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“Jerry turns right and jostles through a crowd onto Casco Viejo, where the smell of fried plantains and sweet coconut lingers on the warm night air. He heads us down a narrow street of elegant colonial buildings tucked inside the centuries-old city walls. Everywhere, we pass bars and brothels open to restless newcomers seeking another raucous night.” — Michael Chapman Pincher
Jerry turns right and jostles through a crowd onto Casco Viejo, where the smell of fried plantains and sweet coconut lingers on the warm night air. He heads us down a narrow street of elegant colonial buildings tucked inside the centuries-old city walls. Everywhere, we pass bars and brothels open to restless newcomers seeking another raucous night.