11.03.08 My first Bolivian hangover

Over the years I would say I’ve run the gamut of hangovers: the sucker punch that you thought you’d got away with; the guilt-laden, teary, soul-sapper; the nauseating, painful, sickener; the dreamy, floaty giggler; the detached, untouchable, isolator; the ratty, grumpy bastard… but nothing like this. Everything was in super-sharp relief, colours and sounds were acute, extraordinarily acute. And the area in and above my left eye, pain. Oh lord, pain!