thanks to all those who have followed this, you've saved yourself a dull two hours getting cornered in the pub by a string of absolutely hilarious anecdotes about all the things you never really wanted to know about a corner of the world you may never visit yourself. it's been fun.

there ain't no place like home, because home has (in descending order) bioshock 2, good pasta, available internet, glastonbury, duvets, a comfortable chilly breeze even in June, a reliable transport system, cereal, posters on the tube for trash fiction, The Family, Wimbledon, cider, Jennifer Chiarotti, a dependable british sense of humour, and your mum.

i'm bored of volcanoes, tropical rainforests get in my way, paradise beaches just weren't what they once were... time to go back to England.

a great day of surfing, and all the boxes are ticked. rented a board from a man called Tigre (Tiger) who, after my first few relatively triumphant hours in the morning, introduced me to his 4-year-old son Mar (Sea), after at which they both went out. i sat on the beach, watched Mar surf better at the age of 4 than i think i ever will in my whole life, and cried.

so my old hostel was on the beach, had hammocks, free coffee and a fun security guard. my new hostel has internet, a pool, pinto in the morning, a book exchange, dvds, table football and a pool. tough life, really.

i would like to know what i did to insult the shoe gods that in the space of one week i've broken one flip flop, one trainer and one lace on my remaining pair of shoes. to rub salt water in the wound (a literal experience surfing this morning) the gods have deemed to break the right one of every pair.

and the last thing my homestay family are going to remember me for will be how i handle my first alcoholic beverage in two months. and they've chosen whiskey for the experiment. fun times.

final day at school yesterday, final day at the house today, it's all emotional and stuff.