After leaving Lisbon, I flew to Barcelona, then took a train next day after having breakfast with my dear grandma, headed to Cartagena. Now it’s raining and my room in the “pensión” (that my uncle reserved for me and that I ironically call “le guet-apens”-the ambush) is not as warm and cozy as was Ana’s place in Lisbon. It has, though, an interesting aesthetic.
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