Costa Rica – A Premature Funeral

Another resort, another bar. Anybody who knows us, knows we are sticklers for a good cocktail. This resort had a particularly large selection of cocktails and it seemed wrong to not try them all. At this point our group had taken over a large area of the bar, getting to know one another and telling anecdotes. Ath had told me that her father had done a tour of Egypt and Iran in 1992 and had dinner with Saddam Hussein, Dave told us that his friend had designed the Superdry logo and Martin had claimed that he was a former member of Blazing Squad. (I say claimed because I still can’t tell if he was pulling our leg, I have looked at photos of Blazing Squad since our return and can’t see a Danny Dyer look-alike), and so Ollie and I were left thinking about what our interesting story was.

Ollie had persuaded Adrian (the magician) to get his playing cards and show us some tricks. He enthusiastically ran to his room and got his cards, and perhaps even more enthusiastically ran back to the group, and found himself tripping. He caught his toe in-between the stepping stones (stepping stones which had about six inches between one another) and fell on his knees like a 6-year-old sliding on the dance floor at a disco. We still can’t work out how he managed to do it as his toes are not the size of a T-Rex. He ended up with scrages (that’s a cross between a graze and a scratch in Bristolian by the way) and a very sore big toe.

Nature called and I left my seat and headed to the bathroom. Badger’s luck strikes again as I heard a loud crunch from beneath my foot. Think of standing on a snail and times it by ten. I couldn’t see what I had done as the jungle was in darkness but we shone a torch and discovered I had crushed a beetle the length of my thumb. The poor little thing was wriggling after I had put all of my post wedding, filled with rice and pea, self on its little body. I felt awful. Dave was nominated to put the poor little guy out of his misery and whilst many people didn’t want to witness the little guy’s untimely death, I heard the whole ordeal. I wondered what his little beetle wife would think and what she would tell their little beetle children when Daddy didn’t come home.

I dwelt on it for a while, decided I should always carry a torch and then went to order another long island iced tea.

By | 2016-10-06T21:09:22+00:00 October 6th, 2016|1 Comment

About the Author:

How do I sum myself up in a few words? Bristolian cider drinker, almost obsessive planner and constantly fuelled with a strong diagnosis of 'wanderlust'.

One Comment

  1. Adrian 6th October 2016 at 9:52 pm - Reply

    ???????? and the toe never got better

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