I’m exhausted. It’s a bad combination when you mix back-to-back eight-hour motorcycle rides and lots of snow. I’m staying with my friend Sara in San Marino and her visiting her Dutch amica Willers. They’re old friends, and I feel somewhere between accepted and a third wheel. When I arrived in San Marino, I was too jumbled and frozen to accurately describe my whereabouts to Sara over the phone. I flagged down a passing driver, who was able to interpret my location for Sara. Then the driver motioned for me to follow her, and led me about 3km back the way she had come, to a warm coffee bar where I would await further instructions. It took almost fifteen minutes for me to thaw out, and while I thawed, a tall, well-dressed friend of Sara’s came in
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