The Squirrel survived the flight rather well. Like a good little girl she came rolling around in the baggage claim conveyor belt instead of doing a disappearing act like she pulled in Spain. Probably because she knew that this time I was carrying a “just in case” outfit and toothbrush in my carry-on.
I, however, fared slightly less well. After my worried parents worried me with their good-bye phone call, I spent half the flight worrying about the sundry possibilities of what might go wrong, including the fact that a blood clot in my leg from the long flight might escape to my lungs. Thanks Mom and Dad.
But, no blood clots. Just a very long bus ride followed by a very long walk. In 82-degree weather. Needless to say the Squirrel and I arrived at the hostel a teensy bit melty. Nothing a shower and an helado couldn’t fix…
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