stories from and about south america
So here I was then, on an overnight bus to Barquisimeto, having been strip-searched and wished a good night. The remainder of this leg of the trip went by uneventfully; there were one or two other occasions when the bus was stopped by the National Guard, but no further searches were … Read more...
Continue reading...→Well, although not quite as theatrical or literary as the cry from Richard III in Shakespeare’s play by that name, my trip would have been quite different if I had not had access to sim or chip cards for my telephone. Modern telecommunication has changed the … Read more...
Continue reading...→I had learned my lesson. We all learn from our mistakes – at least I hope we do. I got really comfortable in my seat on the bus, had my hoodie handy, and was already wearing a long-sleeve sweatshirt underneath my jacket. I had charged up the battery on my phone, but … Read more...
Continue reading...→The view from the backseat of the car was interesting; the countryside was green, the road condition not too bad, and the hills provided plenty of diversion. The conversation along the way was lively, and I got a precis on the political, economic and social regression of a country that had built … Read more...
Continue reading...→The gleaming red container box said “inmigración”. The doors were closed, one had a sign “entrada” the other “salida” but there was no activity. Certainly this could not be the official immigration counter to get an entry stamp? The reports I had read all spoke of a strange … Read more...
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