Thursday, April 26, 2007

Baltic Avenue with Two Hotels (Atuona Village, Hiva Oa, Marquesas)

09 48.126 S
139 01.860 W

Today I humped 35 gallons of water to the boat by dingy in the (burny burny) tropical sun. I had a shower under a fresh water hose on the jetty while three local dudes watched. I managed to somehow snarl the dingy anchor on some diabolical rock formation and spent an hour trying to dislodge it. Had to swim down ten feet to recover the dingy anchor that some looser snarled (I am tired of dealing with rank amateurs). The harbor, in addition to being rumored as having problems with sharks (which I think is BS) is not really what I would call "pristine". I think I will name my ear infection "Atuona". I also made a decision.

After 37 days of living on the boat, I decided to spread my wings and sleep in a real bed. To sit on a porcelain throne that cleans itself with the mere flick of a lever.

I walked 20 minutes or so up to a small hotel and everything seemed a bit odd. I think it is a great place, but anything would seem odd that isn't the boat me thinks. For the cash it is a little bit sparse (the prices in the Marquesas have to be witnessed to be understood - perhaps the most expensive cost of goods that I have ever seen, anywhere). My "real" bed turned out to be two cots pushed together, there is only a half height wall between the washroom and the bedroom, but it is clean, the shower is fresh. It's all mine. I am listening to a salamander munch on a crunchy bug in time with the pounding surf below. The TV is on, only because it's there. Luxury.

A strange rip-off of Wheel of Fortune is on. Vanna is 25 years younger, with a boob job and seems even less capable of inspiring young girls into believing that they can do anything they want with their lives. A 25 year old punk gives the wheel a spin, and lands on "Cave"
and gets to go shopping (in the "Cave" presumably) with 2000 Euros of virtual money. He hoists a LCD TV over his head and everyone boos. Apparently he didn't reach his ultimate potential somehow (Isn't that always the way?). A white dog with a black spot on one eye comes trotting on stage like he owns the place. Everyone breaks into dance and claps with a vigor that is surprising. Good fun. I am confused.

The final round and things really start to heat up. T R S L N begat little. Ill advised consonants P M C begat nothing. No joy on the vowels. Oh the tension! A gong of sorts rings after a blank stare from the contestant. "Un Budoir" is flipped by one confused blonde. With a game show hosts dramatic flare it is revealed that the prize was 100,000 Euros. I guess bad luck is the same in any language. I wonder if this show is licensed? I wonder if some gaming commission ensures that the physics on the real wheel of fortune are true and fair?

I awake with a start and it is dark. The TV is still on and it becomes clear that this crap was actually televised. Thank god that my dream was not. It was the kind of dream that you don't write in a blog for fear of people thinking that you are weird, or of being arrested.

Time to go see what a restaurant looks like.

Hope springs eternal.

1 comment: