Lesson n.4: contract a travel package
Well, we started to play down the thing by saying that we would go straight home and so we could change, but at that point Ina shyly and a little embarrassed confessed that this was the only day outfit she had brought!
“THE ONLY ONE?” We said in chorus.
“How the only one? I mean, did not you put anything else in your suitcase? ”
“Yes, I have only three evening gowns and two costumes,” she replied a little annoyed and a little guilty. At that point Linda and I both laughed and ten minutes later, we found ourselves waiting for her sitting on a bench in a small square outside a shop where she was forced to enter to buy her second outfit for the day, a short cotton dress of white color.
For this reason, therefore, when I’m on holiday, I prefer to have everything under control, from the hypothetical stain on the dress, to the hypothetical situation in which you have to necessarily change your clothes because something unexpected happened.
While I remembered these hilarious moments with my friends, I turned on my side hugging the pillow and wondering if I should not start getting ready to go to the beach, even if inside me I felt like I was forgetting something very important.
I decided to wait a bit more ‘in bed from the balcony you could see the sea and closing my eyes I could also hear every rustle that emitted the waves crashing against the rocks and everything was very relaxing. In fact, my bungalow had a truly strange and romantic location at the same time. Like all the lodgings it was located on the rocks, a palafitte built above them connected to the other by small steps and wooden corridors that rested between one rock and the other. One could thus go from one bungalow to another or descend directly into the water from the rocks, through the path created by the ladders. If instead you went down the stairs on the other side, and not from the one facing the sea, you came closer to a square, where you arrived directly at the Hall of the complex.
When I picked up the tourist package in Milan in the travel agency, I immediately fell in love with the photos of this strange and suggestive location. These stilt houses, which I saw in the tourist brochure, had immediately captured me, imagining that there would have been nothing more beautiful than waking up and going straight into the water.I took a deep breath, I looked at the clock I had placed next to the bamboo nightstand and noticed that it was just 3.30 pm
I got up and started packing up the suitcases.
The room was not very large, but surely it would have been a cozy love alcove like those seen in South American soap operas. It had an entire wall covered by a beige four-door wardrobe. It had no decor, no carving, nothing, it was definitely poor art, but not what we define in Art History, this seemed really poor: four light wooden boards mounted with nails to create a wardrobe.
Yet I liked this Spartan look.
The bed was placed in the middle of the room and had only one bedside table placed on the left side, between the balcony and it in fact. There was only a small picture framed by four bamboo branches that reported the words “Welcome to Jamaica”. For the rest only huge white walls lit by sunlight that came from the huge balcony with sliding door that covered almost a whole wall. In front of the bed there was a door placed next to that of the exit that was that of the bathroom. It was not bad. It was all tiled in blue, with a shower on the corner, a toilet and a sink with a cabinet on two doors, always strictly in “poor art” style.After about half an hour, I had put everything in the wardrobe, divided the shirts by color and order of importance and arranged in rows the ten pairs of shoes that I had brought in order of comfort. I decided to take a shower and go to the beach as soon as possible looking for a big bamboo for the evening.