Number of terrible hangovers in the sun which I promised myself I’d never, ever make myself go through again, ever again: 2

Number of bruises on my body from hitting my board whilst getting tumble-dried coz I’m so good like that: a dozen

Number of cuts from the fins of my board: 5

Number of reef cuts: 1, on my hand

Number of times I got recognized as Jools from Snowfix: 2 (I kid you not)

Number of times Jason got recognized as Jason from Document Magazine whilst involuntary doing the drowning turtle: 1

Number of frogs living in our toilet: 2

Number of head-high waves I’ve surfed: 2

Number of knee-high waves Jason got caught in which violently pushed him around and made him look as though he was surfing Hawai: 1, but it was really funny and we’re still laughing two days later

Number of rides on the roof of a UN Jeep drunk out of our brain at 11am with Jason letting the muslim village enjoy the lovely sight of his balls: 1

Number of boys I kissed: 3

Ok 4. But there’s one I’d rather forget alas Jason won’t let me. And no, it wasn’t Jason. That would’ve been nothing compared to the guy in question. In fact, that would’ve been heaven and it would’ve meant I could live with myself right now.

Number of hours surfed daily: 5 or 6

Number of packs in my six-pack: 6 or 7

Number of men to women in this god-forsaken town: 90-1

Number of women walking down the high-street in a bikini and getting told off because this is a muslim area after all: 1 (oh yeah…)

Number of consecutive days Jason wore the same pair of boxer shorts without washing them: 16

I share a room with the boy.

Number of vodkas shots drank at 10am this morning: 6

Number of terrible headaches I have right now: 1

Number of times I’ve been told that there’s no way I’m actually french because my english is so good: f*cking endless, I need to find me another accent or something. This is getting so old.

Number of books read so far: 0

Number of times I’ve considered staying here until October and then head out to Bali for 6 weeks with Horton: a lot

Number of reasons I have for not doing so: 0

Number of times I’ve wanted to punch Fergus in the nose: every time he opens his rotten Irish mouth

Number of bright yellow Beetles I drove to the surf: 1

Number of UN jeeps I drove to the surf: 1

Number of dog-friends I’ve made: 20

Number of days I have worn shoes/flip-flops: 3

Number of days I have worn a t-shirt: about the same

Number os Swiss people here: half the f*cking nation

Number of times I’ve said I was gonna quit smoking: 4

Number of cigarettes I’ve smoked since: 300

Number of days here: 16

Number of days left: who knows…