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Feb 22, 2017
Black tea and sugar never tasted so good.
A steady downpour of rain had chilled me to the bone. My fingers felt like icicles. Climbing steep, slippery, uneven steps at Petra, Jordan left me drained.
The smell of smoke reached me before I saw its source.
And then I heard, "Come and sit down. You must be tired. Here, have some tea."
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