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Woke up hungover and confused about last nights events. Memories of J posing at the end of the catwalk with his hood up and V nearly strangling herself with her pashmina in an attempt to be sexy, all under spotlights and in front of hundreds of people, including journalists from the local papers, and a shed load of bewildered looking Peruvian’s wondering who the hell these drunk gringo’s are and what the smeg are they doing ruining our fashion show.

Still, we managed to get out of bed and had one last effort at finding windsurfing stuff to no avail. We had a nice walk along the ridiculously dangerous pier. The wooden planks were either rotten, wobbly or missing so it made for an interesting walk above the massive crashing waves with the wind howling.

Sucking up our windsurfing failure we got a night bus to Mancora, perhaps we will have better luck there.

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