This past week has been crazy with getting Zumba certified, getting sick, and moving out of Annette’s house, so I have not had the chance to work on my blog much. Here’s a short journal entry about that one time I got locked out of Annette’s house. Enjoy.
September 9th, 2015.
I forgot my key when I went to the local gym at around 7pm. Not a huge deal, I thought. Except my 84-year-old roommate, Annette, is hard of hearing. I knocked on the front door for roughly 10 minutes praying she would answer. The dog’s barking, strangers on the street are staring at me. Everyone except Annette knows I am locked out of this house.
I go to the restaurant, Como Como, across the street. I meet Susan, aka angel woman. She is determined to help me. We go knocking on the neighbor’s doors thinking maybe one of them would have Annette’s phone number (no, I did not have Annette’s phone number at that time). After talking with two different neighbors, no luck.
So, we come up with an alternative idea. I climb up on Annette’s window which is about 5 feet off the ground and start knocking. I can clearly see her watching a movie on her IPad, headphones on. She’s laughing hysterically at her movie as I pound on her window. The dog is going mad. She has no idea. Susan goes to ring the doorbell as I watch Annette to see if she can hear. Again, she has no idea.
Susan and I go back to the restaurant and she orders me a hot chocolate on the house. If you visit Antigua, I highly recommend Como Como! Awesome hot chocolate and great food!
I go to Tropicana hostel about a block and a half from the house which is quite possibly the loudest hostel in town. Loud American music, people yelling in English, cheers-ing beers every 2 minutes.
It is 10:30pm, this is the latest I’ve been up in Antigua. I am sleeping in a hostel room with 14 other people. My bus leaves for Monterrico, my much-needed beach trip, at 8am the next morning. I have none of my things for my trip. I set my alarm for 7am hoping Mario, the gardener, will be there on time.
Experiences while writing this journal entry: a 60-year-old man in my hostel room whispers to me how drunk he is, someone falls out of their bunk bed, and a couple “making interesting noises” in the bed underneath me. In the middle of the night: a chorus of the loudest snoring imaginable, at least 4 snorers.
I slept maybe 3 hours.
Follow-up: the next morning I got up at 7am and went back to the house. Annette answers the door (How did she hear me knocking? How did she get to the door by herself..?) She had NO idea I was missing the entire night.
I bypass telling her the story and pack my things for the beach and head out. I make it to my bus right on time!!!
Oh, the joys of travel.
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