A typical waiting room filled the front of the building and a woman looked up from behind a desk as she entered. She raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "I ...ound your website..." Jessica started awkwardly. The woman handed her a clipboard with a thick packet of paperwork. "Fill that out and bring it back when you are done," she said. Jessica read through the paperwork, which turned out to be a mess of nondisclosure and waivers in case of injury; not something that boded over very well as an. The buzz of the crowd grew steadily until I had to shout over it into Terry’s ear. Finally, as the sun was beginning to set, the opening act took the stage to thunderous applause. Unfortunately, the applause was premature. They were bad. Laughably bad. The songs all sounded like variations on the same basic tune, as if the band had only managed to learn just a handful of chords. This one they played a little slower, that one started with an acoustic guitar intro, before going back to more of. He took advantage of the Tourist industry and offered luxury clients a pampered taste of being out in the wilderness of the vast empty extreme desert. Our eyes locked a few times, very briefly when we were being checked at the reception. An ancient old clay building renovated to look shabby chic, the age old tannery pits now converted to aesthetically beautiful spas. My arms were spread out with my back to the rough clay, the hot water the consistency of Milk with her sitting on me. Locking. There was a café, and bar across the street so we enjoyed a decent dinner and drinks. I guess there had been a strain of driving for me and I drank several drinks too quickly. We staggered our way back to our room and Mel pulled a bottle of gin from his bags, pouring one for Marie and himself while I declined and laid out on our bed. They turned off all but one light and were engaged in low conversation while I began to doze. I finally stripped off and climbed beneath the covers still.