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I am sitting in a grotty little tabac in Redon enjoying a couple of beers. I feel like a local. How many years has it taken to be so confident? I fit in awfully well. Really, all I need to be able to do is to order beer and know the drill for repeat orders and I’m in a very happy place.
Matt and Bev just walked passed. I’m pretty sure Bev saw me. I am equally sure Matt ignored this. Works for me.
I may return to the boat before I get morose.
