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However, I didn't come far. While running up Chemin des Adrets I could hear that hunters were out, and knowing it was the season for wild boar, I knew what they were out for. Running up the small trail, the shooting suddenly was much closer, and I stopped dead. After maybe having drunk too much pastis, the locals might take me for a wild boar, so I decided it maybe was wise to make my turning point.
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More...
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