Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Nicaragua  ,
Thursday, December 8, 2011

There comes a time in everyones life where you quite reasonably and understandably say to yourself; 'I've had enough.'  When things couldn't get any worse, along comes that giant seagull to evacuate its bowels over your head from 30ft. 

And then steals all your stuff, pecks your eyes out and rapes you with its rabid beak. 

And then calls his mates to get in on the action while your carcass is still warm. 

And then calls you nasty names.

I'm sorry I got a little carried away.  You'll forgive the heavy dose of melodrama inflecting this post.  Things have taken a turn for the worst, but I'm still alive, I'm not starving and homeless, and I have my health.  Just.

So the story goes...

I was feeling a little homesick in the morning with the news that "hurricane Bawbag" had hit Scotland.  The Facebook posts and tweets I was reading had me in stitches.  I was crying with laughter.  I honestly don't think there is a funnier nation on earth.  I missed you today Caledonia.

It was another lazy day in the sun, relaxing, slightly stressing that my card had still not arrived, yet there was little I could do about it so hey ho.  I ate another amazing pizza, met some friends, life was ticking over nicely.  As I mentioned before I thought I would do the chivalrous thing and make sure two girls got home safely.  Separately of course; I walked one, then went back and walked the other.  Upon returning the last time I discovered the place was closing, my friends had obviously turned in to hit the hay.  Yet again I found myself walking home alone, but I was in high spirits from a lovely evening.

"Hey man..want some coke man...?"  The shady voice reached out from the blackness.  I recognised him as the dude I had given a cigarette to not moments before.  I replied in the negative, sighting I had no money left, not tonight amigo, and other such convincing throw away lines as I attempted to leave his overly aggressive presence.  This began to become more so, and soon he was showing me some small scars on his arms, telling me to "give me my money man" (which for some reason he presumed was his to be given), and outright threatening to kill me.  As ever I was still trying to talk my way out of the situation when he whipped the glasses off my face.

Now I've never really been in a proper fight in my life.  Sure there were those handbags at dawn playground scraps, usually where I ran crying to the teacher, but nothing like fight club.  I'm no knuckledragger.  I'm not a big guy (thanks twin), and I certainly don't go out looking for trouble.  I try to break fights up, I don't start them.  In 32 years, I had never thrown or landed a proper punch.  Until this one. 

With almost alarming speed, the process between acknowledging I needed to do this and it actually happening was frightening.  Before I knew it, my fist had slammed a beauty right under the left side of his jaw.  His head snapped back and he staggered away.  Yet I didn't put him down.  He reeled, and bolted onto the beach and into the darkness.  I gave chase, without any real thought as to how dangerous this was; because the little bastard had my glasses.

He's turned into night as I reach the water.  The sea and the moon can do little to illuminate the dark beach.  My footwear slips off in the waves, and as I compose myself, the moment is gone.  Added to this the minus four in both eyes doesn't help matters.  I can't see at the best of times, and my short sight fails to locate any human movement.  He's gone to ground; literally.  Playing to his dark skinned strengths, and knowing the moonlight would betray him, he's dipped to the sand.  I've no chance.  My adrenaline gets the better of me and I scream after him;


Emotions charge as I race back to the road.  Perhaps I'll catch him on the one main street trying to sneak away?  With shoes in hand, my bare feet slap the concrete as I tear up and down.  It's fruitless male bravado.  My knuckles bleeding, I stride purposefully into the local casino.  Quite why I did I do not know.  Maybe it was the one moment where I felt like I could take on the world.  Maybe I wanted people to see my fearlessness.  Maybe tonight I was the Alpha male.  Maybe I just wanted someone to tell me it would all be OK.

The tears come as I reach dejectedly for the hostel gates.  Sleep doesn't follow suit, as my system continues to rush through chemicals.  Adrenaline denies me the rest needed to make this all go away.  I feel totally alone as the space around me shrinks in.  With my glasses gone, the world changes.  It closes in to a few feet, everything else a frustrating blur.  A suffocating claustrophobia.  Yet with or without them, I've not been able to really see at all.
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