Travel fatigue has attacked me this morning. Hum, that’s wrong. I don’t think it’s the travel itself. It’s the living-out-of-a-backpack, lack-of-privacy, slight griminess of the truly wonderful travel.
Today those little lurking travel horrors have finally sprung. They came in the form of a clinging, mildewed shower curtain, a hairy clogged drain, lukewarm water transforming into an icy trickle (oh yes, post-shampoo *shakes fist*) and then there is the bathroom waste bin. Up until this morning I thought I was dealing pretty well with the absence of a sewer system in southern Chile. Yup, I thought that, for a first time traveler, I was being pretty intrepid even. Pffft naïve! I’m not. At all. It looks like that brave waste paper receptacle has not been emptied in days and the used toilet paper is overflowing onto the floor. Too much information? Never! Finally, and I think that this is what has actually cracked my travel veneer, the little laundry bag containing all of my underwear has mysteriously vanished during the night … along with my (male) dorm mate! I’m not quite sure how I can react to that one…
It 8 a.m. now, Damien is still asleep, it’s absolutely lashing rain and I’m hiding in a café drinking gallons of tea. Tea will help! One more cup (and maybe some dulche de leche) and, hopefully, I’ll snap back into adventure mode!