The Siren's Code

Welcome to Paradise Bungalows

The bus pulled over on the side of the road in a cloud of dust, stones and scattered chickens, whowa Señor Driver did you forget the stop Cassie said under her breath so only Yossi could hear. She slipped on her boots and stood up, pulled her main rucksack off the luggage rack, patted her money belt yet again and bid farewell to Yossi who responded with 'Pura Vida' and the namaste prayer nod action, still beaming as he did. Confusing she thought, or co-fusion perhaps, as she headed to the front, down the steps and into the morning dust with a "Gracias Señor" over her shoulder to the not so wide awake bus driver. Then a panicked "Dónde?" As she looked up and down the sparse jungly road.

"Todo derecho" He waved randomly at the road ahead.

Trudging up the side of the road with all her worldly possession on her back like a turtle, hopefully not a lost one, she saw a sign for Paradise Bungalows, 666 Camino Costero, Isla de Blanca, a retro surf type of design with hammocks and palm trees, which would look good on a t-shirt, but that wasn't the thing she was latching onto... why was the devil on her toes? She certainly wasn't feeling blessed! But as she walked closer her obviously pretty terrible eyesight managed to focus, and it was 888. Ok, phew, that's better. She knew 888 was also one of 'those' numbers so asked Xena as she walked....

'888 is a reminder to thank the Universe for blessings and miracles that enter your life and trust that everything is always working out not only for your highest good but for the highest good of all.'

Right, adventure back on track, she carefully fingered the square of paper in her money belt around her waist, almost as confirmation, whatever that meant now was not the time for doubt, or panic, she was Cassie, she could do this.

The sign pointed down a steep stoney road, with seasons being less predictable and torrential downpours more, it wasn't unusual to see track roads washed down to what looked like dry river beds, but she followed the path directed by a few painted signs to reception. There was already a small queue of people gathered in front of the desk, a couple she recognised from the ferry, that arrived in their comfy seated, aircon turismo bus, looking considerably less sweaty than her. She removed her pack from her back letting gravity swing it hard onto the ground and wiped the sweat from her face with the top she had around her waist, nice touch girl, she hoped no one was looking.

What a place! A sandy courtyard, not surrounded by walls but palms and jungle plants, a large fountain in the middle with a stone dolphin on the top and what she assumed were not stone iguanas bathing in the pool below. Little sandy paths off in different directions winding through octagonal bamboo bungalows each with thatched roofs and their own veranda and hammock. The reception desk itself was built into a wall on the corner of what looked like a vibey bar and restaurant. As she bent down to stuff her money belt and top into her rucksack, a small white dog hurtled out of nowhere launching itself at her. Excited hello's gave way to leg rogering, which after a few slightly self conscious tries of placating him, he stopped and wandered into the shade as if nothing had happened. Keeping an eye on her as she looked around and made her way to the back of the gathering, not sure what she would say when she arrived at the front, but at least there wouldn't be anyone behind her.

As the queue depleted she suddenly remembered her sweaty state, so undid her ponytail and tried to neaten it up a little, scrabbling in the top pouch of her rucksack she found her shades placing them on her head, like she had just popped out of a chauffeur driven car. Yeah right! She rolled her eyes at herself.

And then she was looking at the guy behind the desk, and he was looking expectantly back at her. After an awkward pause she said, "Hi, I'm looking for a job?"

"Ok," he said slowly as if giving his mind time to process this.

"And the person who wrote this note," Cassie blurted. At this his eyes widening in interest, or shock, she wasn't sure which, as she yet again, rummaged around in her belongings. This was a time consuming aspect of travelling, forget screen time – baggage exploration and repack was considerably more time consuming. Pulling out first her money belt and then the blue post-it with the coordinates handing it over to the slightly perplexed guy behind the counter.