The RED footed booby
Yes, we got pretty quiet for a while. And yes, we still share the same apartment, what is little short of a miracle ( as you might better understand after reading this episode.) And YES, life is still the very reverse of boredom sharing my life and flat with someone like you know, whom I am talking about.
So another long period of silence finds an end today. Cindy didn’t want to hold back our adventures any longer. I had had in mind to keep my holidays private, but she insisted on posting stories about OUR adventure. So we sat down in the September sun on our balcony and debated vigorously if we should present HER version or MY version of what had happened.
We came to the conclusion that, as long as I am the chronicler of our flatlife, Cindy would have to cope with MY point of view ( which is only fair, when you are forced to talk about private stuff). And I convinced her, that we would need to wait for the R to get the story of the RED footed booby published.
So this is the story, as it were.
Everything started in the very early hours of 28th of July. The evening before we had hashed and rehashed, that for the following three weeks we would enjoy life separately. My trip to Ecuador and Galapagos with my mum was due. The next morning we had an early flight to Amsterdam to catch a flight to Guayaquil later in the day. Cindys plans were still a bit vague, maybe going home and catching up with friends, maybe hanging out in Hamburg, but certainly NOT joining my mum and me on our trip, but I had reckoned without my host.
The alarm rang as early as 2:30. I tiptoed along the hallway not to wake up my flatmate, but I couldn’t believe my eyes. Cindy was already MORE than awake. She stood there next to my backpack and smiled. “Good morning, Petra”, she fluted. “Good Morning, Cindy”, I hissed, having a sense of forboding, “what are you up to? Meeting up with friends so early in the morning for snorkeling?”She was wearing a wetsuit in alarming colors and ridicilous red flippers.
“Petra”, she said, “I digested our nice last nights talk and changed my mind. I can see my friends in autumn, but “The once in a lifetime experience” on a boat around the Galapagos islands won’t turn up a second time.” “Cindy, you are not serious, are you?”, I gasped, but I already knew, that she was. She opened her mouth and I knew, what she would say in a second, I formed the words and she spoke them out loud: “Oh yes, I am really serious about it.” She kept going: “And keep your breath to cool your porridge, I rethought the issue and know, that we will have a perfect time.” She started singing in the middle of the night: “All my backs are packed, I’m ready to go” “Stop singing NOW, Cindy”, I nearly lost my temper. But I ran out of words and ideas how to avert the danger of spending my holiday with her. It was time to get ready. So finally I did something, I might regret later, having done, but I gave in: “Ok, ok, but I don’t take you along in your wetsuit, you have to change NOW.” Instantly she started explaining, why her outfit was the most appropriate you could think of for a 12 hour flight, but I don’t want to bother you with her abstruse arguments.
In the end I was accompanied by an orange sausage jumping up and down like a bouncy ball, even wearing those flippers.
My mum awaited us with gaping mouth. I was pulling a long face, looking at her. But she greeted me with the words:”Perhaps it is not such a bad thing, having her with us.” Did she mean, better having her with us, then knowing her on her own back home?
The following three weeks might have an answer for that…