles and turn the sand into orange peel. And that hardly ever happens here - this is Sal, the island of salt. And now the power's blinked off, about thirty seconds after the rain started, revealing things we don't really want to know about the structure of the hotel electricity wiring. Unless the management team turn it off to prevent anyone having an accident, but that's as scary as the first thought!

Unusually I'm writing this in the morning, after another night that ended up at the Calema. We'd met with Thilo and Albert for food at the Creole Cafe, and I'd had tuna spaghetti again, but should have had yet another tuna or barracuda steak just because of the veg. On the way there I'd spotted Marco and Frederika eating in another place and had dropped off the SD card with their pictures on it, and they'd come round to say hi afterwards, leaving Frederika behind because Marco was tired and doesn't like A&T. Since F hadn't yet been to the Calema, it was a natch!

Once there, a "local" guy, claiming to be a fisherman from another island using his brother's boat, started hitting on me - he got a beer and a cigarette eventually, and wanted me to buy some fish from him for a barbecue. Nice idea, but then it turned into begging, and I had to point out that "respect" for me meant doing something for it not just holding out your hand. He eventually backed off, which was a relief. We got to meet Julian's hard-partying French mates, who have kept him up until 7 or 8 in the morning recently. Ouch. Adam went home, having insisted on more beer than I really needed. Another good band though - great bass player! I wanna be a bass player in a reggae band, as long as I don't have to smoke dope. Plan for 2009 - join or start a reggae band!

So after a brief discussion on German authors, Heinrich Boll, Grass, Hesse and Kafka (an honorary German??) with Thilo and Rika outside the bar, I wandered home. Hanging around near the causeway leading to the hotel was Emmanuel, the guy Adam's kind of taken up with - he's a bit good at that. After a walk and a chat, I ended up parting with 10 Eur for some more trinkets, which are kinda nice but not what I had in mind for the end of the evening. He sleeps on the beach over by the Angulo station, is a Sal native and clearly resents the apparent ownership of shops by Senegalese. Interesting!

And so to bed. Too many dreams, very scary ones that have fortunately faded, and too few hours, now Adam's jumped up ready for breakfast. Bah...