Today we succeeded at riding the bus. We waited about an hour. One bus passed us by because it was already overpacked with people, at least we assume that's why the driver didn't stop. Eventually a fairly empty bus came along and we ventured to the town of Maori. The name has nothing to do with the New Zealand aborigines, that's just a coincidence.
We went in pursuit of a pear-ricotta torte which had been raved about by my son's doctoral thesis adviser, an Italian not given to hyperbole. We didn't know the name of the place, but we knew it was to be found in a bakery in the main square. Somehow this information proved adequate, although we had to ask around a bit.
It was, indeed, delicious.
And possibly somewhat nutritious.
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