It was a hired car, though, small and bottle-green. I drove it all over a compound that was half housing estate and half residential hotel (the latter called “Noma”, I think) until I got bogged down in a garden that belonged to a couple of very delightful little old ladies. “I’ll come and collect it later,” I said, instead of the much more useful “Please call the rental company so they can collect it”, because when I actually wanted to find the car to either collect it myself or tell the rental company where it was, I couldn’t find that particular garden to save my life. I did tell the old ladies and/or someone else that I’d only been driving for a very short time, that was why I had so much trouble parking.
Later, there were people representing a/the regime, who needed to be appeased, so I had to peel all price stickers from a couple of frozen ducks or geese, and remove the receipts, to make it look as if the birds had been ordered especially for them.