28feb06

a lack of rafting interest from tourists meant i had to wait until the next day to pretend to risk my life, so we spent the day kicking around the campsite.  scott, a chilled out canadian kayaker taught us how to spider dog a sausage over the fire and we taught him what soft-boiled eggs and soldiers were all about.  he liked them but hated marmite on toast.  i snatched the half eaten slice from his ungrateful mits and gobbled it.  a future forest firefighter, he knew how to start and maintain a healthy a fire, and this he did with mild obsession, occasionally boiling water in a large blackened pan over the flames for the hell of it, (a disturbingly infectious habit). by the time we’d finished breakfast and cleared up it was time for lunch and the previous night’s soup d’inferno made a heavily diluted and near unrecognisable reappearance.  we caught up on the website, read books, went for a short walk and on the way back picked up some freshly baked rolls of which e-j polished off a good half dozen for tea.

 

before bed we had an intriguing chat with an american camper from montana who insisted that he used the same dr brommer’s soap solution to wash himself, his clothes, his crockery, his teeth and given it had “that great smelling peppermint taste” was contemplating brewing up a cup of soap ‘tea’.  fascinated more than disgusted i encouraged him to knock one up but he was tired and ready to go to sleep which he intended to do in his sleeping bag out on a nearby rocky plateau under stars, despite the blanket clouds and rain.  he was recovering from a heavy night with five swedish girls.

 

two ham and mustard rolls and we were off to bed.  santiago, the man in charge of rafting whistled up at us and told me still not enough people to make the foursome required for rafting, but if i wanted to go catarafting with him, i should be ready to go at 9am.

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