The taxi is a three-wheeler: two, back-to-back, metal bench seats over the rear axle, welded to the front half of a motorbike. On this we, and our baggage, travel to Las Galeras; slowly, noisily and belching black smoke on every hill. We are glad when the hour long trip to the north coast is over. Las Galeras is a small fishing village - the fish seller comes to the door every morning while we have breakfast. Fish or octopus today? It has to be fish! The octopus looks like tripe with a pink skin. And, anyway, we don't know how to cook octopus. Breakfast comes with a fresh coconut full of juice, and lots of fruit and coffee. We are staying in our own little cottage overlooking the beach. In the evening, we cook the fish
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