My last morning! My dad went into the office, while I went to the bar/shack/drop-in centre round the corner from the hotel to say ‘bye’ to the locals. One bloke, a Rasta who offered me some of his sandwich, said “Ah Miss Gemma – How di body? I hear you leavin today?” I hadn’t recognized him, but it turned out he had introduced himself to me as a beach boy on my first walk down the beach. I instantly remembered him when he reminded me of his name; Ruby. Then he wished me “safe journeys and happy life”.
Abu and Foday had got me two more mix CDs, and we went on a mission to find a CD player, so that we could check that they worked. We ended up going back to the hotel to use the hi-fi there, and found that both the CDs worked and had loads of good tracks on them.
After saying goodbye, I sat and waited for my dad, with a tuna sandwich (could have done with more tomato or some salad, but was enjoyable nonetheless), and drank a Star. Not my last one, though, which I had at the airport!
We left the hotel, waved goodbye, and caught the hovercraft, followed by the dune-dodging bus, past palms and people, to the airport.
I struggled with leaving this country, which had made such a big impression on me. I felt like I'd been there for months rather than a couple of weeks. How would I deal with my ‘normal’ life now?...
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