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April 27, 2007
Day
Six
Once
again up at six. Didn’t hear DJ come in last
night. I must have slept well!
Got
right to work on some writing but ached for a
cup of coffee from the Black Stilt – my dealer
in Victoria.
I
decided I’d work for an hour or so in the room
and then take my laptop down to the pool side.
I’d get some Nescafe and just double up the
dose.
I
was more than a little surprised when the door
to the room swung open at 7:30 and in walked
DJ. They were just coming home. I asked if he
and Kabir got their money back. Apparently
not. He walked straight to his room, announcing
that he’d get up around 1.
It
seemed I would be getting a lot of work done
this morning.
I
followed my plan and went to the pool side. It
was pretty crowded for 7:30 in the morning.
Five or six Indian families played in the
water. I ordered a cup of coffee and thirty
minutes later came the pot of hot water and the
packets of Nescafe. I tipped the young man for
his prompt service and loved every drop of that
black goodness.
While working, an Indian man and his young
daughter approached me. He wanted to know what
my story was. Pundeep worked the railways it
seemed. By the Rolex on his wrist it was pretty
clear he wasn’t shovelling coal. He was curious
about what I was writing and popped his head
into the laptop to check it out. This place is
really starting to grow on me.
By
9:30 the pool cleared right out. From fifty
people to none within a matter of minutes. I’d
have to investigate what that was all about.
The
rest of the morning and most of the afternoon
was spent writing with the occasional break to
jump in the pool.
In
the afternoon we gathered at the pool side and
the previous days conversation about the movie
was resumed. An hour later we had the basic
premise down and I had enough to begin working.
I love this idea and I’m gonna knock it out of
the park.
Later in the evening we all drove back into town
and had a nice meal at a beach side café. For
some reason it was one of the times when no
matter what anyone said it turned out to be
funny. By the time we were driving back to the
hotel my face was sore from laughing. The boys
wanted to hit the casino again but I just didn’t
have their constitution and asked to be dropped
off.
Back
at the hotel I slipped the night guy another
bribe and got on the internet. I even managed
to get Skype going and was more than pleased to
hook up with a few friends. I was in mid
conversation with someone very important to me,
who was going through some stressful changes,
when my stomach started to complain. I realized
that I had to run – both figuratively and
literally. Up till now I’d been bragging about
my iron gut, impervious to anything I put in
it. I cut the conversation short, ran the forty
meters to the three flights of stairs and barely
made the throne.
My
feelings were this was a one time shot. I
didn’t feel ill at all. I’d probably just over
eaten down at the beach. It wasn’t food
poisoning. I had that a few times in my life
and it didn’t fit the mould. I went back to the
computer and resumed our chat but twenty minutes
later I was in full sprint again. For the first
time since sitting in the Vancouver airport I
busted out the Imodium. I went back to the
computer, closed down my session and went to
bed. I wasn’t feeling to well. This did not
bode well for the hour run I had planned for the
morning. |
