Going a Journey (1)

Up early to catch the bus: the early bus. Only a short three-day sojourn so want to make the most of each waking hour. Sorry to see that the weather has turned inclement. The rainy season appears to have arrived before it was due. Could not believe the number of people at the station. One would think there was nothing else to do in the world but go a journey. Procured seats at the front of the bus, thus ensuring a fine view of the oncoming highway and of imminent dangers. Only one scare: a country cyclist joined the road ahead of us as if we were not there, and only nifty work by our driver avoided a gruesome death and an unwanted delay.

Arrived at our luncheon destination on schedule. Could not believe the number of people. It seems every bus passing through the region stops at the same village for luncheon, and the restaurants (it was a village of restaurants) were overflowing with hungry journey-goers. A sub-standard repast; the less said the better. Rain persisting, heavily.

Slept fitfully on the bus in the afternoon. Arrived at our final destination a little behind schedule owing to the adverse weather and minor mechanical problems that restricted the speed of our vehicle when attempting anything resembling an incline which, given the terrain we were visiting, was often.

The hotel turns out to be adequate. One might wish the bed softer, and the corridors quieter, but some people say a hard bed is good for the back and rambunctiousness a sign of life. Supper was splendid, although one cannot help but be suspicious of “fresh shrimp” so far from the sea.

Strolled for an hour or so in the vicinity of the hotel before retiring for the night. Some street vendors were active, and more than a little tiresome and bothersome. There was a surprising number of single young ladies wandering around seeming aimlessly; presumably the streets here are safe enough: they would hardly put themselves at risk just to take the evening air were that not the case.

Very tired, and ready for an early night. Looking forward to tomorrow: the mountain (or big hill: take your choice) beckons.

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