We have said goodbye once again to our mate, Davie Channon. Due to the unbelievable feeling of sorrow in my snow white breast I had to retire to my boudoir for the day and did not make an appearance until the evening (oh, ok, I admit it, I was really, really hungover). Matt used that time much more productively by walking around the island and taking photos of lots of little birds sitting on wires.
Last night we did have a bit of a marathon drinking session - but one could argue that every holiday needs one! My excellent suggestion of one shot of tequila providing a 'second wind' late in the evening, was unfortunately taken up rather too enthusiastically, and nine shots (each) later we were a little the worse for wear. I lost my room key and was determinedly marching towards the beach to bed down for the night when Matthew stepped in and asked the guy on duty for the spare (thank God), and Davie decided to have one last sip of 'Gili moonshine' and woke up this morning on the beach laughing his head off.
So, we have done this town! Off in the morning for pastures new, adventures beckon tantalisingly. We are thinking of going back to Bali and exploring the north as it has been talked up a lot by locals and tourists alike. And from there it is but a short hop to Java, where there is an excellent, twitchy, national park.
Matthew is sitting next to me, right now writing to Mr. Channon to try to convince him to join us. It is true that at about 2am we had worn him down, and it was group hugs all around and cries of "The Three Amigos!" but now Davie is in Sengiggi on Lombok (spending a final night with Asta) and we worry that Davie's independent spirit will reassert itself and take him away from us on a flight of dragon fancy.
So stay tuned to find out if the triumverate tears apart, or if the socialist community ideal wins out...
Tash
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