When we asked if our friends had arrived she started flicking through a pad of crisped yellow paper, licking her index finger to seperate the pages.
´German?´she asked, ´There have been some Germans here´
´No, French; They arrived yesterday.´
She shook her head and inverted her mouth to resemble a dried prune. Her daughter sat on the tiled floor of the dining room cutting out pictures from an old cereal box with a butter knife; her pink frilled carnival dress spread out around her like a blister; the hem dark with sand and salt.
The sun was licking the corners of the sea out of the frosted window and so we asked for a room anyhow. She looked at us doubtfully. ´There is one´ she replied ´Right at the top, if you want it.´The wooden key rack behind the desk was missing only two keys, but we agreed and followed her up the dusty concrete steps to the final shallet which slumped against the brow of the hill behind the hotel. She handed us two small pieces of dirt streeked soap, a couple of used towels, and a small silver key with a bird cranium as a fob. ´There´s a television´ she remarked in a tone of consolation, walking away as she said it.
The room was dark and damp; the bamboo celing had decayed in the centre and sagged precariously over one of the beds. As I sat down I noticed a trail of talcum powder dotted across the moss green blanket; along with a shallow vale of dust. Above the curtain rail a clot of termites swelled from the wall. It did not strike me so much that the room was unclean, but that noone had been here for a long time yet we found it exactly as it had been left.
We could hear the murmer of cocktailed music, and not wanting to stay in the room for much longer we decided to head down to the water front.
A low night mist had settled over the town heavying our hair with salt. As we walked towards the white concrete arch at the bottom of the steps two snarling dogs with enormous paws emerged from the shadows and blocked our path, sinking back on their haunches with an instinct to attack. As we startled back an old man in a wax fishing hat stepped out from the shadows and kicked one of the dogs in the back leg with his tough rubber boots. ´Where are you going?´he spat in gap toothed hostility; his accent was thick and dry like flour. We nervously pointed at the arch, and at the same time noticed the varnished rifle slung over his shoulder. He shook his head in the same knowing way as the woman, but produced a set of brass keys from his pocket anyhow and advanced towards the gate, which we now realised was secured with a heavy chain in the centre.
Along the line of the beach small bamboo shacks stacattoed the road. As we drew nearer it became apparent that the low wooden bences and swings for seating were empty, yet behind each bar was a staff of two or more who looked at us vacantly as one might look at fog in the line of vision. The sea wind caught the swings and they mimed the movement of the absent people who had one sat there, creaking as though under the pressure of a body. The bars were adorned with various types of ripe tropical fruit; other curiosities such as animal skulls and gnarled driftwood were strung from the rafters as decorations.
´German?´she asked, ´There have been some Germans here´
´No, French; They arrived yesterday.´
She shook her head and inverted her mouth to resemble a dried prune. Her daughter sat on the tiled floor of the dining room cutting out pictures from an old cereal box with a butter knife; her pink frilled carnival dress spread out around her like a blister; the hem dark with sand and salt.
The sun was licking the corners of the sea out of the frosted window and so we asked for a room anyhow. She looked at us doubtfully. ´There is one´ she replied ´Right at the top, if you want it.´The wooden key rack behind the desk was missing only two keys, but we agreed and followed her up the dusty concrete steps to the final shallet which slumped against the brow of the hill behind the hotel. She handed us two small pieces of dirt streeked soap, a couple of used towels, and a small silver key with a bird cranium as a fob. ´There´s a television´ she remarked in a tone of consolation, walking away as she said it.
The room was dark and damp; the bamboo celing had decayed in the centre and sagged precariously over one of the beds. As I sat down I noticed a trail of talcum powder dotted across the moss green blanket; along with a shallow vale of dust. Above the curtain rail a clot of termites swelled from the wall. It did not strike me so much that the room was unclean, but that noone had been here for a long time yet we found it exactly as it had been left.
We could hear the murmer of cocktailed music, and not wanting to stay in the room for much longer we decided to head down to the water front.
A low night mist had settled over the town heavying our hair with salt. As we walked towards the white concrete arch at the bottom of the steps two snarling dogs with enormous paws emerged from the shadows and blocked our path, sinking back on their haunches with an instinct to attack. As we startled back an old man in a wax fishing hat stepped out from the shadows and kicked one of the dogs in the back leg with his tough rubber boots. ´Where are you going?´he spat in gap toothed hostility; his accent was thick and dry like flour. We nervously pointed at the arch, and at the same time noticed the varnished rifle slung over his shoulder. He shook his head in the same knowing way as the woman, but produced a set of brass keys from his pocket anyhow and advanced towards the gate, which we now realised was secured with a heavy chain in the centre.
Along the line of the beach small bamboo shacks stacattoed the road. As we drew nearer it became apparent that the low wooden bences and swings for seating were empty, yet behind each bar was a staff of two or more who looked at us vacantly as one might look at fog in the line of vision. The sea wind caught the swings and they mimed the movement of the absent people who had one sat there, creaking as though under the pressure of a body. The bars were adorned with various types of ripe tropical fruit; other curiosities such as animal skulls and gnarled driftwood were strung from the rafters as decorations.
On the other side of the street tiled restaurants filled with plastic garden chairs cast angles of light across the empty pavement; faded chalk boards all boasting the same seasonal menu. The whole town seemed to be waiting to begin, but for what I couldn´t say...........
2 comments:
obsorbed and drew me in - How scary was that man and his dogs!! Weirder still was the sea front! Keep them coming.
Drew me in and absorbed me - How scarey was that man and his dogs!! Even weirder sea front - Keep it up and lets have more.
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