I finally collapse in a sprawled out heap of bones and hawaiian shirt on my bed and awake alone 6 hours later to notice that the bedroom door is wide open. Uh-oh …. I have nothing whatsoever worth stealing, but I wonder how many of the other guests in this tiny hostel in this tiny town may have beheld me in perplexed awe; an enigmatic tribute to Tupiza’s arcane nightlife. ... A whole restaurant full of indigenous Bolivians all in traditional dress in Tarabuco freezes as I enter; the last sounds of cutlery clinking linger briefly in my mind in an instantaneous echo as the scrape of a few final chairs on the concrete floor is briefly heard and the lunchtime hum and all conversation comes quickly to a complete halt. The room sits in near complete and motionless silence just long enough to blink twice – ; It seems that noone recognises this lone and uninvited stranger who has strolled casually into their town on a Friday. The owner emerges from a back-room and recommends the Hostel Inn on the other side of the town-square to me as his place is full. I stroll over with my backpack – uncomfortable enough owing to the impending (though yet unknown) arrival of Mary – while whole teams of Walleyballers stare dumbstruck at me the entire time.
Posted on: Wed, 11 Sep 2013 19:30:39 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015