The day before yesterday I took a close look at the map and for some reason I drove to Chile through the worst border crossing in all of Latin America, instead of taking the new road to the salt lakes of Bolivia.
At the border I mentally cursed dirty – the customs officers made me unload all the things from the car, which is six suitcases and ten bags, backpacks and bags. A specially trained dog took away all the apples and bananas (rhetorical question: why canned crocodile food can be smuggled, but honey cannot?).
Then I watched the news and realized what it was all about. Bolivia has a military coup and a change of power, I would have made it to La Paz (where all the fuck ups happened) just that day
Do you ever have it happen that decisions you don’t understand at first turn out to be the right ones as a result?