Didn’t You Get My Email? No.

Once the taxi dropped us off in Mendoza, I headed back to the hostel, grabbed my bags from the locker in the basement, said goodbye to the front desk and raced to the Vines.

When I arrived, with my bags in tow, Emily saw me and her jaw dropped.

‘Didn’t you get my email?’

‘No. I was out all day. Everything ok?’

‘The trip was cancelled. Investors are here and they are going tonight.’

What’s a girl (who has all of her belongings in tow) to do but drop her bags and have a glass of wine? Or two.




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