There was so much interesting history left to study but I knew soon that I would find myself in a room dedicated to the 1970s, where the explanation of the grim life under Pinochet’s regime would begin. For me it was time to head home at this point. I’d had enough of politics and after reading everything in Spanish, my mind felt like it had been participating in a triathlon, but instead of swimming, cycling and running, reading Spanish, processing Spanish and looking at objects. Besides which I had a whole appartment waiting for me, from which I could sit on my terrace and watch Santiago act as a passage way from all the hikers heading to the mountains and all the families heading to the swimming pool on a beautiful Sunday, whilst I drink ginger
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