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After two nights in hotel bolivar it was time to move on. Not much travelling activities have gone on in the past three days. Mainly just aimlessly exploring cover easily double digit km in a day, which taught me very quickly not to wear flip flops for long journeys, followed by some wine and bars in the evening. Looking forward to moving into a hostel so we find one for a fiver a night, the cheapest in BsAs. A short walk away we go to check it out and are met with a less than desirable outside and a non speaking English receptionist. He shows us a room, which is pretty tight but liveable for the price. To save us the embarrassment we decide to book online, go back grab our bags and come back and check in. Arriving back in the hostel de sol he shows us to our room... Which is not the same room. 3 bunk beds packed into the far corners leaving hardly any room for anything else. Two columbians lay asleep in the sweet box creating a musky odour to complement the stained walls. I'm not chuffed by the situation but Dyson is far from happy. We have a nap to ponder and whilst i fall asleep Dyson gets into more of a
stress about the hostel and decides he can't sleep here... Ever! Secretly pleased I begrudgingly say we'll move. Hostel De Sol is not one for the faint hearted or in fact has any sense of smell, sight or heat. Pure GRIME!
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