We would have woken late to a boat echoing with the emptiness of guests not long departed, except that the disco-nightclub thing must have had a Friday night special on and once again it was early, somewhere between two and three, when it decided to share the goodness of it’s synth-tech beat with all around. Therefore the only echoes we heard were bass and drums and (insert stimulant of choice)-fuelled conversations on the street.
Respite when it arrived, did so around six. Sadly for us it was in the form of the market traders setting up in the pre-dawn chill apparently blissfully unaware of the presence of the bleary-eyed residents of the port a few short metres away. Happily for us though, those very same traders came laden with all manner of produce and other things and we were shortly thereafter able to while away a very pleasant hour or so as they found ever more delicious ways of parting us from our money.
With our larder replete, our refrigerator chocked to the gills, and ourselves well satiated we thought a well organised afternoon nap may well be in order lest grumpiness overtake us by nightfall.
That thought was terribly mis-timed as at exactly the intended moment of repose, Richard and Gloria arrived on their boat. Since neither of us had managed to bridge the twenty kilometre gap between their house and ours while at “home”, we had rather a lot of catching up to do.
Sleep is probably over-rated anyway.