Back in our second home

I think I must be getting old. The journey seems less each time we do it but somehow I fell more tired.

The big stress this time was my tools, Viv worried that they would not allow them on the plane, I was more worried about this end. I said nothing as Viv will worry anyway, there was no point in telling her my fears as well.

The queues at Ezeza were just ridiculous, I think we could have walked here in the time we wasted. Then at immigration I got a lecture about overstaying my visa, I have paid my fine, they should just get over it. Still I told her we would only be here 89, days this time, so she was happy.

We picked up the cases, which had become giddy on the carousel and headed out for more queues. They x-ray the cases here when you leave and this was my fear; I thought that as they always try and get duty out of people that they would charge me for bringing a drill in, not to mention , the Hammerite. The cases went through the machine without a comment so I still have no idea why they x-ray them.

Our taxy driver said I should learn Spanish, then answered every question in English, still he delivered us safely home and we met Sabastian at the door.

I slept, not a wink on the plane, so a good hour or two in bed was in order. We went out for some food and then back to bed.

As I said “getting old”

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