A Dead Bat In Paraguay: One Man's Peculiar Journey Through South America
Roosh Vörek
Language: English
Pages: 290
ISBN: 1442136367
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A Dead Bat In Paraguay is a true adventure story about a 28-year-old man who decided that the best way he could deal with his existential crisis was to sell his possessions, quit his professional career as a scientist, and hop on a one-way flight to Quito, Ecuador in order to visit every country in South America.
stopped walking. I turned around and she looked like she was about to cry. My cotton jumper was useless against the night cold and I didn’t want to stop moving. It was mild during the day, but once the sun went down I jealousy stared at the heavy coats other gringos brought with them. When you live at sea level your entire life you don’t think about the huge effect altitude has on temperature. She had to know I was freezing. “If you don’t tell me what you are thinking, I’m going to leave!” she
scale of what humans can withstand and as an American raised with creature comforts, I was ill-prepared to learn how to “tough it out,” as Alex kept repeating. The next two days I saw teal and red lagoons, mountains with orange-sulfur covered peaks, gurgling hot springs, stunning cliff formations, ten thousand llamas, and a rock that formed into the shape of a tree, with a narrow base and bulbous head. You’d be hard-pressed to find a traveler who doesn’t gush about the Bolivian southwest, how
anywhere close in form I’m surprised more people didn’t die. Too many intoxicated people, not enough exits. The music was ear-splittingly loud, a combination of house music and cumbia, Argentina’s answer to salsa that was slower and heavier on the bass. Unlike America, Argentina is a house music obsessed culture. There will be no grinding on asses here. Before entering the club I told myself I needed to approach a lot of girls to end the cold streak. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for
with an evacuation that was my third worst in South America. I felt bad for the English girl sleeping just two feet away from the bathroom door, but there was nothing I could do. While camping out on the toilet I wished I had come to Argentina first. III In a couple days my stomach improved and I hit a club called Dorian Gray. It featured relatively famous DJ’s for its small dance floor, along with a closet of a side room playing American 80s and hip hop music. I went with a group of male
thought that the maids would be harder to root than other girls, but I guess there is a reason why those girls know English and work for meager pay in a place where there are always a bunch of exotic guys rolling through. I saw a large group of young girls and went in alone with a few words in English. All were seventeen or eighteen and celebrating a birthday. They took a liking to me and I felt very comfortable talking to them. Two of the girls in the group pulled me aside and asked if I wanted