Our room's vacancy at Reggae Guesthouse was unfortunately up, so after I returned from diving, we had to pack up our stuff, say farewell to everyone...
At some point during our night of drinking and storytelling, I told Fraggle & Bilbo about how my friends used to photobomb each other with our balls out. This of course instantly became their new favorite game. I'll spare you the hundreds of photos I have of these guys' balls.
...Bertl had gotten tattoed at the bar earlier in the evening. Bilbo said "It looks good, but I don't why he wanted a tattoo of my toilet mural!" He took us into the bathroom...
Each time they lost a point, they would SCREAM at each other in French about whose fault it was. Here's an action shot of Bilbo cowering during one of Fraggle's particularly heated arm-flapping tirades. Soooo good.
We were totally EXHAUSTED from our long travel day. Our taxi driver walked us over to a bunch of dreadlocked French guys getting shit-faced at the bar and introduced us to Bilbo, the hotel's then-proprietar (who, according to the website, seems to no-longer be the owner)...
