a hundred dollars

things i learned

i'd rather be dead than dismembered.

def before disowner.

water discipline is crucial.

in the countryside, people are kind to strangers.

i need a hose, a cloth and a shovel.

drive fast on wet soft sand to make sure you don't sink.

noseriding is easier than 180.

battery discipline is important. night vision is accurate.

buses can fit wings.

some petrol stations sell jelly which isn't actually jelly, just syrup with nata de coco cubes.

a deserted beach with some ruined buildings is better than a crowded beach with showers and a carpark and food.

migrating birds do sometimes break their v formation, and hunt in a swish of feathers.

when i sit on the grass and look at the sea, drinking camp coffee and eating corned beef from a tin with my brother, i am happier than when looking out the class room or cubicle window, waiting for the dreaded clock to make the time go away. we left behind the plastic world and its sticky table tops and floors, the clink of oily money and went to unpaved roads, long grass the height of your chest, sand mud unbridled trees monitor lizards on the beach and the blinking light of fireflies which make a lonely punctuation in the night.

if i soak my open wounds in seawater long enough, it stops hurting.

under a big sky, you feel small and at home.