Going with the flow…in the Maldives

In the last few days, a number of opportunities have presented themselves, and I have taken them. I wouldn’t normally have done so, but I’ve thrown caution to the wind, and the results have been pretty good.

My Second Picnic: Karl or Crusoe?

Hope you like dead skin with your rice, kids.

I have to say that on waking up I wasn’t in the best mood. Half of my shoulders was layed around me in my bed and I knew that moisturiser just couldn’t be applied on the go. With no bike, I walked to the rowing area, to catch the pickup truck. Rain spat down on my head as I went through the “this is familiar motions”.

Did I go snorkeling? Yeah obvs, but at a price.

The day started incredibly, but then slowly tailed off, but the incredible start has rendered it pretty good overall. The start was my first ever snorkel. It was a pretty good place to start, and the first thing I ever saw was a Tiger Shark. Now that’s pretty cool.

Would you like to go fishing and snorkeling? Yeah obvs.

Stamping ground

This Is the question I’ve heard a lot while I’ve been here. Yes, kind Maldivian, yes I very much would. Perhaps tomorrow will be the day I dust off my goggles and non-existent snorkeling gear, and prepare to see some sea.

Electioneering

The fishy smell of politics is in the air. For the first time, the sounds of the street were not dominated by political broadcasts or Eurovision propaganda. I got up bright and earlyish (I can’t seem to get up before 9am) to snoop around the polling stations.

9 to 5

Yes, sir.

I said I was busy busy busy yesterday. Today was busy busy busy busy. Up bright and early to meet the principal of Hithadoo School. Have I been a naughty boy? No of course I haven’t.

Turtling

Robo demonstrating the needed adjustment very technically

3/11/2013
Again no swim. Got up early but the prospect of walking to the sea, about 700m in total, was too daunting. The heat breeds lethargy and laziness. People will motorcycle a few hundred yards instead of walking. Pedometer-wearing Fatfighters  be warned, this is not the place for you.

Get my rig on

Burly men at work with a plank of wood

2/11/13
For those who know about my formidable rigging abilities and general handiwork, you will be glad do here that it turned out to be a day of practicalities and fixing things. The morning was pretty lazy, but the afternoon at the boat area (I could call it boat tarpaulin) was the opposite.

Fishface

Wot you lookin’ at

31/10/13 Breakfast was not fish curry; it was bread and peanut butter. Dinner was not fish curry. Instead, it was fish-head curry. I’m not sure if it would catch on in the UK. I appreciate that it’s good to get the most out of your fish, but there really isn’t much mileage in scraping out an eye ball or some meat from behind a cheekbone, especially when you choke on some bones like I did.

Initial thoughts

29/10/13

This is not what I expected. I thought I would be able to write a nice witty piece about people watching on my planes, which was very fun. Apart from that, there was one thing which happened which seemed ominous: on the leg to Dubai there was a choice of fish or chicken; feeling as if this might be my last chance of meat for eight weeks I went for chicken…but was given fish. I didn’t complain as somehow I felt it might be some form of fateful intervention. I pondered my fish while I ate it.

I only got to Addu a few hours ago, and it’s completely massacred any expectations I had of the content of the first post I would write abroad. To be fair I arrived when it was pitch black, so I couldn’t really work out where I was, I was just driven to a house… However I hadn’t been completely screened off from the local nature; it is something I’m not appreciating so much at this apartment; I am living in unwilling harmony with cockroaches and ignorant harmony with I’m sure a whole host of other creepy crawlies. This is being written to a chorus of frog croaks. To add insult to injury I have broken my iPod and from what I can tell, there is nothing to do at all after 6.30pm, which is when it becomes dark- I will return in eight weeks a connoisseur of back garden noises..

Due to the distinct lack of any activity from what I’ve been told, I might adopt the sleeping pattern of getting up at dawn and sleeping when it goes dark… if only to give my cockroaches some personal space when they’re knocking about. I’m miffed about my iPod, but thankfully I brought enough books to last me. But again, I’m in a conundrum as the only room light enough for read happens to be the main bug hangout. Although all things considered, I am very fortunate to be living where I am living, it is as good as I could have wished for.

Nevertheless, there are things to do. I had a sit down chat with the guy, Mr Habeeb, vaguely coordinating my stay. That is really what he is doing. I can do as much or as little coaching as I want. He has no idea about the state of the boats. He has no idea how many kids will do it. He has no idea how much they want to do. Something was muttered about a national squad…. Something about a swimming training camp. Then elections. Then back to swimming. And on and on etc. Basically I have free reign; this might sound fun, but there is literally nothing to do as far as I can tell… rowing shall prove to be my only release (apart from when I can kick back with my six-legged friends). On another note I am finding the names a bit of a challenge, my main tactic being asking them for their contact details and saying “so, how do you spell your name?” once I’ve properly forgotten it.

I have since found a dongle and so will write pretty regularly.