Postcards from the edge

Postcards from the edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad



colombia stamp

We had been running through the jungle for almost 3 hours now. While on the move, the People of the Anaconda do not walk, nor do they rest, drink or eat… And they certainly don’t wait on you. Yet the three armed indigenous men escorting me had stopped. They were staring down at a fresh boot print in the mud. They looked troubled. The young Barra woman accompanying us bent down to take a closer look. A single, chilling word came out of her mouth: “guerrilla”. Suddenly, the jaguar tracks we had just passed were the least of my worries.


There are 4 comments.

  1. comment number 1 by: Alex B


  2. comment number 2 by: Alex Crook

    Holy shit! Your trips are insane… :O

  3. comment number 3 by: genevieve

    waouhhh!!!quel périble…
    je rentre d’Inde ou ce fut beaucoup plus calme.

  4. comment number 4 by: Navraj Ghataura

    Always enjoy your posts.

    Excellent stuff!

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