Guele de Bois

Sorry its been a couple days since I updated this. Friday had nothing to report except for sleeping 'til 12:30, running, and not going out. Saturday, however, was a different story.
So, Saturday I woke up at about 9:30, looking forward to a pretty cool day. Not only does Madame have the monster yacht, but she also owns a beach house about 45 minutes the other direction in a town called Saint Malo. Its a really cool place. It an old shore vacation town, that has been home to peoples' second homes for centuries. Saint Malo is also famous for the walled in actual village of Saint Malo, that again reminds me of something out of Shrek, Cinderella, or any other Disney movie that has some "old fairy-tale town" setting. You can walk on top of the walls around the 2-mile village perimeter. It's pretty cool. At high tide, the waves roll in and smash on the ocean-side walls while at low-tide, there is a beach rugby field that is used all the time. That is, when its not under water of course.
To that end, my host family's shore house was subject to the same level of tidal excursion. At low tide, you can walk across this so-called "bay", about a half-mile to the ocean. At high tide, 12 feet of water span across this perfect, bay along the Emerald Coast.
Last night was wild. It was the first night we all went out, and we all went out hard. The last bus back to my house was 0:04, aka 12:04 AM (I am starting to get used to the 24-hr time-clock). As one might guess, I didn't make that bus. We planned to go allllllll night. During the week, the morning bus starts at 5:39 AM, but apparently on Sundays it doesn't start 'til 8:30 AM. Great. I'm in center-city at 5 AM, no cabs, and it's still dark out. I opted to walk home. It actually wasn't too bad. Other then the random bum, whose dog tried to attack me. That was cool. They really need to crack down on the homeless people in the city who have dogs. Low and behold, I made it home, with all my limbs, and no blisters from my sandals.
It's about 2:30 PM right now, and the little people in my head are still using my brain as a trampoline. In other words, Guele de Bois=hangover. A demain.