Sometimes words fail me. It doesn’t happen very often but blimey this boat is a rotten carcass of grot. All I can think of as I see the 100+ people onboard lying in rows onto of undulating cargo, the smell, the litter, the way the food is handed out (all the men elbow to the front), the LIVESTOCK downstairs (which, funnily enough, have more room to move about than us humans) is Amistad. Christ, I know how bad that sounds and I can’t believe that I was conned out of $225 for this nightmare. Actually I’m trying not to think about it, it’ll annoy me off too much. Suffice to say, this boat is the grottiest boat afloat. Thank god I’m not crossing the Atlantic.
I tried to time travel, writing up my blog amid ‘breaks’ when I’d go charge my laptop in the little room at the back of the bridge and read a book – it makes time go a lot quicker than just sitting there. I think I almost preferred the wooden fishing boat to Cape Verde. No, I lie, this trip didn’t carry anywhere near the same level of terror. Although I don’t think I have ever had to endure such squalor – being thrown in jail in Central Africa had an edge on this; at least the room wasn’t bobbing up and down.
The things we do for love, eh!
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