When your friends complain that because of your tropical dysentery, you have nothing interesting to say.
I was at the internet cafe? checking my website to read that I need to "get out and do something". I had to take Imodium to get to the caf?e to read that people are unhappy that I'm ill. While I've been here I have been beaten repeatedly, bruised myself more than ever before, probably broken a bone in my foot, been attacked by insects and suffered a bout of the shits that will not ease. . . . but that, really hurt!!
I then proceeded to the bagel place to get myself some sesame seed, onion and garlic bagels for lunch. Yes, this is the same bagel place that poisoned me in the first place, their burritos bad, their bagels good!! While these were being wrapped for me the heavens opened. Yet another tremendous downpour had started. Hoping it would stop before my bagels were ready I sat in hope.
No such luck. I looked outside at the rain, I looked inside at the bagel counter, the rain, the bagel counter, the rain. . . I sat down to a bacon + sausage omelette, with coffee, orange juice and a bagel. Two quid. Bargain.
After breakfast it was still raining so I ever so slowly dragged out drinking my coffee while waiting for the storm to subside.
After reading the entirety of a magazine, the storm finally gave way and I left. Walking back to my bike I saw that where I had parked it in a convenient spot by the side of the road, it was now parked in a massive puddle stretching right across the street. While still approaching my bike a car went down the street and sent a wave of water right over my bike. Dirty, muddy water.
My bike was such a mess. For the past 30 minutes every car and truck that went passed had sprayed crap all over it. Poor thing.
I realised that I had to get on my bike, get it started and get the hell out of there before a car went passed or it was going to be one of the most unfortunate mornings on record.
I waited for a gap, quickly put my sodden and dirty helmet on. Jumped on my bike, put the keys in, hit the ignition, the bike started. . . no, its cut out, hit the ignition. . . crap, come on, ignition . . . For The Love Of God. . . ignition then gas. . . come on baby. . a car. .. CRAP. . . Frickin; Start Damnit!!!. . . I've got it. . . GO GO GO.
Just in time to only get a wave of water over my leg. Ha, you may be thinking, an easy escape, but not really. In my haste to get away I didn't really think back to all those times I arrived home from mountain biking to find a well defined channel of dirt right down the centre of my back. So as I pulled away with all the haste I could muster to stop getting sprayed with water. . . . oh yeah. . . I sprayed myself with water all down my back.
Clever wardy, reeeeealy clever.