The Kandinsky is a cruise ship today. The Butter Mouse watches me from the shelf in our cabin. Time is already harder to keep track of, so my apologies if there has been a delay since the last post. I have had to switch tenses and everything.
At the moment we shoot past icebergs the size of space rockets. There is the odd person fishing off the side, decked in stripy wooly hat and jumpers, but apart from that this part of Nadada is deserted.
So, to fill the time here’s the rest of the story of my arrival.
We were in almost total darkness in the cave when something tickled the back of my hand. I brushed four little red dots off my skin.
I expected the confetti. The kaleidoscopic cascade of paper is reported of an entrance to Nadada, and remains one of this new world’s greatest mysteries. Chemical tests cannot provide an origin, and any existing footage or photos show the confetti falling out of rock, appearing from nowhere like particles in space. Some say this is the birthplace of the rainbow.
When the multi-coloured explosion poured from the ceiling, I knew accepting this job was the right choice. The gap year student whipped out a cherry coloured umbrella, and spun round in a circle, allowing the confetti to tangle into her hair and clothes. The shower increased from a drizzle to a monsoon, and she covered her head, vanishing from view.
Coloured paper filled the boat to my ankles, and invaded my mouth and nostrils. The Butter Mouse’s fur turned into a technicolour snowstorm, and my suitcase became neon vomit.
The driver spotted me scooping the paper into the water, and brushing my arms and face.
‘Don’t panic,’ he said. The confetti wrapped around his dreadlocks, and he didn’t even blink. ’
With that he vanished into the cloudy parade, and I was alone. I only knew the Butter Mouse was still there because she was snuggled in close to me.
The hallucinations began. Not real visions, but with nothing but coloured paper to look at, your mind plays tricks. There was a tiger, jumping through the jungle undergrowth. There was a bunch of bananas in a bowl. Here was an octopus, dragging himself along the sandy floor. The driver was right. The best thing to do is enjoy them.
We burst through into an ocean not too different from the start of our journey. The air frees itself from the neon glow, and blows the paper across the water like a chaotic painting. The gap year student shook off her umbrella, and the driver nodded his head, and smiled.
I looked back, like so many people have before, and tried to spot the source of the confetti. Behind us was a tiny opening into the rock, impossible for any boat to fit through.
The Kandinsky was in the shape of an island that day. Hundreds of birds flew overhead, looking for scraps. Our driver zoomed us ever closer, and my stomach knotted to cricket ball size.
So that’s how I reached The Kandinsky. Later today I am going to try to a Nadadian experiment, so I will let you know how that goes.
What do people spend their time in Nadada fishing out here, where there is nothing but ice? Not my scene. At least not yet. .
