I spent the last three days marvelling at your teamwork and wondering why the leaves nearest you weren’t good enough, but respected your lifestyle choices anyway. I painstakingly avoided your ill placed trail under the gate, making sure not to squish a single one of you every time I stepped from the garden to the beach. I thought we had a mutual respect thing going.
And this is how you do me?
I’d been out of the house for about three hours. Three hours of lazy beach chilling. And returned to what I can only describe as a plague of biblical proportions. I couldn’t even reach the first step of the cabin- the whole thing was swarming. The outside walls were completely covered. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Yet again I found myself tiptoeing between giant ants, this time for my own protection as well as theirs, and as I opened the door, I saw them. Everywhere.
The kitchen was crawling. Floor, walls, surfaces. Everything. They’d even claimed the tiny terrace. It didn’t make any sense. There was no food left out and no ants aimed towards where it was stashed.
I ran over to the landlady’s hut a few hundred metres away and called out for help.
“Oh I know sweetie” she said, “I’ve got ‘em out front too. I haven’t seen ‘em like this in four years. They’re awful, but the good news is, if there’s any tarantulas in your cabin, they’ll get ‘em.”
That didn’t really make me feel any better.
“The thing to do is completely cover ‘em in soapy water ‘n’ try to sweep ‘em away with the broom. There’s a hose out back. If you can manage not to stand on any, hopefully they won’t attack you.”
It turned out the huge ants were looking for somewhere to put their eggs. They were moving on mass, choosing the best location for the job, which they’d apparently decided was every inch of my cabin. I really didn’t want to be there when they all hatched.
What followed was two solid hours of screeching like a little girl while battling swarm after swarm of seriously pissed off ants. I used the hose, I threw buckets of collected rainwater (because there’s no mains water in paradise) and I swept like I’ve never swept before. All the time trying as hard as I could to not actually hurt them and clearly not succeeding.
At one point I thought I was going to lose. One particularly angry bunch chose to run towards instead of away from me when I broke up their gang. They advanced over and over again, like the Terminator, refusing to concede until finally another bucket of water proved too much for them. Not one of them gave me a thumbs-up like Arnie as they went under though.
Now pretty much every ant is gone, within reason of course, this is the jungle after all. And all that’s left is a collection of painful bites on my legs and the paranoia that they might come back for me in the middle of the night.
Today basically sucked.
Giant Ants 1 – Paradise 0.