It was 10am when we boarded S.V Leonides , joining a sea of swaying hammocks strung side by side like a scene from ‘Papillon’, our presence further clogging the heart of a boat that rusted by the second. Below us a manic scene unfolded. Angry bulls, their horns tied with rope, were run on board into a pen brimming with cows anxious to make space. Chickens remained calm in their boxes, resigned to their own fate, whilst a line of men moved back and forth like ants, loading everything from sacks of rice to whole trees on deck. The undeniable energy of the moment made the prospect of sleeping above all of this for twenty four hours seem tolerable but this was mad, even Noah would have gasped at the sight, and just to top it
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