I woke again at 4pm, drank a litre of water then realised I didn’t know what time the shops shut, so decided I’d better go and get some provisions. Still half asleep, I opened the motel door, stepped out onto the balcony and gagged at the heat.
Reminder to
self: turn the aircon down/off half an
hour prior to going out to acclimatize!
I walked
very slowly down the stairs (I’d stuck my head in the lift and decided it was
an inferno) and out into the street. There
were tall palm trees and lush tropical vegetation all around. Buildings were modern and cars had big square
red and white numberplates..jpg)
And then it suddenly hit me that there was something missing. There was not a dog in sight! Usually in Motril there is at least one poor, scruffy looking specimen wandering about on its own without an owner and a walk down any street is like dodging landmines (although the result is only a nasty squelch so it doesn’t really compare)!
I walked at
a snail’s pace down the road to Woolies (Woolworths in Oz is a supermarket), any false move
meant extra sweating. I walked through
the automatic double doors and into a welcoming calm of coolness. Despite my tiredness, I looked around at the
strange products, half of them just like back in the UK (hot cross buns, ready roast chickens, Cadbury’s Dairy Milk and sliced ham), the other half weird and wonderful
(Kanga Bangas, Longans and other weird knobbly things that I need to find out
the names of)!
I bought water,
salad, fruit, an enormous kitchen knife (it was the cheapest knife I could
find!), a couple of plastic containers to eat out of and a pack of 4 forks,
then gulped at the bill! Prices sure are
expensive here!!
Then back
to the motel room for something to eat and back to sleep!
