I wander through Sucre for the last time with a wistful feeling. The city has grown on me within a short time. If it weren't for the smelly micro-buses, it would be a place where you could definitely imagine living for a while. These vehicles are the only public transport in the city, half-sized, completely dilapidated buses, ...
The poet Jean Paul said: “Memory is the only paradise from which we cannot be expelled.” Travel is not only an inexhaustible source, it is a volcano, a geyser of memories. Every day offers new impressions, never-seen images, encounters, faces. And whenever you think you've seen everything, experienced everything...
Maybe it's a mistake, but I was persuaded to skip the extremely arduous nighttime bus ride to Sucre and book the 30-minute flight instead. So instead of taking the night bus this evening, I'm at the tiny airport (probably an airfield) at nine, I'm checked in in seconds and shortly afterwards I realize that...