On the other side of our world (as we are on the other side of their world), on a desert island (OK, usually it is not desert at all, it is even supposed to be crowded, but now it is the monsoon season), at the single open bar among 4 km of seashore, on my left, the local surfers sing Bob Marley and watch Desperate Housewives at the same time (yes they can !), on my right a table of local guys discussing and having some drinks. Discussing with the bartender, we speak about society games. It appears that he doesn’t know the “mexican” (a French dice game). He finds some dices, calls his friends. 3 hours later we’re still there, with in addition a lonesome Australian woman who stopped counting her Carlsberg cans to join us.
Written with the noise of the jungle just behind the bingalow