02.08.2013 - 02.08.2013
Every night there is some Ecuadorian equivalent of bad karaoke going on in the hotel or right outside of it. Drunk-sounding men. Not so loud that you would ever dream of complaining but with that rising-in-volume quality that lifts you right out of a nascent slumber. Sometimes it sounds like a prolonged and musical shout of goooooool, but I don't think that's it.
I never did go to sleep early last night. Stayed up until 3 am writing emails to arrange our Galapagos cruise. Then stayed up a bit longer wondering and worrying. Now Chris is sick. He curls his hot skinny body in such a way that it takes up 2/3 of the bed. We thought we'd chat before going to sleep, but he's out already, breath pushed out in sharp exhalations. I'm worn out, too. I suppose we won't rest easy until we're on that damn boat.