Yes yes, one would not think this would happen again. Boy, was I wrong. Week 3 :-)
I step aside from the mototaxi, cross the street and as I want to go inside the restaurant (Elar's birthday), someone runs by and graps the belt of my bolso. Luckily I had it not only hanging loose on my shoulder but I was also holding on to it by hands. Nevertheless, the guy does not give up untill I fell down from the curve onto the street. I get up, see a jeans and white football shirt running and climbing onto a motocycle from a friend. I keep staring, not believing what has just happened.
No harm done, he did not get anything and I just have some scratches, BUT when I think about it is the idea that plants fear in my mind. And one moment I think: am I really going to travel alone for 5 weeks? I erase that thought quickly because fear cannot become a guidance on one's travel, right?! And after all, unfortunately this is common business in South America.
The camera, the passport, everything actually apart from some Peruvian soles are safely locked home in my room. And the waking eye becomes like the eye of Mordor ;-)
Beso!
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