Mexico

Spainards have the audacity of hope to call KFC, ¨Kentucky Fried Chicken Restaurant¨. Cowards.

It was pouring rain yesterday. Which almost felt like a snow day, as people were huddled in thier empty stores. I walked around the river and saw some taggers at work, right opposite a homeless camp. For some reason too, I look like I speak English.

I also bought in and tried to party like a Spainard. Which meant the party started like an American one ends, around 1am with a bunch of people posing for pictures and sighing. And surprisingly it never changed. 2am is too early to go clubbing, so we bar-hopped. Eventually, around 3am we headed toward the club, which was just a bunch of people talking to low volume music. One sloppy kiss from Enrique on my nape ended the night.

In future plans, I go to the bullfighting arean today, and throw away all plans for Portugal. Why Lisbon when I could go to Marrakesch? I will be free!