‘Shoes are for pussies’, I overheard him saying.
(Note to self: Next time a random individual tries to shoe-shame me with a sophisticated comment on my barely covered feet during wintertime, I know what I’ll be responding with)
We were on the island of La Digue, Seychelles. Our brand new Creole friend, whom we had met a couple of days before, was not even trying to explain the obvious to a couple from Europe. If we wanted where we came from, we should have stayed there…Why, why be uptight?
I’m a city girl. I need my daily dose of paper cup coffee and some car fumes to go with it. On the flip side of that, a simple island life agrees with me completely.
There is a fancy hotel on La Digue- forgive my ignorance of not caring. Get a bungalow, make friends, take a good care of your bike. Food is everywhere, the nature will spoil you to the core. Brew lemon grass instead of coffee. Think- Takamaka Bay. Pay respects to the land that is exceedingly welcoming. Chances are that you’ll miss on everything there is to experience so get up and break these coconuts open!
On the con side of the story, and I’m really stretching here to find a complaint, could be a struggle to reach the destination. To get there one has to fly to Victoria, take a ferry or a jet to Praslin and then another one to La Digue. (Boats are not for pussies, apparently).
Thank you, David! Thank you, Robert! Thank you, my purple dress girl!