nothing special

In the morning I go to see R.S.A.
A merry old man, he is afraid of no-one. Just in case he calls his daughter to come and translate. She speaks English with extraordinary good pronunciation. Unlike most other people here.
I meet Thiri but the old man she had in mind is not willing to say anything without a professional interpreter, in case I’m actually a journalist. Well, so be it.
Some phone calls and agreements for Thursday. I read a few things. Find a third way to go to the Italian restaurant. I’ve been going different way every day. Now I realize how the streets are located to each other.
Tomorrow is a day off and I can be a tourist.
day off

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