Our last day with the car, we headed the 20 miles or so down to San Diego and Mission Beach. We were looking for a nice hostel close to the beach but couldn't find one. I managed to get some network and found one called Rogers International, on Mission Beach, strange, we couldn't see it so we called it from a payphone. Roger answered and and told us he was on the corner. We all headed down to the corner literally opposite where we had parked the Dodge. He stood on the corner in the strangest shirt with flowers and horrendous colours, reached his arm out, formed a gun with his hand and pretended to shoot at each of us, what a freak!!! we went in to his hostel and headed up the stairs. The walls
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