Hunger woke me. When I opened my eyes, it took some time to adjust mentally to the unfamiliarity of the room before the events of the early morning fell into place.
Surviving the ferry had given Madeleine a renewed appreciation for living. Confidently, she had steered us past the touts and into the dark at the end of the dock; I’d been grateful for it – my own attempt at being intrepid was rapidly fading. But when the hotels she’d circled in the Lonely Planet guide greeted us with firmly secured doors, her confidence had waned.
In a final attempt at leadership, but too tired to speak, I indicated with my head towards a park bench on the foreshore, visible under a solitary streetlight. We removed our packs with a thud and sat down heavily.
Across the still water, the harbour lights of Bo
