Day 5. A war wound and appreciation for a fresh(er) morning.

YES! Woke up without a hangover, and its times like this you need to treasure! It was a complete opposite to yesterdays start; I went bolting into Tris room, eager and excitable. Why? We were going to watch the football at an English pub, kickoff was 18:00 back home which meant local time was 10:00am. Spurs Vs Chelsea FA Cup Semi Final. I wore my spurs shirt with pride and a slight yobbish feeling. Reminded me of my football factory days. Which only happened in my head. Even though it had been 3 days since I left England it is always nice to see and hear a British person. There was some great rivalry and chants in there. And before I knew it I’d sunk four pints before midday. (Drowning my sorrows for anyone who knew the final score). Then a REALLY drunk American came up to us and asked if we wanted a shot competition. Not being one to back down to such an offer I looked at him and responded with. ‘I’d love to mate, but I am not buying you one back’. Honesty is the best policy. He thought this was a great idea and ordered three car-bombs. I wondered if we were in fact in an Irish pub and not a British one (poor joke but made me chuckle). A car-bomb= a shot of baileys and a shot of whiskey in a half pint of Guinness. The trick is to down it before it curdles. (At least if it does so in your stomach you don’t have to look at it). Boasting about drinking is never a good thing, so I won’t, and I’ll let you conclude the outcome for yourselves.

We then went back to the beach, it was much hotter today and the sand proved it. The sand as soft and yellow as any Caribbean beech you can imagine. Along the beach they have swing rings. Like in Gladiators where Hunter would swing from one end and meet the small security guard contestant in the middle. Well we naturally had a go, I surprised myself and only managed to make it half way before falling off. 

 
Funnily enough it seemed girls aged between 6-13 were the best at it. Swinging back and forth and throwing complicated turns in the middle. No one likes a show off. Where we’re their parents keeping their metaphorical feet on the ground?

Then there’s the rope climb, a twenty foot structure with a rope hanging down the middle. Now I was in my element, I raced up and back down again, and then again, but this time at the top I turned upside down and hung on with my legs. Then a third time and you’d think that by now I would have placed my thoughts on those young girls showing off. But I hadn’t and got 3^rd degree rope burns on my fingers. Photo attached. Notice the instant weeping.

Gym again. Great day and I certainly felt the sun. I cooked chicken fajitas and we watched Rambo 4.

Lesson learnt: showing off will usually come and bite you in the arse. If it feels good at the time you’ll probably pay for it in the near future.