Guate My single day in Guate (abr. Of Guatemala city) was enough for realizing, that it justly gained its bad reputation as a fucking dangerous city: All the groceries are closed by iron doors, and the owner serves you via a little window with SORAGIM; stores, which sell valuables, have private gunman standing at the entrance; and by night you here explosions and alarm. As I knew all of that in advance, I chose an hotel just near the airport, and tried not to wander around too much. And thus, ironically, after being used to wake up by the voice of the birds in my brother’s place in New-York, now I had to wake up from the noise of a Boeing 747, taking off just 10 meters above my head. Orchid The guidebook tells about a
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