From a cup of coffee with sunrise in the middle of the Flores Sea to a mug of strong espresso underneath Tibetan prayer flags looking on to the never-ending Himalayas, a coffee with a view is how it’s served best.
It’s 9.30pm at night, it’s pitch black and cold. I’m on a night bus going from Tucuman to Mendoza in Argentina. I’ve already been on the bus for five hours. Everybody around me is sleeping, or trying to sleep. I can hear a couple of snores coming from somewhere so there’s definitely one successful passenger. I’m really jealous of the snoring passenger, I wish I could fall asleep.
Throughout South America I’ve cooked a lot. This has been a surprising development to my travels. When I travelled around South-East Asia I never dreamt of cooking, well I couldn’t have cooked even if I’d wanted to, beach bungalows don’t tend to come with kitchens! Plus in South-East Asia eating out is cheap, whether it’s at a roadside stall, a night market or even a respectable restaurant, eating out in South-East Asia never empties the purse. The same can not be said of South America.
Recently I was in a South American supermarket, a Bolivian supermarket in the city of Sucre to be more precise, waiting for my change. You’re probably thinking this seems normal enough and incredibly straight forward. You wait a millisecond for your change, the man/woman behind the till hands it over and BOOM you’re out the door with your shopping. Well, this is not the case in South America. As I was waiting patiently for my 3 Bolivianos change (that’s pretty much zero pence by the way) the man/woman behind the till started looking at me strangely and I thought uhoh here we go again.
I’m staying in another lovely hostel at the moment, well I never like to call the places I stay hostels, despite hostel often being their name. Most often if you call a place a hostel, the word comes with a negative connotation, especially if you’re speaking to people who don’t travel on a budget or are of a certain generation. People tend to think…
Recently my mum asked me a few questions about crossing land borders, as I’m up to my fourth border crossing on this South American tour. What happens? Is it safe? How do you do it? Is there anything separating one country from the next like a brick wall????