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The Not-So-Lonesome Highway
What we found, however, was traffic. A constant flow on Route 15 South, even in the middle of the desert with its bleached skin and Joshua trees and spiky bursts of yucca. It was the kind of place that beckoned us to pull over and sit on the hot earth and listen to the wind. But if we'd pulled over it would have sounded like rush hour outside our Boston apartment.
I'm without the walkman today, and catching the bus with my friend Carol, a playwright, with whom I'm staying in LA. It is a sweaty, humid day, but on Hollywood Boulevard, outside a theatre advertising "Live Nude Show," "Peep Show" and "Adult Book Store," we encounter... a pile of snow. Where did it come from? This is Hollywood.
The High Road to Chuao
Because Chuao is supplied only from the sea, it is even less accessible to tourists and business interests than Choroní. People from Chuao still load their building materials, food, beer, even live cattle onto small boats at the malecón in Puerto Colombia for the trip, weighed down so their gunwales are just visible above the waterline.
William Reese Hamilton