Few people escape from Clubmed, but luckily, some mornings I woke up in another city. Once, it was Amman. Amman is pleasant, in a Western, tourist sort of way. I asked a taxi driver to take me to the centre of town, where local restaurants fed local people. I ended up in Rainbow Street, where authenticity is delightful feigned in a way to make armchair travellers like me feel comfortable. Another time I found myself in Erbil, a Kurdish city in Iraq, for the time being. People said it was old, around 5000 years old. The Citadel looked it. Wow, that and the market was a culture overload, so I headed back to the hotel, where the top floor restaurant offered skyline views through stained windows and a Latino night spectacular performed by a pair of
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