Took the bikes and headed off to find some of the local sand dunes. On the way we passed some stalls, where some of the proprietors had decided to jump into the road waving to their cafes in order to encourage us to stop for a drink. I swerved and kind of lost it a bit, ended up going into some sand. Sand ... not the surface of choice when traveling on a bike it has to be said, with the inevitable consequences. Apart from a scratch on the knee and one on Andreaīs elbow (now officially refered to as the wounds we got in īNam), we were ok ... pride hurt more than anything else. But all of a sudden we were surrounded by people helping us up, little girls giving Andrea consoling hugs and kisses, blowing on her elbow to make it better.
(Discovered a design fault with the bikes. They need a horn button near the back of the seat ... hopefully it would stop the back seat driver girl riding pillion from shouting īBEEP!ī in your ear everytime you come close to another bike ... or people standing in the middle of the road!)
Decided to be adventurous that night and have crab boiled in beer. I had anticipated beautifully presented fluffy crab meat served in itīs shell, served on a bed of salad. I got a crab on a plate, admittedly with a shoked yet boozey smile on his face. The waitress viewing my bemused frowns came over with a set of nut crackers and strained to get out the 2 milligrams of meat hidden in the claws. Ok ... so I cleared out the rest, and like celery, expended more energy getting the meat out than I actually gained from it. What about the big fat thing in the middle I expressed through a combination of furrowed brow and repeated references to the plate. She came and ripped off the top. īSo which bit am I meant to actually eatī I eyebrowed to her while looking down at the explosion in front of me. īScoop the whole blooming lot outī, she replied through a motion of a spoon to her mouth. Hmm! I looked down at the lung in a shell ... and itīs last meal. Take an old greying car air filter, marinade in fishy salt water, squeeze the contents of two pigeons over it, add raw egg yoke and serve in something that looks at you as you eat it. I wanted a meal not a biology lesson. Euch!
Had a nightmare in the night about poo filled crabs covered in maggots ... the first recorded case of Post Crustacian Stress Syndrome. Nemisis... thy name is crab!
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