Thursday 1 March 2012
Waking up to polka music from a nearby trailer and a light rain had us wondering what country we were in. Camp Armacao de Pera was full of returning folks from Britain, Netherlands, France and Germany, “Hardly ever Americans!” the receptionist remarked.
Dian and Nicole were helped by an English couple Dave and Ann with the best directions to the beach. There they found fishing boats, rock caves, and closed hotels. In town they stopped at the post office to buy postcard stamps. Later with dog poo on her shoe, Dian stayed outside while Nicole found an empty box to send our goat lamp from Marrakech home to Nicole’s grandparents.
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| Yum? |
Back at the camp Charles was writing a column and another article about the trip, and was gratified to see a screen capture of his photo in the Santa Monica Daily Press sent by our friend Mimi.
In the afternoon our tranquility and Charles’ Internet connection were disturbed by the rehearsal for the yearly talent show. Lip-syncing was the order of the day for almost every act, and back in the van, only a glass of Port could lift the cloud from over our heads.
We put in our order for the dinner and entertainment to be held in the camp restaurant that night and looked forward to a scrumptious seafood dinner. Around 7 Charles texted Dian and Nicole to come up and join him in the dining room. We saw Ann and Dave at a table by themselves and asked if we could join them.
them some of her photos. The soup and salad came, but not until TWO HOURS LATER did our main course arrive—This after they ran out of chicken piri piri. The very thin, dried out salmon and swordfish came with apologetic looks from our waitress Nidia (whose birthday it was). The headliner, an accordionist/singer prompted Dian and a few others to form a conga line which incidentally passed through the kitchen. There she witnessed a chef sweating bullets while five waiters tapped their fingers. As Charles put it, the best part about that night was getting to know Ann and Dave, and where else would we have gotten to see slightly drunk elderly Dutch dancing like ice skaters and singing loudly. It was a slice (“A very thin slice.” - Nicole).
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| Dave and Ann |
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| Not a very convincing smile. (Note the camp manager rushing around in the background.) |
We put in our order for the dinner and entertainment to be held in the camp restaurant that night and looked forward to a scrumptious seafood dinner. Around 7 Charles texted Dian and Nicole to come up and join him in the dining room. We saw Ann and Dave at a table by themselves and asked if we could join them.
them some of her photos. The soup and salad came, but not until TWO HOURS LATER did our main course arrive—This after they ran out of chicken piri piri. The very thin, dried out salmon and swordfish came with apologetic looks from our waitress Nidia (whose birthday it was). The headliner, an accordionist/singer prompted Dian and a few others to form a conga line which incidentally passed through the kitchen. There she witnessed a chef sweating bullets while five waiters tapped their fingers. As Charles put it, the best part about that night was getting to know Ann and Dave, and where else would we have gotten to see slightly drunk elderly Dutch dancing like ice skaters and singing loudly. It was a slice (“A very thin slice.” - Nicole).
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