The clock ticked down as we had less than thirty minutes to find our way out of the labyrinth that we brought upon ourselves. The further we adventured into the unknown, the more our once unscathed gleaming shoes became soiled. We kept dredging through the dense, and sticky mud that now engulfed the path. The same path that was once created with the type of gravel that crunches and crackles like pop rocks in water. Every step further lead us out of familiarity, inching into an unfamiliar landscape. Furthermore, the probability of returning to the fluorescent tourist filled road dwindled. The insurmountable maze we had stumbled upon threw us in a daze. As a result, we had not a single speculation in our conscious minds on where …show more content…
We did not have an exact trajectory, nevertheless we knew we were heading towards the right vicinity. Furthermore, we kept our hike in the same direction in hopes of finding an entity of any specialty that could assist in our travel back to the Village’s downtown. Ahead of us was a group of tourists wearing conventional tourist garments. They wore ordinary shirts and shorts, wide backpacks, and were lugging along overbearingly hefty suitcases. The only importance in of these facts was that they appeared as if they knew where they were heading, as a tour guide lead the way. We approached, assuming they spoke English, and asked, “Hello, do you know how to get to the docks?” A small blonde woman wearing a green headband responded sternly, “nicht Englisch.”. Despite my inability to speak the German language, I was competent enough to comprehend that what she spoke meant she didn’t speak English. I can only speculate that both Cedric and I were both thinking reasonably and assuming the Germans knew where the were going, especially since they had a tour guide. The other logical step was that they were either leaving Tortuguero or just arrived and were approaching a hotel because they had their luggage with