Annie was full of shit, the sun did not come out tomorrow. Sunday was badly named in this instance, drizzly and cloudy.
The resort’s outing for the day was a canoe trip to a “magic waterfall” over a “fern grotto” beneath which we could bath in “sacred pools”. This, I surmised from participation in the Friday expedition, not to mention a lifetime of cynicism, would prove to be a load of crap. Nevertheless, the prospect of another day staring at abandoned amenity was reason compelling enough to sign on. Continue reading 04. Coup de Grâce?