Farewells and so. Those were tranquil days: Internet, laundry, picture processing, and updating fiction (or how to fulfill the promise of writing 4 pages of fiction a day).
Saturday. ‘The curse of chugchucara’: now I guess how come black mama is called that way. Tried it, and then it came: a night of progressive vomit.
Sunday offered me the chance to reconsider my erratic plans while getting prepared for Quito.
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