In spite of my resolve to get a move on, today was a sacrifice deliberately dedicated to relaxation, justified by the desire to catch the Japanese Grand Prix, for once viewable at an amenable time since I was only one hour behind Japan. In contrast to the hazy hue around Semporna which made the prospect of snorkelling less than ideal, the Grand Prix started under the safety car in monsoon conditions, I was almost jealous though for the chance of a touch of such freshness! Semporna's tourist enclave promised to make it all possible, yet an unexpected power cut still managed to partially scupper the best laid plans before long. It shouldnt have been too much to ask and it led to just one more incentive to high tail it to Australia. And then the world took the piss all over again in deeming the internet unavailable due to the power cut scrambling the server and so the remainder of the day could not even be invested in proposed time on my diary. Descent into beer and football on TV again for the want of better options was even curtailed by the irritating antics of the latest horde of dive junkies, the Cherrypickers let the whole town know about their painfully childish exhuberance until long after I was trying to sleep through it just across the water. It was such a dichotomy of behaviour that the locals must have thought them all nuts and only ripe for extortion. It was a redemption in that at least my resolve to resist the vague draw of snorkelling had spared me what would have been the nightmare of their excruciating party scene. Man, I was a grumpy bastard these days, but at least I didnt make an arse of myself singing bad karaoke.