Letter from a volcano

I was tired and I didn’t want to go. The day after 12 hours of driving through a safari park filled with hippo sightings, cooped up kids and potholes that stressed the axles of the Landcruiser Prado and the core for those lucky enough to be sitting in the middle seat left my body complaining. So when I heard we would need to take one of the country’s infamously cramped minibuses for our weekend away …

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