With the danger of being eaten right back to bloodied skeletons before the jet boat saw fit to pop back up the river, action needed to be taken. Soggy twigs were gathered. Precious final sheets of toilet roll offered up with grave faces. Air was blown carefully onto the fizzling leaves with surgical precision. After many cycles of hope, and hope being dashed, suddenly it took hold, and the relieved castaways stood round holding their breath with their faces in the smoke, trying to gain respite from the evil face bitters!
Jet boat man didn’t even bother popping over to say hello on our side of the river when he arrived. The boat was quickly filled to the brim with ‘othersiders’, then he sped off back down the river leaving us and a group of Israelis waiting for his return. He is coming back isn’t he..?
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