October 15, 2005

The wind was overwhelming and the rain clouds followed us all the way to the top of the mountain. So once we reached the summit and gloried in our splendour, we jumped down the hills again, tumbling in the wet grass, towards the bottom of that goddamn ravine where a boat stood in a tiny pond.

We reached to boat and didn’t stop or think but immediately untied it and propelled ourselves towards the middle of the pond with the help of a giant iron pole. It was the worst idea ever.

The boat started leaking (“Put a cork in it,” he screamed), our shoes got wet, and no matter how hard we tried the winds kept pushing us into the wall of vegetation surrounding the tiny, artificial lake. We were stuck in the middle of a fucking pond in a boat we couldn’t maneuver. Then it started to rain again.

We had no choice. We just splashed our way towards shore, leaving the boat behind in the middle of the pond. Wet socks feel like pain.