After failing to contact with the French Resistance, we get some burgers. Rome A mist begins to slick our windshield and the road blends with the night horizon. We never find the road which leads to Rome. Tim's pork tenderloin sandwich measures almost a foot across. If nothing else, there are no food shortages here.
Some mechanism makes a flowing river scene roll continuously past.
The water in the scene runs in twisting eddies and rushes down waterfalls. A gentle light from inside the sign gives the river a flawless serenity. Fidel Castro would light up a stogie with pride. Refreshed, we bounce out of Havana and head west. A rare glacial hill looms by us and inky black mastodon cows stand atop it watching our passage.