Friday Feels Like: The Desert

It has been a week now since we arrived back home after six weeks in the desert. We ventured through the harsh and breath taking landscapes of Bolivia and Peru. It was the best adventure I have ever had.

Dusty Bolivia with it’s washed out coloured walls, rugged roads, no rules, cheap, dirty and a surprise around every corner, Catholic history inside cold churches and on the faces of the people, splashes of colour inside intricately woven textlies, the driest of landscapes, llamas with pretty coloured tags in their ears, women with two small children on the street corner begging for money, and the smell of conola oil cooking corn and freshly broken nuts.

Peru, packed with colonial white-wash buildings, cowboys lingering on street corners in their sturdy double-denim (wearing the type of jeans denim-geeks live for) and sheltering from the harsh sun under long lived-in suede hats, fresh juice, donkeys, palm trees, intoxicating music and too many pisco sours.