Hot spring evening

The drive, if rugged and beautiful, began to seem interminable. 15 miles on pretty much rubble, up and down through canyons and valleys and across hills. I watched the sun with trepidation, desperate to get to where I was going before dark so I could set up my tent. The previous 35 miles were smooth and quick, but the road suddenly turned into this boulder-strewn path. So long along it that I began to wonder if I had missed a turning, and if so what would I do? Or if I had a puncture here, what would I do? No cellphone signal in this far-off part of south Texas, unless there was something from across the Mexican border, and that wasn't likely either. No reasonable town anywhere for miles.

Then I passed, first, a roadrunner on a big stone next to the road. Just sat there watching me, arm's length from my passenger window. Second, a donkey munching placidly by the side of the road. Somehow, the two animals lifted my spirits, and in fact I got here only ten minutes past the donkey.

And I had enough light to put up the tent, then to go soak in a tub fed by one of the hot springs. 110 degrees, the man warned me. Just like I like it.

And now I sit here on a swing under the darkening sky, a clear sky that holds the promise of many stars. A fingernail moon is in the west, just above the shadowy hills.

A guest who has arrived after me stumbles past in the darkness, but then sees me and asks "Hey, that wireless?" I say yes, and he turns to his girlfriend stumbling behind him and says "Hey, they have wireless here!" And she says "Yayyyyy!" and dances a little jig. I tell her that was my reaction. Minus the jig. There's no cellphone signal, but I can use the wireless signal to call anywhere in the world from this back of beyond spot.

I think Fiji is first on the list. Why not?