It’s not long after 05:00 and the early stirrings of the mind are beginning to rouse the senses. I am aware that the night was fitful mainly due to the board like bed and the rocks made to appear like pillows. It’s funny, in a strange bed, how you just can’t seem to find that wonderfully comfortable place, that sanctuary that you can slip into and enjoy the next hour or so before getting up.
I digress. In the background there is the sound of the “Mullah” beginning his morning call. I am used to these sounds and admit to the fact that they do not cause me undue concern. In fact this one starts very quietly and then gently raises the sound level in a very comforting way. His tone is also pleasant so not particularly rousing to me. In fact I doze off again in no time only coming to because he has stopped and it is quiet again. Now safe in the knowledge that I can relax and enjoy a few more minutes before getting up myself.
Now I hadn’t said that it is Sunday morning, in fact, I hadn’t realised myself until the frenzied screaming, through a loud hailer, disturbed my last moments for this morning. This time the chanting was in English and by a Christian, now I don’t know what to call him, gofer is probably about right. Anyway he is so loud and does not stop for breath. He just keeps going on and on and on about nothing special, well to me anyway. He repeats himself every few sentences and with little or no intonation. Maddening. Then, as if by magic he stops. Only to continue some distance away and much quieter.
Well the upshot is that my morning is now well and truly spoilt, so with the time coming up to 06:00 I get out of bed and go for a shower. Nursing my aching back and hoping that it improves during the day.
I just thought I would share the start of a day, well one hour, in the life of a traveller.