So, yesterday I left you on a bit of a cliffhanger. Well, I suppose it wasn’t really that much of a cliffhanger. I ended by saying that we had cause to fear for our lives, however< I assume that you've already realised that we clearly aren't dead, given that I'm writing this Dollop. Unless of course I've found some way to Dollop from beyond this physical realm, and am blogging from the afterlife. Yes, I may be in paradise, reunited with all my deceased loved ones, but I've told them they'll have to wait to show me around heaven and that we'll have to have a catchup later, because I've got a daily blogging challenge to maintain, and death is quite frankly no excuse for shirking. In fairness, my dead relatives won't have to wait all that long; I mean, what does a few minutes matter when you've got all eternity to play with? Or perhaps I have died and my laptop has been recovered. Someone has then managed to guess my laptop password, find that day's unpublished dollop that I wrote just before my death, then guess the password for my website, and publish the Dollop. But if that is the case, then how am I writing this? Unless I realised that death was imminent and hurriedly managed to type this before death came. I could have written my last will and testament, or a final message to my friends and family, but instead I chose to write just one more Dollop before I died. But I think you know that this isn't the case, and that, at the time of writing, I am still alive. So yesterday's cliffhanger wasn't really that dramatic, because I am clearly not dead. So, when we parted company yesterday, there were five of us in a car heading to the industrial Canadian town of Trail. There was me, and the other two Young'uns, as well as a couple of hitch hikers who we'd just picked up. As soon as they got in our car, a rather severe storm began; maybe not severe by Canadian standards, but certainly bigger and more dramatic than British storms. The whole place went dark, the car lights came on, and we cautiously crept forwards. Our car was probably moving more in a side-to-side direction, what with the wind shaking us, than it was going forwards. Our two hitch hikers began to murmur to each other in Spanish. They then both laughed in what I'd describe as a sinister manner, but perhaps it was just the foreboding atmosphere outside that was making me feel like the situation inside was also circumspect. There was more unintelligible whispering, another laugh, and then ... “We know a short cut,” said the girl. She said this in English, just in case you were thinking that, even though my Spanish isn't good enough to know the majority of words, I just so happen to know the Spanish for “we know a short cut.” “It's probably just easier to follow the Satnav,” countered Michael, not wanting to start going off the beaten track. There was more Spanish murmurings, and then … “It'll be easier in the storm,” said the girl. This time, she did say this in Spanish. It just so happens that the one Spanish phrase I know is, “it'll be easier in the storm.” No, I am just being hilarious; she said it in English, but I had you fooled for a moment there didn't I? Go on, admit it, I did, you gullible idiot. “Continue straight,” said the satnav, as if trying to warn us against trusting these two new passengers. “The satnav is saying to go straight. This route seems pretty simple,” Michael responded., which seems a fairly logical argument, as what could be easier than simply travelling in a straight line. The Spanish mutterings recommenced. They sounded a little bit more urgent now. There was a flurry of words, and then they seemed to come to an agreement on something. Then there was some shuffling around, while the girl tried to get something from her bag. Just then, there was a massive clap of thunder, and the car jolted. Oh my god, it's clear what's happening, I thought. These people are trying to kill us. They have invaded our car with the sole purpose of killing us, conquering our vehicle and taking our possessions. It's the Spanish Carmada. They'd tried their best to get us off the beaten track, so as to kill us without drawing attention to what was going on, but there plan hadn't worked, due to Michael's opinion that we should continue following the satnav's literally straight forward directions. And so They'd just had another conversation with each other along the lines of, “it's very foggy and dark. We could probably get away with killing them here and now, and no one would see.” The two of them had agreed to this plan, and the girl was now rummaging in her bag for … what? A gun? A knife? An Axe? The other two were too busy trying to concentrate on the road ahead to notice what was going on. It was down to me to restrain our two assailants and thus save our lives. My life, and the life of Sean and Michael, lay in my hands. I braced myself, ready to act. Her hand came out of her bag, and she was holding … a map. Upon consulting the map, it suggested that the girl was correct, and that there was an easier and shorter way after all, and so we changed our route, which took us out of the storm and onto a better road. Now that the danger, both real and imaginary, had passed, we all fell into conversation. Alexandra was from Mexico, Erin was from Spain. They were both in their early thirties. They'd only known each other for three months. Erin was in Mexico with work, and on a night out he met Alexandra. They spent the night talking, drinking and dancing. Afterwards, Erin went home with Alexandra, and what they spent the rest of the night doing is none of our business, although by the morning they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Erin spent the rest of his time in Mexico with Alexandra, staying in her house. A week later, it was time for him to return to Spain, except he wasn't keen on going, and she wasn't keen on letting him. Two weeks later, he had quit his job and was back in Mexico with Alexandra. Two weeks after that, Alexandra had quit her job, and she and Erin were in Canada. And they've been in Canada for the last two months, sleeping in a tent, hitch hiking from place to place, looking for manual work such as cherry picking. They don't know what the future will hold, how long this will last, or whether they'll stay together or go their separate ways, choosing to live by the philosophy of living purely in the present. But for the last two months they've spent all their time in each other's company, living together, sleeping together, travelling together and working together, just the two of them. Three months ago they didn't know of each other's existence. The original plan had been to drop them off just outside of trail, where they would continue hitch hiking to their final destination, a further hundred miles down the road. But when they heard we were musicians and that we'd be doing a free concert tonight in Trail, they decided to change their plans and come into Trail with us to watch our gig. At the gig, we mentioned to the audience that there were some hitch hikers wanting to travel into Creston, in case there was anyone who might be able to help them. There are other things to tell you about Tuesday night's concert, as it was rather surreal. But I shall save that for tomorrow, as this Dollop has already gone over 1300 words. Today's Dollop is my last Dollop at the age of thirty. But will I make it to 31? That's another cliffhanger. You'll have to come back tomorrow to find out. I am a master atcreating dramatic tension.