Day 29 ...... Sitrep

Good sleep having liberated a camp bed from one of the empty tents at World Cup Camping.

The place has dropped off rapidly since the English fans (vast majority) headed home. It appears that only hardcore supporters are still about. (when I say hardcore, I actually mean a lot of wildly optimistic, middle aged men, who had booked the whole month at the campsite, with visions of an England team progressing in the competition. Unfortunately for them, they are now sat in a kind of 'lost child' shock, with 2 weeks left, limited funds and an England team thoroughly ensconced where they really wanted to be, i.e on a beach thousands of miles away !)

Having had a lazy morning, a few of us headed to the local beach which is stunning (see pics). Thoughts of revolution then popped up, as we met people who had been at the campsite initally but had gone under the wire and moved into a local hostel. It took 30 seconds for the escape committee to convince me of the benefits (i.e hot water, clean real bed etc) so I payed for three nights, starting the next day.


Whilst returning to the campsite we saw a big dog get taken out by a suicidal nazi on a moterbike, going at full speed. We were nicely surprised however, at the reaction of the locals who showed a lot of compassion for the body and were as pissed off about it as we were.

Back at camp I fleeced a few people at 'shoot' (card game), whilst becoming acquainted with half a bottle of vodka; this late night session was an open invitation to every Mossie this side of the Guatemalan Canal to turn up and feast on Millsy's fat legs. A great feast was had by all and big fat mossie's lay all around, burping and farting having gorged themselves on my blood.