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There are no images for this month. It is in effect the end of the story. It's not that nothing happened, far from it. The staff talent show would have made for some great shots even though the talent was a bit sparse, but my nervous colleagues were concerned that they would end up on the internet (they were right) and then be pestered by talent scouts. July in Mexico was only six days long anyway. On July 6th 2001 I boarded flight BA 242 bound for London Heathrow. Now as I sit in my bedroom in England with the temperature below 20C and grey skies swirling overhead, I have to ask myself, "I was there wasn't I? Mexico wasn't a dream was it?
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