November 30 2011, our 32nd wedding anniversary.The differences in those used to city life and the country bumpkins were beginning to show We woke up in a cabin on the San Vincente Ranch to the sound of tropical birds, early sun streaming through the shutters and mist rising from lush vegetation in the forest. When I asked the girl with jet eyes, who hadn't been sleeping well, if she'd heard the dawn chorus, she replied, 'No, thank God, I was wearing ear plugs.'
We visited a cave and on our way out, as we were browsing the hand-made crafts a couple of local women approached the few women in the party, rubbing their hands and arms in a washing gesture. 'Baby. Soap?' Soap wasn't something we had thought of bringing from the UK. From then on I became a soap monitor. Members of the family donated small white cubes or bottles of shower gel from the hotel if they weren't using it. Every time the bus stopped there would usually be a disabled man and a very thin woman waiting for soap monitors. We also had the odd child asking for sweets. On one occasion after a bit of hassling Rhys gave away his half eaten packet of Hacks. As the child popped the cough sweet into his mouth, I had to turn away.
Ainsley saw to it that our wedding anniversary was one we wouldn't forget. I smoked my first hand-rolled cigar at the tobacco farm; at lunch we were serenaded by a salsa band and treated to pina coladas made with fresh coconut cream; applauded by the audience of an open air night club and treated to many drinks. To finish the evening I pulled an older member of the family we called 'Uncle' into the swimming pool with me, fully clothed.
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