Ahh the infamous lost day. This is not some cool metaphor for what it is like to travel across many timezones or to be transported to the other side of the world in a matter of hours. No, this simply means that we had to spend so much time on a plane today it would make your grandma’s head spin.
We warned: there may or may not have been a mix up at dinner causing me to have double the necessary dosage of malaria pills, so it’s finna get soooooo odd and immune up in here.
Aside from New York Christian having a brief confrontation with the beluga-man hybrid sitting behind him and Josef proclaiming “well, I’ve had a good life,” during some turbulence, we learned that Africa is essentially the same as the show “Whose Line is it Anyway.” The jolly, self-righteous, yet foreboding figure of Drew Carrey is epitomized by the colonial powers that essentially left this continent depleted and unable to form orderly lines when going anywhere. The people of Madagascar are just like the show’s comedians, just trying to do the best they can and primarily making things up (like English words, everyone here just makes them up only to switch back into speaking French to us).
We are in a country of potholes, goats running free like those clowns that were out scaring people in the U.S., and an exchange rate to where I am literally holding a brick of cash (they don’t take credit cards). “Ooo, wow papi, is that a brick of 5,000’s?” “Oh, I’m sorry, did I flex on y’all?”
Luckily, our hotel is an oasis of calm, internet, and first worldliness in this town that we still cannot pronounce, and Josef immediately went to sleep upon arriving. Therefore, Christian and I took it upon ourselves to go explore the amenities of our accommodation, which I somewhat regret. As a connoisseur of cheap massages, I wasn’t going to sit idly by and let a $27 hour massage not be taken, but this was unlike any other experience.
While speaking French to us, the receptionist/masseuse/waitress handed us some robes. Easy, ya boy can slip into a robe like I’m Brad Pitt in that movie with the robe, you know? I just didn’t want to make any of these 5’4″ Madagascarernesian men jealous or anything. But then out of left field she tosses us some type of rolled up scrunchy. If you think a fashionable LuLuLemon headband is new to me, then you’re sadly mistaken, but this was not for your head. What we unsheathed looked like a lunchlady’s hairnet from some type of twisted lunch scene in one of the HBO “late night” features. This was like a baseball cup made of mesh from a fisherman’s net. This was a beard net for a lunchman (2017, we’re not out here discriminating) that makes you think, “maybe I’m not hungry anymore.” More or less, this thing was a strap-on banana hammock to keep your best friends both scared and tucked away. Honestly, the massages were ruined, and I’m having problems looking myself in the eyes.
To make matters worse, the masseuses were caught behind bushes giggling, pointing, and waving at us during dinner… Jokes on them though. I got a nice oil bath and a new wallet/cereal bowl.
Please comment below and check back tomorrow for some sweet drone shots!! We’d love to hear from you all.
With slightly higher voices,
Hans, “Chlorophyll shouldn’t be a word on hangman,” Josef “I’m basically the expert after watching Penguins of Madagascar,” and Christian “I know it’s 20hrs of flying, but I’d rather not eat the airline food” Braunfisch