11 p.m. We finally got to our room and were all searching for the light switch because it was so dark in there. Alex slammed the door and realized the inside handle was missing, which sent us into a laughing, chaotic scramble to figure the place out. We used the torch to get our bearings. The previous tourists had left Polaroid photos of themselves on the wall with messages. Irma's like scalded. We've got bunk beds, but only 4 beds and there are 5 of us, so we all burst out laughing. The boys couldn't believe what we had booked for our stay. The bathroom looks like it's never been used or cleaned. Wait, Steve picked up a used condom with his bare hand. Oh, no. We girls are disgusted, but the boys are starting to like this fetishistic accommodation. Suddenly, the lights come on and a sweaty receptionist walks into our room with a big tray of something like a sausage with bread and mustard. The receptionist takes a bite of it in front of us to prove it's fresh.
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