The bus journey to Cordoba was a nightmare. I had, inevitably, left the hostel in floods of tears: the taxi driver had to give me his tissues. When i got to the station and the bus got later and later, i proceeded to chew off my hand in panic (had the bus been and gone without me noticing?!?) I eventually had the sense to check my ticket, and realised i was 2 hours early, not the bus 2 hours late. I got on, only to have a drunk man sit behind me, saying i was beautiful, and stroking my hair and asking me questions, asking me my name, and breathing all over me with his boozy breath. I pushed his hand away, but didnt want to piss him off incase he got aggressive, so tried to
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