PAULINA ROSTAKOVA’S ADVENTURES
JULY 30
7:11 p.m.
Astana, Kazakhstan, hotel room
Taking the opportunity to write this while Dixon snoozes. Poor guy, he was up all night guarding the car, not letting me take a turn like we’d agreed to do.
Crap. I shouldn’t have written that there. Now it’s out of order. OK. Starting over.
We arrived in Kazakhstan with what I’m coming to think of as the standard amount of issues, or as Roger calls it, “The damned curse that someone has placed on me, and if I find out who has done it, I’ll string him or her up by his respective balls!”
I would have giggled at the “his or her” part of his conversation, but at the time I was too worried about Dixon being kicked out of the race . . . dammit! I did it again. Gah! Starting over again again.
The flight from
