Altiplano, Travels in the Bolivian Highlands
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The first thing I recognised when I stepped out of my hostel the next morning was my father’s description of the light. A fierce, white sunshine that cut every detail of the city into razor sharp relief. Beyond, the mountains looked beaten flat like giant billboards in its glare. I wondered if they would suddenly collapse in a strong wind, leaving nothing more than a tangle of scaffolding and dust.
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