'Give ear, my God, listen' is the phrase that is painted on the wall of the room where I slept last night. I'm Jeremy, a city south of the country, the city of poets. That of Alexander Dumas (the father) or Etzer Vilaire. Having toured the hotel, we found a room at the 'Catholic mission. " Superficially clean and minimalist comfort. I do this kind of nuance since we confirmed my allergies to dust mites. After a cold shower down the hallway, my nose took a good ten minutes to violently expel the dust accumulated during the night. The electricity left me around 23:00 and then ended what was circulating air in the room. The room turned into a sauna. Inspired by the writing on the wall, mosquitoes have asked me all night to listen. The most important thing is that I need to listen a second night ...
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