CHAPTER 12
I'm 300 miles from the end of my journey. I decided it'll be in Acapulco, Mexico. I look in the mirror and in front of me is a primate man. Only then I understand what I've been through. 6,000 miles of driving rain and darkness and forests and sinkholes and twists and turns and villages and beaches. 6,000 miles in which I almost didn't leave the car, I didn't speak to anyone, I didn't shave, I didn't change clothes, I didn't shower. About two weeks of vipassana.
Heaven's sake!
I decided that when I get to Acapulco I'm going to treat myself to the most expensive hotel that's ever been built there. Enough, I deserve it. I dream of the bath I'm going to take. Oh man, why did I remind myself of bathtubs? Bathtubs are Philly.
I give up wanting to take the most expensive hotel and
