Pancake rocks and Ferg burgers

By the end of this trip you can go and roll me around the street. That's exactly what I've been doing for the last four weeks: rolling from restaurant to snack bar to cookie shop to ice cream parlour. I'm forced to wear dresses because they are the only things aside from curtains that fit around my new circle shaped body. Honestly, it's been so worth the extra lumps of fat in all the wrong places. While stuffing my face with the biggest burger I've ever seen (a ferg burger - the bombay chicken. It was good. Google just turns it into an awful looking thing) I was already dreaming about dessert. And dinner. And dessert after dinner. Midnight snack. And you can't start the day without a big breakfast. You can imagine how draining travelling can be, so lots of great food and a bottle of red wine have become two basic needs in our daily lives. We're not spending money on a place to sleep, so why not throw it at snack bars and pay them to turn us into fat women? That's one of the reasons we were looking forward to seeing the pancake rocks. They were stunning. To celebrate our little walk to the rocks, we treated ourselves to a piece of cheese cake. The same day we met two guys from Chile who share our love for barbecue, so we decided to travel together for one week and ten thousand extra kilos.

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