EL TREN DE LA MUERTE

Despite threatening to go off the rails, the worst the
Death Train had to offer was a dubbed Julia Roberts
Flick. The red-haired woman sitting next to me had her first
Child at fifteen and a Liverpudlian grandfather.
The train was held for four hours at San José de
Chiquitos. She saw nothing British in the length
Of this delay. Menacingly, the only key to the
Baggage Hold was lost; they stabbed it open with a steak knife.

Santa Cruz is low slung, colonial. Indian
Faces with pacific features barely give me
A second glance. The sore thumb Mennonites are the
True exotics, in wide brimmed hats, Edward Hopper
Dungarees, thick-set spectacles. I am still in
The hot heart of the continent, so far from the
Rest of the world it seems little wonder every
Other shop should want to be an internet café.


santa cruz 30.09.04