The next morning I wake up in an acclimatised room with a large tv-screen showing "France 24". Breakfast with papá. I spent the day in the house looming, large TV movies keeping a tired soul busy. We had Mauritanian Tajin, goat meat and liver served on a plate of rice and eaten in balls with your hands. A little girl comes into the room to bring me tea, smiled when I took the little glass then ran out of the room.
