Hello friend! I surely hope you’ve been better than me.
Oruro is a god-awful, no-good lousy town. I make up my mind as soon as I jump out of the bus and the poignant smell of piss and trash hit me, a cocktail so typical to third-world towns and bus stations but which I have so far successfully avoided in Bolivia. It’s close to midnight, my mouth hurts and I’m alone in a new city that looks like a suburb to a violent Wild West village. I stomp past a woman yelling for passengers to the bus to Cochabamba, my next destination, and I long to jump on it and leave behind the empty, dark streets of this useless town, but I’m in need of a nice sleep and a thorough toothbrushing session even more, so I trudge along. more “Sunday postcard from… Oruro, Bolivia”
Hello friend, how are you?
This postcard is going to reach you late. (Just blame the South American postal service and hope that it doesn’t take as long as it took for that care package mum sent me from Finland – I can’t believe I waited five months for a bloody cheese slicer.) Actually, I’ll probably arrive home before this card does. I’ve been doing the maths, adding up numbers like a diligent little first-grader since that is about the level of maths that has been required in order to complete my calculations. Let me just catch you up to speed: more “Sunday postcard from… Machu Picchu, Peru”
Hey, how’s is going?
It’s been a while, eh? I’ve missed you, believe me when I say I have. Sometimes I think about all the familiar places and comfortable routine that I never got used to even after four years, and I feel a little pang of nostalgia for them. Saudades, as they’d say here. more “Sunday postcard from… Novo Hamburgo, Brazil”
For the first time in months I can remove my jacket.
The touch of the sun is gentle and loving, like that of a lover’s. It is just a show she puts up for me since in a few short weeks she will be back to her old self, biting my pale Finnish skin hard, smugly leaving her marks all over. But not today. Today is the first day that I feel sunshine in months, and she lets me have this one. more “Sunday Postcard from… Lagos, Portugal”
Ah, holiday season. I found myself in yet another party where the only people I knew were nowhere to be found and the loudspeakers were blaring loudly enough that I had very little hope of hearing what any of the strangers might say. I sipped on my apple cider and checked Snapchat yet again. Some people were singing along; I didn’t know the song. more “Sunday postcard from… London, the UK”