I don’t know how they cook with those ovens. But, even out here, someone stops by every morning to drop off fresh tortillas.Then the hour and half walk down the rocky dirt road to get to a place where a taxi could pick us up, and then to the bus station.
My big brother Tim said when he went to Nicaragua the buses were just like in “Romancing the Stone,” crammed with people, winding roads and people carrying chickens & such. I never figured my aunt would be one of those people carrying chickens on the bus. Please note the chickens (plural) Ruth is holding while we wait for a ride.I´m off to Quilali for the weekend...
No comments:
Post a Comment