It is my turn to write a blog so don't be expecting any of that flowery, sensitive, carefully observed prose that flows from Liz's keyboard. This will more like The Sun, not The Guardian.
THE SOUTH BANK FERRY:
Imagine a landing craft from any D Day war film you have seen, take away the engine and replace with a wire that you pull yourself across with. OK so far? Replace troops with goats, chickens, people, bikes and one or two cars and you pretty much have the picture. Oh, and by the way, the ferry also keels over at an alarming angle but as its being replaced by a bridge nobody has any intention of fixing it. On the plus side while you wait to board said landing craft you can buy 6 small bananas for 25p and watch the prisoners from the local prison toiling in the paddy fields, which, unkindly makes me feel better because it seems to make my lot seem better. How mean.
LODGES
Everybody is building a lodge (small hotels with huts/rooms). For reasons I cannot begin to fathom they seem to be convinced that they are about to swamped by tourists. Now unless you count Liz and I as Ancient Monuments the sights of JJB can be taken in in less than a day. There are already 4 or 5 lodges struggling to make ends meet (a bit like an arthritic snake) but that doesn't seem to deter them from building as many again. Its doomed from the off I fear but I don't have the heart to tell them.
THE CIGGIE AND EGG SHOP
The shop in our compound doesn't sell ciggies you can smoke or eggs. We have to walk 50 yards to the next shop where as we approach the man is already reaching for the Marlborough Red and the eggs. I wonder what he thinks of people whom seem to survive on an omlette and a puff.
Happy Days – I think.
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