We needed some time to calm down after the intense day at the market, so we went to The View for a pre-dinner cocktail. I got a mojito.
It was good. And drinking it, in an incredibly deep and soft couch, I suddenly remembered another mojito that I had drunk. Natalia, Cecilia, Jonna, Alice and I had climbed to the top of the hill in central Sucre, the constitutional capital of Bolivia, to look at the view of the city. There, in the small park, we met two American backpackers who we started a conversation with – and then the heavens opened and the rain poured down like there was no tomorrow. We ran, and the American girls lead us to a bar by the central square where they had been the night before. There, we all ordered lunch and mojitos, and the American girls told us about the amazing quality of the cocaine that was sold at the end of the guided tour of the San Pedro prison in La Paz. We countered by starting a long discussion about the great merits of the Harry Potter novels. By the end of this very nice, mojito-tasting afternoon, the Americans promised that they would read the books. We never tried the San Pedro cocaine, though. Not really our cup of tea.
Katja Malmborg 