Wednesday 6th April - 8AM

Wednesday 6th April - Mossel Bay

After finding a map that promised to show me to the beach, imagine my disappointment to find that it was just a large collection of rocks. While I did try to make myself comfortable, this didn't last long, so I quickly went off the idea of soaking up the sun. Instead, I returned to the BPers and had a swim in the pool.

After finishing there for the evening, and suitably showered and changed, I went out to see what Mossel Bay had to offer me in the ways of entertainment. Sadly, not much.

After walking the length of the high street, looking for somewhere, I realised that on my walk I'd barely set eyes on another person. It was like a ghost town. Hardly boding well for a buzzing night out...

Eventually I happened upon an Irish pub called "Patricks" where they had TVs, so I asumed the show the Real Madrid-Tottenham game. Other than the barman, I was the only one in there. There was a deal for steak and chips and 2 drinks for the equivalent of £3, so I took full advantage of the offer, and a bit more.

After my meal, and the obligatory ice cream, the game started, which was good as I had the place to myself. Until, of course, the only other people in Mossel Bay that evening arrived, and were disgusted by the football being shown. After a few drinks each (audibly tutting at me for watching football and allowing their night to be ruined by it), one of them had a bright idea. Going over to the jukebox, thet spent a bit of time deliberating, before picking a song and blasting it up as loud as the volume would go. So while I'd previously been able to listen to the commentary in peace, suddenly the voices of Ian Darke and Ray Wilkins were competing with Akon.

The group started dancing, and pointedly looking at me, hoping I would back down, take my football elsewhere, and leave. Having already taken full advantage of my dinner + drinks, and realising that Vodka Red Bulls were much cheaper than cider or beer, and given the fact I'd been waiting for a long while for the football to start, I'd had quite a few by now. So instead of leaving the pub, I took some change over to the jukebox and chose some songs for myself.

The group looked confused at my mind games, and stopped dancing. And after my songs had finished and the voice of Ray Wilkins began to boom out again, they drank up and left. Me 1 Mossel Bay 0.

The game itself was no great shakes, with Madrid beating 10 man Spurs very comfortably 4-0. So I paid up, and satisfied with my evening's travails, stumbled back to my hostel.

When I had gone out that evening, I had been the only one in my room, but when I returned, this clearly was no longer the case. Of the 6 bunk beds, 5 were filled with various sleeping strangers. My bed was the top bunk of the furthest bed away. I knew I had to be quiet. I knew they were all asleep. And I did try. But as I subtlely tried to climb the small ladder to my bed, there were all kinds of bumps and thumps. I wanted to get changed, or even put my phone, wallet and keys somewhere, but fearful of making even more noise, I had to lay there, with everything in my pockets, and sleep in what I went out in. As I was fairly uncomfortable (and because I'd had a fair bit of Red Bull) I was unable to sleep, and wary of moving in my bed in case I woke everyone up again, I just lay there.

At some point I must have got to sleep, as I was woken by German chatter at around 7 am. Revenge, I'm sure, for me waking them up the previous night.

That was my evening in Mossel Bay.