We checked into our rooms at Hotel Reina Isabel and then found a coffee shop recommended by the woman at reception. On our way from the airport we passed McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken, as well as more local eateries. Here at Cafe El Espanol, the WiFi is decent, but I don’t know what the password is. When I brought my Fire HD 8 to the barrista she simply typed the password in herself.
A sharp-looking policeman deployed in the coffee shop took the photo above. He took the time to snap several shots, like a pro, so there would be a better chance of getting one with everyone’s eyes open. I wondered if it’s customary to tip a policeman who takes your photo and decided it wasn’t a requirement.
I was surprised at how many subjects I was able cover during the 30-minute ride from the airport with our private driver, William. My DuoLingo iPhone lessons have set me up with a plausible beginning in Spanish. William is 50 and has three kids, owns the spotless Hyundai we rode in and has never been to the U.S. He is an evangelical Christian and a careful driver. The road from the airport is new within the past few years, an interstate-like speedway. After exiting we continued on narrow streets with a kind of cobblestone construction, and we rode over bridges spanning impressively deep ravines.
The city seems quiet today, a Sunday afternoon. Now I am perched in a mahogany-accented art gallery and store which Deb and Darlene are exploring. It’s the perfect retail destination for our trio–lots to browse for the two shoppers and a leather couch with glass table and WiFi for the non-shopping companion. Plus free coffee, but I believe I’ll pass in order to avoid a sleepless night.
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