Failing at life

Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
Trip End Ongoing

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Sunday, April 15, 2012

Paddy and I are knocking our heads off brick walls wondering how on earth we failed to meet girls last night.  Apparently he made a play for his dance partner and was shown a wagging finger for his trouble, while I managed to get facebook details but that's not really going to do me any good.  Once again we ruined it for ourselves by knocking back the rum and cokes.  "I didn't order that one" claims I while settling the bill, only to discover that it's in my hand.  Useless.  Inept.  Flaccid.  Like a wet penis in Alaska.

We wake when we do, and mustle the strength through the disappointment to see the town.  Cuenca is a picturesque place with plenty of colonial architecture to keep you interested.  It's a very pretty town steeped in history, and boasts many an excellent museum.  However as it's Sunday nothing is open, so we're left to take a few snaps, potter around a local market, then return to the hostel to faff around for a couple of hours before eating the worst Indian food imaginable.

The Taj Mahal certainly looks the part, nice decor, Indian owned, Bollywood on the TV, appropriate music playing for atmosphere.  This is where any association with the country ends, as out come two truly horrible curries, Korma and Jalfrazi, that look and taste exactly the same.  The fact that the staff are sitting down in the middle of their own restaurant eating pizza speaks volumes.    I've had better for 1 from a freezer in Farmfoods. 

Upon returning to base some ethnic music is in full flow, which in our current state we really can't be arsed with.  I've settled in to learn some Spanish in the dorm room only to be interrupted by a huffing and puffing German girl who has gone to bed early and is trying to sleep.  The bongos are making more noise than I am with my pronunciation practice, but she's still heaving deep, melodramatic sighs from her top bunk.  If you're going to bed that early in a dorm love, you need to be prepared that everyone else is likely to be awake and active.  Pipe down, buy some ear plugs, get a private room or don't stay in a party hostel.  Nonce.

Paddy retires to bed with the fear, and I'm not up too late sorting photo's and writing.  We plan to visit a beautiful national park tomorrow, but that all depends on our ability to get up in the morning.  I'm not holding out much hope, especially as the old hag is likely to visit, and I'm fully prepared to hear Paddy's screams echoing through the hostel corridors.

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