I arrived in Puerto Blessed messenger, but not after a few dramatizations. To begin my enterprise I took a taxi to the airplane terminal that the inn sorted out. They´re a bit pricier but I thought the comfort was worth it. But on the way to the airplane terminal we got ceased by Mexican police. Clearly it´s ordinary for them to halt drivers arbitrarily and to inquire to see their papers. When my driver pulled over he said to me in broken English ¨I´m not a taxi, ok?¨ The police inquired me a few questions in Spanish and indeed in spite of the fact that I may get it bits, I played imbecilic and said the driver was my ¨amigo¨ and not a taxi driver. Two policemen afterward and twenty minutes sitting within the car, I
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