The sea was perfectly still as we pushed off from the shore in our orange and yellows kayaks in the early morning. The waves were becoming rougher as we paddled towards the end of the island when suddenly, Mrs M let out a high-pitched whale-like noise. She was apparently trying to communicate with Skimpy Speedo man and nervous smile lady who were on top of the cliff. Highly embarrassed, I continued on hoping I would be swallowed by one of the extra large waves.
In the late afternoon, we climbed another of the ‘Jungle Trek’ walks, which runs to the south of the island. The steep steps brought back Peruvian hiking memories for Mrs M who adopted her less-than-flattering Inca Trail grimace.
Freshly showered and doused with chemicals on our legs, we headed back once again to the restaurant where Mrs M had accepted an invitation to dine with Skimpy Speedo man and nervous smile lady (men would not do that sort of thing). The words ‘hind leg’ and ‘donkey’ kept springing to mind.
Freshly showered and doused with chemicals on our legs, we headed back once again to the restaurant where Mrs M had accepted an invitation to dine with Skimpy Speedo man and nervous smile lady (men would not do that sort of thing). The words ‘hind leg’ and ‘donkey’ kept springing to mind.
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