Pummeled

Day: 402

My sides felt like I spent last night in a boxing match, I was sure my kidneys were bleeding, my stomach was a cement mixer, and my mouth was dry and crusted with spittle, as I cracked my eyes after managing 2 hours of sleep. I glanced at my digital watch; 4:30am.  We were figuring on at least a few more hours on this bus into La Paz.  I opened my window, hung my head out, stuck my finger down my throat, and vomited out whatever was in my stomach just to make myself feel better.

The road had smoothed out slightly and now our driver was speeding excessively trying to make up for lost time for leaving late yesterday afternoon, I figure bus companies aren’t to gracious when it come to excuses such as drivers losing keys. 

I tried to close eyes and not think about how deranged my body felt.  It was unignorable though. I just sat in the undersized bus seat in sheer agony, imagining that this must be what Hell feels like.

Finally, as the sun came up La Paz started to come into view, and although we had reservations in Copacabana for tonight (another 4 hours away), Felicia decided we would be staying here for the time being, which I was excessively thankful for. I think she might have been a little worried for me. We jumped off the bus at the first stop, instead of waiting for the bus station which is closer to the hostals, paid a taxi $1, and sped away to the same place Felicia spent penned up and sick for a week in earlier this month.  They had a room, wonderfully, and I showered and spent the next 5 hours asleep.  When I awoke I realized I wasn’t in the mood to throw up, but there was an uncomfortable amount of pressure Downunder, if you know what I mean…

The Incan Gods then proceeded to have some revenge for the ravaging of this continent my European ancestors doled out.  Unfortunately in all landed on my gut, and although I don’t think I have ever felt this cleaned out I wouldn’t rate the experience as a beneficial one.