To Panama

Ok, a little preface to this story. I headed down to the docks to meet up with the french guys i had met yesterday. i had my passport just like they said. i walked out to the boat, met some of the passangers that would be taking it, and then one of the frenchmen told me it wouldnt work out, they already had the immigration papers together--without my passport info. but they introduced me to another capitan--at least his girlfriend. she said they were leaving that day at 3pm i needed to tell her if i wanted to go within the hour and told me the services and the cost. That is where our story begins.

List of Passangers:*

Caitlin--american, smoker, travelling alone, speaks a bit of spanish
Phil--brit, smoker, going out with Kelly
Kelly--brit, non-smoker, going out with Phil
Tim--aussi, smoker travelling alone
Julian--german, smoker, travelling with Oliver, speaks a bit of spanish
Oliver--german, non-smoker, travelling with Julian
Hansel (Señor Italiano)--italian, smoker, only speaks italian, a little spanish
Guillermo (Frenchy)--french, non-smoker, speaks spanish, a bit of english
Chris--austrian, smoker, travelling alone

*study this list well, grasshoppa, for i will use names only--for the most part--from now on.

Day 1, July 1st--Cartagena
The price is $350, it includes 3 meals a day, water, snorkling equiptment. i was planning on paying $150 no food included (fine, there was a kitchen). big difference. i told the woman id be back in 40 minutes with my decision, went to the internet to check bank balances, emails and the such. then got the MCI calling card number for colombia, found a payphone, ready to call home for advice. no, why would the payphone work, even when i put money in it to call regular (sans calling card) it didnt work. i was asked to walk away after slamming the earpiece part into the rest of the phone a couple of times. the next 10 minutes consisted of a lot of pasing back and forth, talking to myself under my breath, and mental math. i decided i go for it. found the woman, told her i was in. she said be back before 2 for immigration and have the money and whatever you want to bring on the journey. i came back at noon and left my bags on the boat, bought some snacks (fruit, soda, cereal and beer) and hung out on the internet until everyone met up and took taxis (included in the price) to immigration. things went slowly but smoothly and soon we were all stamped out of colombia. back to the boat. 2 hours later we are still sitting waiting for some paper. an hour later we have been filled up with gas and have been turning in circles waiting for the paper. it finally comes, and were off. capitan says leave any drugs here, were in cocaine alley in cartagena and coast guard will be on to search the boat--with dogs. señor italiano, nicknamed by the capitan, was upset but chucked his weed into the sea--he only had a little bit. i told him to wait and see if the coast guard came with dogs, as ive never heard of that happening, and throw it last minute if they did. not only did they not have dogs, but somehow they just missed us completely, we were never searched.

as we get out of the harbour and bay, seas get rough. kelly is now in the back throwing up and phil is holding her hair, offering water. the rest of us are pretty focused on the horizon line--or anything not moving, but only phil and kelly vomit that night. the sails are down and the motor is on, autopilot engaged. the capitan says we have to make a list and each have a watch of one hour to make sure no other boats come too close. over dinner (just cold cut sandwiches tonight) we make the list. i have 12-2 because kelly cant work and hansel doesnt want to. hes puking too, but it may be the aguaiante--anise flavord colombian liquer--he was drinking. asleep at 2 with the help of some pills, not too much sea sickness, just a bit of a headache and a topsy-turvy stomach that night.

Day 2, July 2nd--open sea
We are up bright and early, nobody got to much sleep and the boat is still rocking, literally being tossed around by the open sea. although scarier at night, were still breaking through 2-3 meter swells. but after yesterday, most of us--not kelly--are used to it and not too affected. its 30 hours from cartagena to the san blas islands, we are scheduled to arrive at 6am or so the next morning, so not much happens today. for much of the first 2 days i was talking to guillermo--or frenchy, nicknamed by the other passangers--in spanish about this and that. i liked him, and he was eager to help the capitan, which was good, cause he needed a hand. but a little too eager. he was sort of seen as the capitans bitch, and a slight rift was formed between him and hansel, and the rest of the passanger, with me standing somewhere on the fence, so to speak. tonight dinner is cup of noodles and i have the 1-2 watch since we gave kelly her watch early, when everyone else was watching as well.

Day 3, July 3rd--San Blas Islands
When i get up at 7 or so the sea is calm and we are drifting through chains of islands large and small. as we coast past these gorgeous islands all we can do is laugh and smile at how beautiful they are and how not-seasick we (but espeically kelly) are. its just fun. some have only a palm tree or two, others have little huts and people, although most of the 375 san blas islands are unihabitated. only 75 have official villages. we drop anchor just off of one of the islands. the water is bright blue, the sand white; its what you picture when you think carribbean island. good snorkling with a cool reef and lots of fish, but the sand flies were angry when we got to the beach and after about 15 minutes phil´s back was covered in big, angry sand fly bites. locals came up trying to sell us bracelets and cushion covers. no luck there. i dont remember what was for lunch, probably sandwiches, but hansel made dinner which was basic, just pasta with a marinera sauce, but tastey. as dinner is being cooked, guillermo, julian and kelly are all fishing. in about 20 minutes they have brought up 6 fish between them. shrieks of joy and excitement can be heard, even from the german, a usually stern people. after dinner the scaling and gutting of the fishes begins, and at that point all that can be heard is hijo de puta, la puta madre, oh fuck!, sonofabith, and the occasional laugh. but all the fish are cleaned and put in plastic in the fridge. it gets later and people drop off to bed or stay up reading, although the air stays energized with the days sucesses.

Day 4, July 4th--San Blas Islands
We cruise up to another island in the morning, dropping anchor near a few other boats. caitlin and i are keeping an eye out for an american boat--i want fireworks, she wants a blender, and thus a blended drink. dugout canoes come up to the side of the boat and finally one paddles up with some lobster in the bottom. capitan traded some rice and a few dollars for them. we had a delicous late lunch of lobster with a veggie rice. seconds all around, except for caitlin who doesnt like seafood and only eats the rice. during/after lunch there is a bit of a argument and some intense moments when the germans want to buy weed and the frenchy starts barting with the sellers, eventually sending them away because of the price, with semi-harsh words exchanged on both sides. they come back later and phil takes care of the whole ordeal, although guillermo is ready to help, but accepts that phil can handle it.

Capitan, hansel and guillermo head in the dinghy to the shore to hang out with some locals the Cap knows. the rest of us bathe in the sun, go snorkling or just read. they come back a bit after dark, and although lunch was late, we are hungry, at least the 4 or 5 of us that are still awake are. its quite amazing how after resting in the sun all day one can find oneself yawning at 8pm. what i comes down to is the capitan is asleep on the counter of the kitchen--really stoned or kinda drunk--when i decide to make something to eat. i get a pot to put water on for more cup of noodles. he wakes up, asks what im doing, i tell him, he acts suprised, saying, "oh, you dont want lobster, perfect." apparently he had got more lobster earlier. whatever, it just meant we had it for lunch again the next day.

Day 5, July 5th--San Blas Islands
Today we move early to another island. the capitan is on it today. hes cooking lobster when a couple guys rock up with a massive fish in the canoe. i mean massive. my pictures dont do it justice, but the thing was big. the first few swings at it with a machete didnt break the skin--i mean a big m***er f***er. so he gets that instead. finished lobsters go in the fridge for dinner, he goes to the island to cook the fish. we feasted that day. massive bowl of coconut rice, massive portions of fish, massive salad. it was good. and after we walked around the island a little bit and we may have found the most beautiful beach that exists. im not sure, either way, it was the nicest beach any of us had ever seen, and we were the only ones there. amazing. again, pictures dont do it justice. we head back a few hours later to calls from an angry capitan. the anchor was up and he was tooling around waiting for us. i guess we had somewhere to go. we make it to the boat and he heades off at a good clip to panamanian immigration. if your there after 4pm, he has to pay twice as much, but we made it by 5 minutes, phew!

we cruise around some more, find another island, this one doesnt have beaches but a full on town instead, and some of the guys head in to get beer. i pack up because we have to be ready at 7am the following morning. they get back, we have dinner (you guessed it, lobster! this time in a marinera sauce over spaghetti). people drift in and out of reading, chilling, smoking. finally there are 4 of us on the roof at 11 30 or so. it was caitlin, tim, julian and i. were sitting around, shooting the bull, when all of a sudden it feels like an M80 just went off under the water, and then like there something hitting and rubbing up against the boat. then it stops. this all took a few seconds to happen, and towards the end of it caitlin and i (who are sitting across from each other) but turn and look at each other and say, at exactly the same time, thats an earthquake. half a second later all the animals (dogs and cats mostly, dont get excited no monkeys this time) all start making their respective noises, bark! meowww!...you get the picture. then lights come one and people start yelling. not a scared yelling, but an excited yelling. at this point tim and caitlin and julian are all saying excited things--its their first earthquake. i fake and say it mine too, not wanting to ruin the excited atmosphere by admitting that when it comes to earthquakes, im more than a little expierenced. at this point im waiting for the tidal wave, but it never comes, thank goddness. nobody on the boat woke up, and were all suprised to hear about it the next morning.

Day 6, July 6th--Panama
Up at 6:30, bags already packed, we are on the boat to the mainland at 7, in the jeeps to take us to panama city by 8. guillermo stays behind, electing to help the capitan clean up the boat. a generous gesture, but not one that helped get rid of the "capitans bitch" title he picked up the past few days. anyway, water under the bridge. the first half of the ride to panama city was bumpy and it was obvious as to why we had a 4X4. it was amazing cruising through the darien jungle and then all of a sudden come across a paved road and take that the rest of the way. i got dropped at the bus station for my bus to a surf-chill beach town which leaves in a few hours. internet is almost out, so i gotta fly. the boat from colombia sure was amazing though, and the food...ohhh...worth the extra money.

Sailboat

im off in a few hours for a 6 day sail to panama, so no posts. i know, its tough, but stiffen up that upper lip, shed no tears for me--or my blog--for i will be back, (picture terminator for this one:) I´ll be back--in 6 days.

Estoy Solito

So first of all, i forgot one little thing about playa blanca. one day there was a big local fisherman-beach party kind of thing, for the local people on their end of the beach, not the tourists on our end. i walked down to check it out and it was a pretty cool scene, music blasting, people dancing; overall it seemed to be an enjoyable expierence. a hour or so later im reading and people start running past where we were posted up, locals and a few gringos who quickly duck into the saftey of hugos place. apparently there was a bit of a fight down there with some guys that came from another town, and they must have run our direction because it kept up. a couple guys with big sticks were beating the crap out of some other guy. people were all gathered around sort of yelling and doing this and that--kind of a mob scene--until someone fires a shot. it turns out it was a cop and he shot up in the air. it had the desired effect and people seemed to disperse. at this point we were all huddled in and around hugos watching from about 30 meters off and a couple guys come towards us half-carrying their friend with blood all over his shirt. this is apparently how the fight started--or at least why one guy was beaten about the head with sticks. some guy from one place stabbed some guy from another place in the shoulder, the beating commenced, the crowd gathered, the shot fired, the bleeding continued, the people dispersed, the gringos went back to reading and playing cards and the tourist boats left. at least something to that extent.

hannah left for bogota yesterday morning. our last couple days were spent checking out the sights (always more sights) of cartagena. she took about a thousand pictures, and im not kidding, i think the total was something close to 935 for the trip. had a couple nights out at a cool bar that played a little too much salsa but did a couple michael jackson songs when we asked, and a kid jumped up on the bar and danced as similar to michael as almost anyone ive ever seen. hannah has video. we ate dinner in a fancy-ish resturant overlooking a plaza, and went out later and found some americans and an israeli. we went into the club with them (the one that played MJ) and danced around till almost 4, at which point we walked around town till past 5, went back to the hostel and hannah got her taxi to the bus station for her bus to bogota to catch her plane. i finally got to bed, slept the next day, moved into a room with 3 norweigan girls who are leaving tomorrow (yes! room to myself) and then 2 isrealis showed up...hoo-ray! which is fine, it just means i dont get the room to myself.

i walked down to the docks today to put up a notice that i want to go to panama when a guy appoached me and asked if i wanted to go to panama. i said yes he said come look at my boat, i want to leave in the next couple days. he ownes it with his 2 friends--the 3 of them french. sounds like they already have a passanger list of 7, i make 8, they make 11, should be a fun trip. i have to bring my passport by tomorrow and hopefully we´ll be off the next day. less than 3 weeks left, thats a trip in itself.

Broken Sunnnys

Well, as i mentioned in the final sentence of my last post, we have been on an island for a few days. its really not that exciting, but ill give you some details anyway.

we wanted to go to a place called Isla Rosario because we hadnt been there before and the only other beautiful beach was Playa Blanca, where we have already been. well the boat took us to the island in the chain of Islas Rosarios (there are 27) that has no accomodation and no beaches--just an aquarium. i dont know why you would want to pay to go into a aquarium on a gorgeous carribbean island, but apparently there is some motivator because it there was a long line of people waiting to get in. we hung out and dived off the dock till the boat left for...playa blanca!! were back!! what could be better?!

whatever, one white sand/crystal water beach is the same as another. so we get set up at "hugos place", the most established place to stay on the island. he had electicity and music at night powered from a generator. little did we know the man is wierdo. the first couple days were brilliant, a few colombian guys were there buying rum and whisky for what seemed like the whole beach. they left and we had a couple nights of relaxation and then a group of brits/aussies/kiwies showed up. another night of partying and home the next day.

i cant really explain in writing the way hugo behaved toward me, but he really didnt like, i guess. he had some stupid rules--like your bag had to be put up in the rafters all the time to keep the place organized. i wasnt allowed to leave my bag under my hammock. f that. so we didnt exactly hit it off. we also never ate dinner or lunch at hugos because his food was expensive and had smaller portions. he asked my why we didnt eat there and i told him it was cheaper and better for vegetarians (hannah, so essentially me as well) and he said something rude to me. it really escalated when he shut off the electicity without warning--whatever, his generator, his fuel, fine--but when we asked for a candle he said there werent any. the night before there were five all around. i told him this and he told me i could buy one from him and i said no, we didnt pay last night, were not paying tonight, that group (the brits) has candles why cant we. he told me i would spend money on snorkling and an exciting intertube ride but not candles and that was my problem; he walked away. i laughed and got my headlamp and we finished the game with that. i dont remember what sparked the confrontation the next day but it involved hugo telling me i was disorganized (my backpack under my hammock instead of out-of-reach in the rafters) and i was ruining everyone else´s time there. i then asked the woman working in the kitchen for napkins--we were eating and i wanted to clean up the table--he saw me walk out of kitchen with a handful, grabbed them from my hands yelled something i told him i asked and the woman gave them to me we were eating and it was messy. he told me i was the cause of all the problems and i wasnt a good person and people like me arnt welcome anymore at his house. i went back into the kitchen and apologized to the woman he yelled at for helping me, packed our stuff, paid, said thank you hugo, and bid that place adieu.

back in cartagena for the next 3 nights, the hopefully ill be on a boat to panama, keep your fingers crossed, and hannah will be heading back to bogota. we havent had any big nights out here yet so tonight and/or tomorrow should be good.

about the title, my sunglasses broke on the beach, one of the lenses popped out and got lost in the sand. i found it the last day but at that point the frame was lost. gosh darn it!

Corruption and Smuggling

I took a bus to the bus station and found a guy who was driving a shared taxi to colombia. i had enough money for the taxi and nothing else, cutting it pretty close. after about half an hour of waiting he got a few more people and we all piled into the car. sweet sweet car. it was an old chevy malibu classic painted metallic blue with relfective blue tint on the windows, blue seats and street-racing style gauges (also blue) by the blue dash. it was--as they say--pimpin´. So off we go, and i have to say, i did feel safer being in this boat of a car rather than the little tiny hatchback we came in. the woman sitting next to me had a box with her with holes in it. it turned out she had 2 parrots in the box, one adult and one baby. i dont think your supposed to smuggle parrots from venezuela to colombia, but the driver didnt really seem to care. this woman--what was she thinking?--also didnt have identification with her. so everytime we stopped at the 5 or 6 checkpoints on the way to the border and the police asked to see our IDs she would slip the driver anywhere from $5 to $10 (in local currancy, converted to ease reading) to give to the cop, who would shake his hand let us go. she probably spent more on the bribes than the ride itself cost. at one point we were all made to get out of the car and pay about $15 to leave the country. i didnt have $15 so we got back in the car and kept going. when i got out to have my passport stamped the guy told me i had to pay so i went back to the car told the driver. we got into an argument that involved me saying i didnt have money, they didnt take cards, there was no ATM. he didnt seem to care. finally the woman with the birds gave me the money and i told her i would pay her back when we got to colombia. i paid got stamped out, stamped in to colombia (after a bit of an interogation about where ive been, how long i was here, if ive been sick--it had to do with swine flu). ive never been more realieved. just being out of venezuela where you never know what your gonna have to pay to do this or that or what the police will make you do. its like when you go through customs at the airport, maybe you have some trouble with nail clippers or something, you think your gonna miss your flight, you finally make through only to have more trouble at the ticketing counter, and then somehow you just end up on the plane at the last minute...that immense feeling of relief, thats what i felt.

so we got to the border town, i bought my ticket to cartagena (they say 8 hours, dont believe them, it was closer to 10) got lunch and was on my back to what i considered "home" at that point. 10 or so hours later found myself at the hostel, went to meet up with hannah at another hostel and who do i see sitting with her...? tatiana, a friend from taganga who we hadnt seen in a week or so, what luck. the 3 of us have been hanging out for the last few days. yesterday we went to a "mud volcanoe." you clime up the 30 stairs or so to the top of a big mound of dirt and inside is a 10´ by 10´ (more or less) area filled with mud that they say goes 2300 meters down into the earth. the mud is the perfect density--so you can sit in it and you dont sink, it comes up to your chest more or less. you can lie on your back or stomach and you dont sink, its wild. the pictures are great, i dont know when they´ll go up, it might be a while, but theyre cool. and afterwards you rinse off in a lagoon, which was only a little bit disgusting. it smelled terrible and the water was green with alge, im waiting for one of the 5 of us that went to end up with an infection.

tomorrow we are headed out to an island to chill our for a while, so if theres no post for a few days and nobody recieves emails, im not dead, im just lying on a beach.

Hotel Vicoria

The interesting looking girl with the puppy started talking to me, asked me where i was from. i told her the US and immediatley realized i should probably stick with canada from now on. she was cool, told me her lifes story, has no place to live in maraciabo now, her friends sort of bailed on her, she doesnt pick the right guys, the dog was a gift from a friend so she wouldnt get lonley and it cost something like $150. wow. she was heading home to her parents and brother, sort of invited me along and i almost went but couldnt quite bring myself to do it. she asked me who i was visiting in maraciabo, i told her i didnt know anybody, she asked me why i would come here then. it wasnt promising. we chatted until her bus had to leave and i then walked across the road to some hotels. the first too said no rooms available. i asked the third how much he said how long i said a night. he didnt get it so i told him i needed it until the next morning, he said, "oh, 24 hours, that will be $60." (i translated the currancy for you.) i told him thats ok, tried the next one same thing. lovely. so i took an overpriced taxi to the cheapest hotel in the guide book--Hotel Victoria. it ended up being $20 a night for a dark room with no running water and one bed and a TV with a few cable station. porn was playing when i walked in, and i found out that there is a station that plays pornography 24 hours a day. how nice.

i slept in to the afternoon and then walked around a bit. during the day i was a bit worried, i dont think i would have made it to the front door if i had tried the night before. people yell at you, where you from, give me money. canada canada no no perdon. i got used to saying that. the streets were terrible, trash everywhere, dirty broken down buildings. homeless crackhead-looking people. then i came around a corner to find plaza bolivar. (simon bolivar liberated much of south america from spain the 1800s. the venezuelan currancy is the bolivar, bolivia is named for him, and almost every city in almost every country has a plaza bolivar.) chavez is obsessed with the man. the plaza in his name was gorgeous, plush green grass, big statues, fountains, it was beautiful. across the street people are collecting bottles to turn in for change, selling pencils and begging for anything. the streets are trashed, the buildings run down. makes me question government spending.

i was a bit concerned walking around only because i had my camera and card on me. after i dropped those off at the hotel and went back out i felt much more secure. the street food was fabulous. and cheap, best part of venezuela. i went back to the hotel and went up on the roof when it got dark. maraciabo has unexplained lighting storms almost every night. i tried to get pictures of it, but my timing was always off by a few seconds, a good show though. i went to bed after watching the first scene in kill bill in spanish. alarm set for 7am, excited as hell to get out of venezuela and back to colombia.

Forget Bolivia, the Death Road Runs Through Venezuela

We´re up early on saturday morning. I headed over to get us checked out and pay, and by 10 or so we were on our way out of Taganga. we got to the bus terminal in santa marta, hannah found a bus to cartagena, i found one to Maicao, the lawless colombian border town. we parted ways. i bumped into the 2 swiss girls we keep seeing everywhere, they were going to Maraciabo as well, but on a direct bus. the bus leaves a half our late, but we got to maicao before dark (very important according to the guide book). a man said to me ¨maraciabo¨ and i said yes. he put my pack in the back of a junky old car, i was a bit unnerved told him i wanted to eat and took my bag back. he walked me to the bakery (across the street) ate something with me, got into an argument with a guy behind me and walked back to the car. at that point he had someone else going to maraciabo, power in numbers, i wasnt going to be robbed and killed alone. 20 minutes later we had 2 other passengers and were under way.

the border is 13 km away from maicao. we get there, i get out, get my passport stamped (im running because im the only westerner in the car, the others dont need stamps and regular border formalities) and a nurse calls me over, asks about where ive been, have i been sick, something about the swine flu. i tell her im fine, ive been everyhwere in south ameica, no problems. back in the car we drive 10 minutes its time for venezuelan border formalities. i get out, talk to the guy, he says i need a form filled out, theres a woman sitting next to the window filling out forms (how convienent). she takes my passport, fills out the form that normally the traveller fills out, expects a tip. i give her some colombian pesos. i dont know if this is Chavez´s way of employing the people, but i can think of some better ones. form stamped, passport stamped, im in venezuela. the road immediatly changes, turns to shit. pot holes are the norm, not paved road but this doesnt stop people from driving fast and swerving not to break an axel. in the first 30 minutes we go through 3 or 4 police check points, marked by empty cans of food filled with gasoline and lit on fire. no problems, everyones in order. the road stays terrrible, its the same road that was in colombia, but on this side it looks like bombs have been dropped every 100 meters or so (Chavez, this is how you can employ your people, fix your roads). its night time now, all the other cars are worse than our old chevy hatchback. there´ll all american (only on the venezuelan side) cars. most look like they´re from the 80´s big old chevys and fords, picture the cop cars that chase the jake and elwwod blues in the end of the blues brothers. they are all falling apart, all bent up, have been in many accidents. my car (an 82 VW rabbit) would look like a lexus driving through these parts. most of the cars dont have working headlights or tailights, and the headlights that do work have the brightness of parking lights they dont do much. our car has good brakes they get testing whenever one of the pieces of american junk pulls out and cant speed up fast enough or slows down without brake lights. the woman sitting next to me cant help but to let out little screams and grab the seats everytime we are nearly in a crash. i cant really blame her. the man on her right is talking or smoking cigarettes most of the time, i dont know who hes talking to, the woman sometimes responds the driver sometimes responds, sometimes no one responds but that doesnt deter him. the woman in the front seat is going back and forth between texting, sleeping, and showing her ID at the necessary times. i dont know how she could sleep shes sitting in the death seat and will be the first and most likely to go if we go off the road. the closer we get to maraciabo the more cars that have working headlights. the road is still bad and people still swerve and veer and pass, but now we can see them coming, most of the time we can see them coming. occasionally 3 or 4 headlights will be seen coming towards us and the driver leans forward squinting trying to see out the windsheild. at the last second we usually swerve to the right to allow some motorcycle to get by us without being crushed. now we are quite close to maraciabo, the road gets better, the police checkpoints have lights and buildings and gates instead of burning gasoline. during on stretch of road we have steet lights. we start to get into the city limits no more checkpoints just more cars better roads more buildings, civilization. we pass a chevy dealership, a nissan dealership, another chevy one. theres not a shortage of chevys on the road, some are even new and look like they were bought recently at the dealership but i dont see one nissan. sometimes theres a fiat or hyundai no nissan. we pass an expensive looking shopping center with a drive through bank and a mcdonalds. we pass a TGI fridays next to it, something ive seen only in the rich neighboorhood of Buenos Aires before this. we pass a wendys. almost all the cars would be US-street legal now. we get to the bus station, ive never been happier to be out of a car. i wander the bus station its hot i get 2 empandadas and an apple juice. they dont have beer. i sit in the waiting room its past 10 pm. the book says the hotel at which im planning to say is in a part of town not safe at night. i only have $50 worth of venezuelan currancy and with the offical (atm) exchange rate i dont want to get more. i decide not to go tonight. after reading and eating in the 24 hour air conditioned bus station waiting room i take a natural ¨sleep aid¨, lie down on the seats and sleep an uncomfortable 5 hours. at 5 am a cop wakes me (and everyone else sleeping) up. i pick up my book, start to read. a girl with bright clothes, red hair and colorful tatoos sits next to me. she has a puppy with her.