Bus is twenty-five minutes late, dusty gusts of wind and hot sun and heavy packs. Nun waiting next to me doesn’t seem bothered by any of it. Earlier there was a six-year-old futbol champion kicking a ball around next to us and giving me big toothless smiles every time he hit me in the leg, but he’s gone now. The last few days were beautiful, driving and hiking through red and pink and purple mountains, green river valleys, cacti and goats and llamas, eating lots of empanadas. Just said goodbye to Andrew and Vickie, who took the car back to Jujuy; we’re busing it and hoofing it from here on. Will write more later.
