even no time to feel anything when leaving Espana, with this "kra-hued-kra-hob-n-kra-bue" tour, but my sole (aka soul, ieieie) still there, somewhere in Alhambra, a world heritage and 1 of the 7 wonder of new world nomination.
my poor black and decay sole never have a chance to "salida" spain or even granada, a nice and rememberablia city to lose ur soul (aka sole), ni. -- nice people except that informacion bitch at the "tren estacion".
Very nice "khun loong" at alcazaba hostal who guided us everything, most of all he boiled us some hot water for "mama starbuck's cup noodle"
and now i think my english is broken, some pieces had lost there too, i guess, nah.
one guy asked me (in English) at renfe ticket room "do you know which 1 i shud press" (he meant about the queue ticket box). I -- after losing my mind in spanish language -- "errrrrr... I dont speak English!" (actually, i mean spanish) but my "Sa-Ti" (concious) been gone for a while.
after it came back i point at "salida hoy" and said "ticket today" (ha) so that guy looked at me in question mark face like so u think u can speak english or not... but said "thank you".
this tale taught us that... there's always 1 or more "salida" (way out) everywhere. 5555555
HOY!
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