Morning Campers.

So, I´m listening to Test Match Special over the Interweb and thinking of Days of Empire.  All I need is a G&T with some quinine and the era of the Raj would be back.  Shame I´m on the wrong continent.

Where be I?  Currently, I´m residing in a place called Hone Creek, which is inbetween the Caribbean villages of Puerto Viejo and Cahuita.  My work is frankly bizarre, this voluntary business isn´t quite what I expected when I got on the 747 at Gatwick. I appear to have temporarily become a glorified caretaker. I´m banging around a haçienda-like property in sandals (beginning to whiff), pyjama bottoms and a garish Hawaiian shirt that smells vaguely of the sea.  I lock up at night and open up in the morning.  I have swept up, put out the bins and also painted a gate.  Fascinating work I´m sure you´ll agree.  However, I do have some tasks more inline with my skills to do. 

Last weekend, I went to our turtle project to help out.  Gandoca is a beautiful place about 8km from the Panamanian border.  The beach is a spectacular example of the black, volcanic variety (visitors to Lanzarote will know what I mean, although the wind doesn´t whip the sand into your eyes). Apparently I am lucky, because it has hardly rained.  Given I´m living in a rainforest, I can understand why the locals say that. 

One evening I was sat, alone, guarding a turtle hatchery from 6 to 12 midnight.  It gets dark here at about 6.30.  In front of me was a black and silver sea, above me stars both familiar and strange and behind me a midnight forest punctuated by the iridescent green flashes of fireflies.  It was the first time that I understood why I was here, even if the weird jungle sounds sometimes scared the bejesus out of me.

Caretaking duties finish on Friday.  I think I might have a weekend break.