Olympic Sprinting

Who was it who said that those whom the gods would destroy they first drive mad? In our case it mad with the pain of exhausted legs due to some confusion about the way back to the bus after the museum visit. After traipsing round the wonderful statuary and artefacts, we left early, not through lack of interest, but to allow time for a leisurely walk back as the guide had made it clear that she wanted us all back by 2:00 pm. We walked for about a kilometre, crossing the bridge back to where the bus had dropped us off and waited for our companions to appear. And waited, and waited …

Eventually it became obvious that neither companions nor bus were going to appear, so we made our way back to the museum. As we approached it we could see the buses waiting in another car park, on the other side of the river. We stopped some passers-by and asked how to get over there and they were adamant that the only route was back the way we had just come.

With aching legs, we made our way back across the bridge to the original car park and made our way in the general direction of where we had seen the bus. Eventually it came into view, but just as we reached the car park it started up and pulled away. All the curtains were drawn, so no-one could see us. At that point, we noticed another bridge, leading to the museum a couple of hundred metres away!

We decided that our best option would be to get a taxi to take us round the town, figuring that since it was fairly small a restaurant with three coaches outside should be easy to spot. However, as we approached the taxi rank we met a search party out looking for us and Saskia gave us a lift to the restaurant, which was only a few hundred metres away.

In my heart and in my head I felt like Odysseus, reunited with his old dog on returning from his travels, but in my back and in my legs I felt like Sisyphus, who had to push his stone up the hill. Apologies to everyone who had to wait for us and to our guides for being so kind, and not even cross with us. (Karmanie)