Denver, CO. The sunsets here are insane. I thought all those postcards were kidding! You know, with the purpley mountains looming craggily in front of the tangerine colored sunset and the wispy pink clouds and the bagpipe music. But no, turns out they're bang on.
I'm experiencing my very first American hostel experience. Can I just say how much I prefer staying in hostels to staying in hotels? Hostels have kitchens, free wireless, convivial atmospheres (rather than angry shouting Indian ladies who wake you up at 10 am), shabby old furniture, handlettered signs, and nice people who work at the front desk and give you maps to the Safeway. Also, this one costs $19. A hotel costs at minimum $50.
Albuquerque is amazing. It's very dry. My nostrils have received a workout. Driving to Colorado was long and tedious and my butt hurts.
I just remembered why I don't like hostels. Young shirtless bros drinking beer and charging around the communal kitchen. I want to punch them. The Democratic Convention is in town sometime soon. I want to punch them too.
Actually, punching in general is starting to sound like a good idea.
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