You know when you should really be getting up but you just really can’t be bothered? That was me this morning. Feeling a little bad for waking Lilianna with my snooze alarm every 15 minutes from 5am, I eventually elected (after several recounts) to rise from my slumber somewhere around the wrong side of 7. Lilianna drove me down to the minibus park and before I knew it, I was whisked away back from whence I came to the crossroads town of Manzini. There, I caught another minibus to Mozambique, Nation 117, feeling like I’ve arrived at the party a little late.
But to be honest with you, even if I had left Durban on Wednesday, I would have only got to Mozambique yesterday, and the buses up north go VERY early in the morning, so I would have been stuck there until this morning anyway. I figure I’m only a day (not two) askew. The border was a breeze and Maputo, the capital no less (although you probably already know that, you little clever-clogs you) was arrived at, just in time to make arrangements for a comfortable coach ride up north tomorrow morning (VERY early) and to make a couple of new friends at the Base Backpackers (thoroughly recommended, by the way).
We went out for a few beers, but I (uncharacteristically) called time way before normal. Burning the candle at both ends and all that, thinking about it, I hadn’t had a lie-in since I was in jail. Which doesn’t really count. It’s not like Mandy brought me a cup of tea while we watched Grindhouse on the wall using my brother’s projector. So when the devil take the hindmost (whatever that means), I crashed out for an rather early (11pm) night. My coach was leaving at half four in the morning, so gimme a break.