A nothing day today. We eat breakfast and enjoy the early morning sun. As we enjoy a coffee, a local beach vendor descends on us touting a wonderful “oil for massage”. He gives us a small sample and some neck pain Ms Emma has woken up with is eased. We buy a small bottle.
Later in the day, we are walking back from lunch at Scallywags and notice a commotion on a building site. There are a number of roosters and chickens on the site squawking and we notice some cats sprinting away from the site on the road. One of the cats has a chick in its mouth and is making a getaway. One of the builders is racing frantically around the site, trying to scare the other cats off, and also trying to chase the cat with his chick in its mouth. On the edge of the site a body emerges from a hut where it’s occupant has been asleep. We deduce that the sleeper’s sole task on the site was to be watching the chickens and ensuring that the islands cats were forced to look elsewhere for food. On this point, he has been an abject failure. The chase over and the cats somewhere feasting, the site manager turns his wrath on his sleeping co-worker. You don’t need to understand Bhasa to know this guy is getting a serious bollocking.
That night in the villa Ms Emma asks me to massage her back which is getting a bit tight also. I break open the massage oil purchased that night and the smell of liniment wafts through the room. I don’t go crazy with the oil, in fact, I’m quite conservative. Soon, my hands are starting to tingle with a warmth. I’m working Ms Emma’s lower back when the tingling in my hands becomes a painful burning sensation. Somehow, some of the oil has found its way to Ms Emma’s privates and suddenly the burning sensation in her nethers becomes unbearable. As I’m washing my hands, Ms Emma takes a leap into the spa and dilutes the pain in double-quick time.
The oil is binned equally as fast.