From Africa To Russia

I wake up at 8, less than refreshed. Get up, take a walk around on Michaelangelo, find out that the road actually makes a full circle back, which saves me some backtracking. Back down and into the city, I walk around a bit more, then find a nice dark bar to watch some more World Cup (this time England) with a couple of Scotsmen and a pretty waitress (originally from Romania) who grabs my arm a few times. The bathroom was designed for dwarves, the door is literally about five feet high and I almost knock myself out on it. After the game, walk back to the campsite, sit down (to watch more futbol) and chat with a frenetic girl from Buffalo named Jamie, who is all nervous energy. Her hair is frizzy, and the mania just flows from it like electricity. We drink a bottle of wine and make nice. I also get in a conversation with a stoic German fellow who is interesting but has a rather plodding verbal style which begins to tire me out. I drink wine and beer, watch a Brazilian guy desperately try to score with two Mexican chicks (unsuccessfully). At night it rains, finally. It comes in through the window, I roll over in the middle of the night into a puddle of water on my pillow.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 18th, 2007 at 10:26 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.