Funny thing about tours, is that sometimes, there isn’t a turtle neck or scarf big enough to keep everyone’s secrets, a secret. A couple of tour hookups are providing mild entertainment for the group.
Journeying by bus onto Sucre, another small town with less hills, less altitude and a majority population under the age of 30.
A brief walking tour of the city upon arrival Sucre and drinks at the top of the hill overlooking Sucre. Nice place. Sucres selling point is its dinosaur park, home to the largest T. rex footprint. For me, it’s the topiary of a giant cat in the city square park.
Topiary is the horticultural practice of plant sculpture aka clipping the foliage and twigs of trees/ shrubs to develop and maintain shapes).
An afternoon nap and onto an evening of mojitos, macking, and dancing with some of my new favourite guys n gals. ‘Twas mucho Calientes… until I look over the dance floor to see a couple of guys from our tour with their shirts off, absolutely tanked. One of the funnest nights out so far. That place sure put the happy in happy hour.
I wake to a woman screaming and yelling “help fuego”. I recognise the Spanish word fuego as “fire”. Fuck. The fire alarm starts going off. My Scottish roommate Alexa gets out of bed… Never have I seen someone put on a pair of jeans over flannel Batman pyjama pants so fast. It’s impressive. Meanwhile, I’m standing topless, in my underwear, contemplating where my passport is and what to wear. The alarm stops as a blackened heater is tossed over the balcony into the courtyard.
No hangovers in sight. Time to get a run in. The rest of my morning is filled with rooftop sun baking, drawing, hanging with Elvar and listening to music. Grateful for weather warranting nothing more than a bikini.
For lunch, a Bolivian Buffett so big, it puts me into a food coma…
Sunset from the rooftop of the hotel is mint. Silhouettes of churches between burnt naranja coloured tiled rooftops.
One more chilled day in Sucre, sitting in parks, people watching and a night bus onto La Paz…