Never got a really euphoric feeling

Okay, I think was being a bit too blasé in my assessment of my reaction to the hash. I do remember sitting there in the sand with the boys, staring out across the water of the Mediterranean, and trying to explain to them, via hand signals and drawing in the sand and some extremely broken Spanish, that "Mi casa es alli" – My house is there. All the while I was pointing across the water, due east, toward Italy. No wonder they were bewildered. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure-out why they didn’t understand what it was that I was trying to explain.

The boys seemed to get more into the experience – they had a long game of tackle football with Maiol’s tennis shoe. We actually ended-up losing the shoe somewhere along the way – don’t know if it was buried, drifted out to sea, or was (most likely) just forgotten. We had to stop and buy him new shoes before we returned to his home.