At midnight Friday, after ten hours on a very boring, and very cold and somewhat blustery ferry ride, I arrived on the island of Omotepe, and got on the last van to town. It pulled up in front of the hotel I had chosen, a man immediately appeared out of the dark, and a few minutes later I was in a room with a private bath. $8 per night, but I deserved it. I was to find I thought I deserved a lot while on Omotepe.
The ferry left at 2pm, and air-con was a nice thing to have. After the sun set, however, the cold air kept coming, and the cabin got colder and colder. This is common in a lot of tropical countries. If you paid for air-conditioning, you will get air-conditioning, no matter how much you hate it.
I spent part of the evening standing on the rear deck, where it was moderately warmer. The ferry company had locked my pack in an on-deck locker, and I couldn't get to it to dig out a sweater. At least I had kept out a long-sleeved T-shirt. A woman in a spaghetti strap top and shorts looked as if she would soon die.
Because they were showing movies, there were no lights in the cabin and I couldn't read. I swear, if I see that movie with The Rock, the one where he goes to Brazil to rescue the rich man's son, one more time I'll scream. It's funny that I can never remember the title. I'm blocking it, I guess. That Andie MacDowell movie with Gerard Depardieu movie, Green Card. I've seen it about 20 times. But I do know its name, at least.
In Altagracia, I once again exercised my talent for just hanging out. There was a small museum, and there were some ancient stone statues in the yard of the church. The town had the standard old houses, in faded bright colors, worn wood, and a small book exchange.
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