Fat Lady Locals

Fat-lady singing out my window, it's not over. You just blew your proverbial voice load, and I'm calling you out. You presume it's over, but who's making that outlandish claim. Dream bubble pops. Damn. Back to reality, and I resent my false claims because she was right,  I was wrong, even though I created her deep inside my dream-state. Recollection is faint, as with most of my dreams. It probably wasn't that important anyway.

Breakfast feats turn future feasts into delectable treats for my soul. Once you adapt to the few oddities of differing cultures, you realize people are all really the same. Certain particulars abound in personalities everywhere, and traveling is really about adopting particular. I now call a bathroom a toilet. Not too difficult. It makes the locals feel more comfortable at any rate.

Housing is sorted. A place to rest the spirit is essential, and I have to say the new cave is of the highest caliber that I will have frequented in quite some time. Stoked is a word I'd use to describe my excitement level. Patience must be practiced until the facelift is done, and we are given the signal to invade. This will also be the first "home" I've acquired overseas. Neat. 

Enough of these bombastic words! Here, photographic evidence.