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Moments later I heard the sound of water splashing as she showered in the cubicle at the end of the dorm. Slurping the rest of my coffee I then munched a slice of toast before I copied Ulla’s earlier actions and washed my breakfast things at the sink in the open air kitchen — cold water, there was no alternative, just as Ulla’s shower would be cold. Not that it mattered much at a hostel on a beach in Costa Rica. A drink of water would be a good idea, and I took a litre bottle from the fridge, a bottle with my initials etched into the cap. All the food and drink in the fridge was labelled, a customary necessity given the transient nature of the hostel’s tenants. I’d seen bitter arguments leading to festering ill feeling erupt between travellers who’d spent months in erstwhile harmonious wanderings, spats about who ate the fucking pasta. I needed water to stave off the hangover that threatened behind my eyes, and took a few quick swallows to deflect the ache pulsing in my head, during. “Perfect timing,” the young, dark-haired woman behind the bar said. “What’ll you have?”“What would you suggest,” I asked her. As I draped my jacket over the back of the bar stool. “It’s been a rough day, so the first one needs to hit me hard.”“I got just what you need,” she smiled. She grabbed a glass, and a couple of bottles, and went to work. After the tall glass was filled, she places it on a napkin in front of me. “Want to start a tab?”“No,” I said. “Here, take this.” I laid a twenty dollar bill on the bar. She whipped around and placed the change in front of me. “Miss, that’s yours.” Sliding the change back to her.“Why, thank you,” she said. Rounding it up, and dropping it in a bucket by the register. She turned back to me, “Hard day?”I took a long, hard chug of my drink, “You could definitely say that.”She rubbed the back of my hand, “It’ll be better now,” she said. “Enjoy that, I’ll get you some chips.” She swiftly turned and headed down the bar.That gave me a chance to look.
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