CHAPTER 18
ONLY ONCE WE were in a taxi on our way into town did we realise we had no idea where the Octopus dive shop actually was. Thankfully our taxi driver was able to help us out.
“Walk down the small street beside the supermarket. It is on the yemeen—the right. You can’t miss it.”
Well, he was right about that. You’d have to be blind not to see the giant fibreglass octopus outside. It was the size of a small car, each arm jauntily holding up one letter of the word “Octopus”. Of course, there was an arm left over, so they’d used that for the exclamation mark.
Flashing lights on each arm pulsated in time to bawdy piped music, and on a normal day, that alone would have been enough to stop me from going near the place. I’d go insane if I had to listen to it for longer than ten minutes
