I wake up to the sound of my dad cackling like hyena, he’s pointing at my sheets and sputtering-“You haave a looosyy goooossyy bladdaaa”. I look down, realize my sheets are wet, jump of my bed with a very manly shreik and rush of to the bathroom to inspect myself, I take care to not get eaten by furious faced cockroaches.
I emerge from the bathroom several minuets later ready to kill. I attack my dad with anger leaping across my face, I try to convince him over and over again it was sweat…but to no anvil…I only succeed in getting myself thrown into river by my rather unamused dad.
I climb out of the river dripping scalding water after a long, deflating fight with the Schwarzenegger of currents. I don’t bother using a towel as I stomp off furiously to breakfast, complaining about my back like an eighty year old Grandpa with no spine. The cockroaches follow, their whiskers twitching in unison the “—- You” song by Celo Green.
After breakfast we hire a lancha to take us to Livingstone. My previous experience with lanchas still fresh in my mind I take extra time to strap myself to the boat. First the lanch driver takes us to the infamous “Island of Birds”. It’s a small ten by ten meter island in the middle of the river that is used as a home for thousands of birds. Every person that has ever tried to venture on the island was soaked by poop rain, it’s constantly raining there. It was quite amazing. While taking photos of the birds flying above our heads, I see, through the cameras lens, a white gooey substance exit a bird and speed towards me. Being as ninja as I am I fling myself to the other side of the boat to avoid an uncomfortable collision, unfortunately I forgot that I strapped myself to the boat. I watch in agony as the substance zooms towards me…SPLAT, my brand new shirt is ruined.
After my unhygienic encounter we continue on our journey…I’m now wearing my dads humongous sweater on my bare skin and sweating like a dead cow in August.
Next we go to a natural hot spring that reeks of rotten eggs. People around me erupt in geysers of stomach smoothies, I almost throw up too but I manage to gulp down some disgusting, silty river water that saves me from even more embarrassment. Clutching on to my stomach I now wish that I had thrown up instead of drunk that goddamn water. I stumble blindly behind our tour guide to some natural sauna, moaning about my stomach. Without realizing that the rest of the group has stopped to look at a lizard I keep on going forward. Suddenly there’s nothing supporting my feet and I cartwheel down a flight of stairs screaming like my sister. I fall straight into the natural sauna. It smells like rotten eggs. I look up and see my dad standing at the top of the stairs. He tells me my dream of becoming a spy will go nowhere because instead of becoming better at life I fail more and more….and more.
Finally after the sauna we go to Livingstone. We are greeted by a black man that claims his name is Aston Martin….Yeah right. Anyway there’s absolutely nothing to do in Livingstone besides eat bloody chicken and try not to be eaten by the Alligators that have claimed their home in the central fountain. I thought it would be fun to poke them with a stick. Half a second later I got half my hair chopped off by a cute baby gator still in diapers. One good thing came out of Livingstone…I got a very badly needed haircut for free!
After eating our bloody chicken in Livingstone we went to the “Seven Sacred Pools”. We are led to the bottom of the sacred pools by a guide that wishes us luck and leaves. We set off up the smooth rocks with water pouring over our feet. Half way up the fourth pool I have a violent sneezing fit, shocked my dad turns toward my direction rapidly. He manages to elbow me in the solar plexus and propel me into the pool below. Before I surely plunge to my death I let out a strangled pledge that I will get my dad. I emerge from the water the second time today and I’m already hatching a plan. The cockroaches follow me composing a song with their whiskers.
Finally we reach the top of the seventh pool. My dad has his back exposed to me and is taking pictures of the pools below. Snickering I tense my body and give him a nice boot in the arse.
My dad gets out of the pool and charges of to the lancha. On the lancha I shake his hand and tell him it was a game well played, he lifts his nose up high and tells me it’s not over. I don’t believe him.
At the hotel my dad mockingly refuses to buy me dinner and orders himself a huge steak, with an extra big serving of fries. Defeated I go back to our stifling room and faint from the heat.