I wasn’t the only guest to have arrived in Georgetown. As well as the December rains, a stroll through the mall, second-hand radio broadcasts, and exaggerated television adverts reminded me that despite the near-constant 30-degree heat, Christmas was imminent.
The week’s events began like a flood, but soon dried into nothing more than a trickle. I have decided that it is not the isolation that will kill you, but the boredom – and the bug bites, but we will get to that later. Continue reading “Life at the Lodge: 2) Walden”
It has been one week since I traded my flight to Panama City and some Central American travelling to leap unknowingly into the savannah of Guyana in the hope that a net will appear.