Impressions of the old city:

The traffic is insane
The motorbike riders are even more insane
There are people EVERYWHERE, people in the tens, if not hundreds, of thousands.
There are literally thousands of shops, all selling almost the same items over and over again.
There are men and boys with handcarts transporting huge bales of goods backwards and forwards, on these hills that has got to be a tough job.
When the roads and lanes narrow it becomes a veritable log-jammed river of humanity, the motorbikes do not care!
The overwhelming smells are petrol fumes and oil. In the open spaces it is roasting chestnuts and sweetcorn, in the madding crowds the smell is of soap, not body odor.
The sounds above all are the incessant honking of horns.

And my favourite encounter today was a young chap with an armload of knockoff perfumes who approached and said ‘hey mr American, very cheap perfume, only 20 euros’ thereby managing to simultaneously insult my heritage, my flat cap, and my intelligence

I have retired to the hotel aching from many parts of my anatomy and having clocked up close to 15KM walking, that deserves a refreshment!