I wake up lying on my stomach with my left arm hanging off the side of the bed. I pull my face up out of the pillow, raise my hand up off the cold tile floor, and look at my watch. 10:00am. Five hours of sleep. It occurs to me that I'm still not sure if I'm in the right hostel. Ross emailed me the name and address yesterday before I left Sucre. When I arrived in Cochabamba at just before 5am this morning, I told the taxi driver the address. He seemed confused at first. "Eh....un hostal?" "Sí." I am, indeed, lying in a bed in a hostel. But now I am wondering if the driver, not sure of the address I gave, just dropped me off at any old hostel. And when I arrived,
... read more