Some in pain and some in anger and some just in frustration. There he was.Dead.Granddad knocked softly on the door but when no one answered, he steppe... into the room.“Are you okay?” he whispered.We were all clutched together, collapsed on the floor in front of my easel, crying. I don’t think we’d cried so much at Lonnie’s funeral the day before. We just hung onto each other and cried. Granddad looked over at the painting and tears sprang from his eyes as well. I held out an arm and he joined. I manage to get a few selfies of us, and I make a point of e-mailing them to myself as backup, should anything happen to my phone. I know there won’t ever be another chance to get another picture of us together after this trip, so the ones I have are beyond precious.Once we have seen all there is to see on the bus, we decide to have a walk through the main streets, which are filled with market stalls, street artists and live music. The cold air is filled with the smell of delicious food, coming. More

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