1. Change my bills to smaller ones. Hopefully the front desk of this very nice hotel will do so.
2. Eat breakfast.
3. Go to the post office. Mail 5 lbs of my stuff to myself, in Santiago. I am lightening my load as much as possible.
4. Get Sello Número Uno in my Credencial del Peregrino.
And then we are off.
I said to Kirsten on the train today, "I just realized I am probably going to have to go to the bathroom outside in the next three weeks."
She looked at me, surprised, "You didn't think of that before now?"
"Nope. Guess it's too late to back out now..." This has now become my greatest concern. Ugh. I just don't like it.
(Later, as I read through our guide, I exclaimed, "We're going to Poo!! Look!!" as I pointed out a small town's unusual name.
"Of course we are," she answered, not even needing to look.)
I just heard Oprah is getting back out of retirement to do a special on this. "One Woman Conquering the fears of going to the washroom . . . outdoors." Hilarious. Keep it coming, B.. :P
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