A month at home

There I was, wearing only a shirt and a trouser in a place where it was freezing. Only a few hours earlier I was still in a place where my clothes did justice to the weather, 10.000 kilometre to the south where I was threatened to death once again on the morning of departure. By now I was back in a country where everyone speaks my language, where I know the public transport system and where I can get the food I haven’t had since I left home.


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