They glanced at my boots with a hint of disgust. The holes, since long dried dirt and though they could not smell them it was as if they could see the cat-wee all over them. My one and only amazing pair of trekking-boots.
I sat down on one of the chairs beside them, putting my bag down on the floor with an intense good feeling that life is perfect. I got off the train to meet my CS-host in Malaga, and after some tea at a perfect Arabic inspired teaplace we went on a perfect walk along the ocean. What can I say? The trip had a perfect start.