Near the port at La Digue
We sit at the top of the Cat Coco and I get spray in my face but I don’t care, I need the breeze and the spray to cool me down to distract me from the lurch of the boat. Poor Z, though he doesn’t cry, he’s sick. Why can’t we all be sick like babies? The stuff just comes out, none of this wretched retching and gag reflex nonsense. Thankfully, no-one else as far as I know is sick otherwise it’d have been a disaster of Stand by Me proportions.