Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 13

           MybackgaveoutonmyfirstdaytravelinginAfrica,IwastheonlymemberofmypartytoemergefromthejunglesofVenezuelawithinfectedspiderbites,andIaskyou-Ibegofyou!-whogetssunburnedinStockholm?

           Still,despiteallthis,travelingisthegreattrueloveofmylife.Ihavealwaysfelt,eversinceIwassixteenyearsoldandfirstwenttoRussiawithmysaved-upbabysittingmoney,thattotravelisworthanycostorsacrifice.Iamloyalandconstantinmylovefortravel,asIhavenotalwaysbeenloyalandconstantinmyotherloves.Ifeelabouttravelthewayahappynewmotherfeelsaboutherimpossible,colicky,restlessnewbornbaby-Ijustdon’tcarewhatitputsmethrough.BecauseIadoreit.Becauseit’smine.Becauseitlooksexactlylikeme.Itcanbarfallovermeifitwantsto-Ijustdon’tcare.

           Anyway,foraflamingo,I’mnotcompletelyhelplessoutthereintheworld.Ihavemyownsetofsurvivaltechniques.Iampatient.Iknowhowtopacklight.I’mafearlesseater.ButmyonemightytraveltalentisthatIcanmakefriendswithanybody.Icanmakefriendswiththedead.IoncemadefriendswithawarcriminalinSerbia,andheinvitedmetogoonamountainholidaywithhisfamily.NotthatI’mproudtolistSerbianmassmurderersamongstmynearestanddearest(Ihadtobefriendhimforastory,andalsosohewouldn’tpunchme),butI’mjustsaying-Icandoit.Ifthereisn’tanyoneelsearoundtotalkto,Icouldprobablymakefriendswithafour-foot-tallpileofSheetrock

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