Saturday morning. Up fairly early, pack and have my last divine little breakfast from the lady working the hostel. She's so cute. Like a grandmother. I want to hug her when I leave. This morning we have pancakes and they are amazing. I don't normally say this about pancakes. They aren't my thing. But the street food or the suspect Donne from the night before has left me not feeling so good. So on this morning pancakes are perfect! My ride arrives at 8:20 and I'm off on the next part of my adventure. Peter, an older Dutch man, talks my ear off on th way to the airport. He's been living in Granada for 17 years and is married to a Nicaraguan woman. He's quite interesting. It's an hour long car ride so I won't
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