holibobs 7: Ben Hur and some things are not quite right…

After dinner last night I walked out to the beach.  On the way I came across some be it racers; they had styled their beaten old hatchback, including the dangerous looking wheelnuts. They probably didn’t see it as homage to the epic chariot race, but I did.

Sunday morning, on my way ‘home’ now. Hotel couldn’t raise a taxi so the owner gave me lift to the bus station in town. Nice.

Just as we got there the bus pulled in and hordes got off to use the “banos”.  I got a ticket and put my bag in the hold.  A minute or two later the driver pulled away, but was stopped on the roadway by the stream of passengers returning from the bathroom – was he really going to leave them?

It’s only a short hop, thank goodness, as the guy a couple of rows behind me has a cockerel – seriously – and it’s doing its thing constantly.  I realise on the way off, he had four, each in their own pillowcase.

The queue is slightly strange as it has round stickers on the floor to encourge people to keep their distance, 2m, 6′. Very much like the UK.  Only these stickers are only a metre apart.

In the queue for immigration I hear a cat ‘meeow-ing’.  Probably there for the mice and rats.  As I shuffle around the building, the noise of the cat seems to still be there, always at the same volume.  When I finally get to the front of the queue, the noise changes – louder.  Then I see why, there is a guy with a cat in a bag (presumably it has no passport) in the queue in front of me.