Delfín, základní článek hnutí Brontosaurus
přihlaste se k odběru novinek
zprávy z akcí
Speleovíkend, Vilémovice 25.-27.11.2005v rámci úkolu do angličtiny napsal Piňa (příště bude v češtině)
I'll never forget the time at my friends' cottage in October 2005. After being for what seemed like eternity in dark caves beneath the surface discovering hideous creeks, we finally ascended, got in the car and in a sleepy mood we were driving back to the cottage laid somewhere in the country. I didn't even have the strength to grab some food and the idea of myself curled in the warmth of my sleeping bag seemed saving. The rest of the group, especially ever-vital Tom, stayed awake and started to throw an evening party.
"Hey, Tom, do you still mean to keep the promise go finding me a place to sleep? " I shouted downstairs when I realized that all the beds were occupied by people I'd never seen before. "Where's the problem? " I heard Tom entering the packed sleeping room. "Hang on a sec and you will be grateful for the rest of your life for the place I'll get you, " Tom's response echoed when he tried to persuade maybe the ninth person on the bed to move an inch. Talking to sleeping people is usually unpleasant, but Tom somehow managed it and soon I was positioned flat among two girls. "Thank you, what a relief! ", I whispered in such manner so as not to wake anyone up. But it didn't last long.
As soon as I wanted to turn over to the other side I got the feeling it couldn't be done without proper cooperation with other people nearby and precise planning and timing of movements. First turn went smoothly but I didn't find the courage to ask for the second time half an hour later.
"Good-bye the perfect sleeping place," I uttered when I was closing the door of the sleeping room heading towards the noisy party. "Was there some kind of a zombie call lately?" pointed someone downstairs seeing my ghostly pale appearance and immediately advised me to join a shot drinking competition in order to return to "the land of living". Singing, drinking and even playing drums were the oddest activities I have ever tried to keep myself awake.
After a while, even though my judgment might have been clouded due to intensity of these activities, I came to conclusion I was seeing fewer people around than ever before. Quick inspection of the room revealed several drop-offs scattered in very artistic positions all over the place. The rest was in the middle of brainstorming, discussing the issue of a railway job named "a braker" which was brought up lately in one of the sung songs.
"Time to leave the circus", occurred to me in a flash as I was listening to one of the fellows talking on the cell-phone with someone who can know for sure what the responsibilities "a braker" had. The final decision was made. Walking over dead bodies avoiding anyone to see me leaving I stumbled for the thousandth time in the dark of the steep stairs. "But where to sleep?" might have been the question worth hitting the jackpot. The flat space on the left side of upper stairs looked desperately deserted and immediately caught my tired eye.
"If only there wasn't the vacuum cleaner," I sighed. As every problem even this one waited for a radical solution and I could bet at this exact moment that the sleeping guy wouldn't mind sharing a little electronic equipment company until he wakes up almost hugging the vintage Hoover. In addition, "he had plenty of space for the latter part of night, so what?" I tried to justify my appliance moving action.
Being satisfied with the way things had gone lately and struggling with the zip of my sleeping bag I definitely have overlooked some major flaws. First of all the place wasn't as perfect as it seemed to be. A cold breeze was blowing directly in my face and I would have been glad not to hear everything what was going on in the lavatory downstairs. I even survived several attempts of throwing bed sheets from and to various directions, completely ignoring my objections to such a night disturbance. But the worst part of night was still about to come…
Bright and jokefull mind of Tom came to conclusion that my sleep hasn't been interrupted for a while which was, for such a traitor who had left party so early, highly undesirable. "May I ask you a favor?" caught Tom everyone who seemed to be leaving in what might be my direction. "There's a guy sleeping on the left hand side of the stairs," Tom continued in persuasive tone. "And he wanted to be alarmed when the party starts rolling again which is by coincidence right now. Just shake him and let him know. He'd be glad to hear it."
When the third person passed me by never forgetting to fulfill Tom's wishes I kind of stared blankly what the hell is this all about. Moreover someone along the way invented motto "those who sleep don't live" which spontaneously turned into new wake-up call for following incomers. I couldn't be happier when I realized that the party was finally dismissed and the very last passer who woke me up was Tom himself. But guess what, the motto will probably accompany me for the rest of my days with these guys.