First Day in the House

Woke, batteries down to 80%. Hmm. Sunny day, let the sun do its thing.

I sharpened my machete and thrashed swaths of jungle, vines, ferns, saplings, low hanging branches. I never advanced until I could see clear ground lest I encounter the scurge of the tropics, the fer-de-lance, the most feared reptile in the western hemisphere. Bushmasters are much larger, but are more retiring. The fer-de-lance packs attitude and a very nasty bite. I nicked myself a couple of times with the machete, bleeding profusely on the handle and tended to it in my usual manner, a look of disdain mixed with disgust and a pinch of nonchalance "It's only a flesh wound." One one particularly vicious slash the blood soaked handle slipped and the machete flew 20 feet behind me and wedged itself beneath a fallen log. Using a stick, I pried it loose. I sure as hell wasn't putting my hand somewhere that I couldn't see, even a single bullet ant will put one out of commission, in agony for 24 hours. (Do you want to visit yet?)

Ok, I'm done, I can't even hold a damn machete. I walked down to the dock, stripped and started descending the dock ladder. The steps were covered in slime and barnacles. Great, slip and slash. So I dove in and tried to coax Hayu to join me without luck. Back up on the dock I provided all the persuasion he needed by throwing him into the water. He swam back to the ladder and I showed him how to climb out. That having been accomplished, I swam most of the way to the Garden of Eden, an upscale resort on a tiny island near my house. The salt water strung my cuts, but cleaned off the sweat and blood. Returning to the dock I grabbed the machete and walking to the house found Hayu frolicking in the muck at the base of some mangroves. A vital part of the environment, it is illegal to cut down mangroves. Permits may be obtained to cut the minimal amount to create a dock, but wholesale clearing is expressly forbidden and the prohibition is actively enforced. Never the less, they seem to have a habit of fading subtly out of existence by some mysterious process where they obstruct the view.

Back up the stairs, I got a towel, laid it on my deck couch and proceeded to sharpen my machete. A timid Indian came near, wearing long pants, a long sleeve shirt and a jacket looking cold thought it was in the low seventies. I was wearing nothing but a machete. I advised him to go and he did so.

No longer able to walk 100 feet to the local grocery store I packed my notebook into my backpack, grabbed my camera and deciding there was no point in locking the flimsy doors and shutters and headed out for a boat ride back to town A woman in town advised me that I could go to a specific supermarket and get the discount provided to the hotel. I had no moral compunction; I wouldn't have shopped at the store otherwise, so they got some additional business, the volume of the hotel increased making them a more valued customer. Strange things happened at the check out. A written receipt was provided with each of the items and their prices and the total tallied twice. Usually the chinos just bang a bunch of numbers on a calculator once and come up with the wrong answer, invariably high. Hey, I can multiply and add in my head. 3 * 1.40 = 4.20 1.69 * 4 = (1.70 * 4) - 4 = 6.76 plus the 4.20 is 10.96. How the hell did you come up with 12.65?

Provisioning done, I returned home to enjoy the tranquility of Isla Solarte.

I usually read a few chapters before I go to sleep. Where the hell is my netbook? Wasn't I reading it last night? Search proved fruitless. Maybe I left it back at the apartment. Wait, here's the charger, here's' the case. Did somebody come in and snatch it while I was gone?