Baz Vegas

Tonight was Barry Town. This small town from what we could see is no different to any other very small village. A few farm houses scattered around, with tractors and ploughs parked up and down the road. But one enterprising resident had come up with the great idea of opening a hostel here. A bit of an odd idea one might argue, with it being in the middle of nowhere. But what this entrepreneur had noticed is that it is a long journey from Picton to the grand tourist attractions of the south; a long journey that coach-loads of travellers do every day. So it was clear that his idea is exactly what the coach companies had been looking for.

The hostel was Baz Vegas. And after arriving and having our dinner, six large boxes full to the top with outfits was brought out. Amusingly, it was quite clear that the place was fitted out for much bigger crowds, e.g. a fully packed coach. Our coach happened to be quite low on numbers at this point… to be precise: there were only six of us! (Me, Lukas, Tannith, Paul, Yuri and girlfriend) That meant we literally had a box each. A very amusing night ensued, with everyone wearing multiple outfits at a time, and eventually as drinking games started to get involved, a random dare led to all the hair from the top of my right leg being shaved off. The chafing for the whole of the following week was unbearable.