The wheels come off.
Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
333Trip End Ongoing
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Where I stayed
Right. Here we go. Where to begin? How to lambast and tear into a situation and sequence of events without offending anybody? How to keep it relevant to my travel project and volunteer work? Actually, sack all that; the pen is mightier than the sword and it will flow freely...
For some reason I find myself...wait...start again. The reason I've managed to find myself staying in two filthy hostels is because of a girl. Late last night the object of my affections persuaded me to ditch my Spanish lessons and volunteer work and travel with her and her friends to a beach town about two hours from Granada. San Juan Del Sur is a surfers paradise on the Pacific coast. Alarm bells should already have been ringing.
We're at The Naked Tiger; the most notorious party hostel in Central America. It's a lovely hillside property that has been ruined.
A few years ago this might have been a lot of fun. In spite of wearing my kilt, I'm skeptical now. I'm generally feeling uneasy as the events unfold. The two owners are coked out of their nuts. One actually looks like an extra from Boogie Nights, complete with porn star 'tache. Looking vacant, he festers behind the counter. I already know this isn't going to go to plan. It starts as it means to go on when some spaced female cretin tells me I'm annoying while I'm talking to somebody else. Some knuckledragger tells me to "shut the f**k up about my parents". A few hours and several beers later, the girl I came to this shit hole because of is having it off with a smelly Frenchman. Here is a wonderful asset to society who apparently has been languishing in this drug den for three months. What good have you contributed you degenerate...?!
I tried to leave. I left money on the counter, and walk half way down the drive in the pitch dark. Now not only is this a really, really stupid idea, but I realise they have my passport in the safe. I return looking something of an incompetent, spineless retard.
I eventually crash to sleep in the girls bed, where she obviously isn't. Tomorrow is going to be just as brutal as today, but at least it gives me the opportunity to leave this mess behind. One day I might learn never to follow a girl anywhere. One day I might learn I'm not going to find her at the end of a bar. One day I might learn how to carpet bomb god forsaken shit show hostels. One day I'll look back on this and laugh. Right now it's hurting a little to much.