Your story of getting lost in Cardoba reminds me of getting lost in Paris. It was my first afternoon & I went out shopping, I lost my direction, forgot the name of my hotel & was almost in tears by the time I got back. After that I always made sure I had something with the name of my hotel on it.
posted on 09/26/2003 3:48:08 PM PDT
;-) You must have started drinking during the flight, haven´t you?
getting lost in Paris
Happens to many. They stumble into a Leftbank bistro, run into a small group of intense, coffee-drinking, chain-smoking bohemians and are never heard from again except for a few indescribable paintings and indecipherable essays found in an unheated attic years later.
posted on 09/26/2003 3:54:03 PM PDT
(Repeal the Law of the Excluded Middle)
Good advice! I'll always do that from now on.
posted on 09/26/2003 6:46:10 PM PDT
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