The Gringo Trail [antikvár]

chapter one ecuador: mama negra in-flight entertainment Mark took his last seventy mushrooms on the plane from London to Quito. How they let him into Ecuador remains a mystery. He strode across the tarmac — for Mark always marched everywhere — towards the big shed that passed for an arrivals hall, dressed in a purple shell-suit, head and shoulders above all the Ecuadoreans and most of the tourists. His hair was a tangled mess. His pupils were wildly dilated. The veins on his arms and neck bulged. Melissa and I waited outside and watched him (it's a small airport) grinning maniacally at the customs officials and then grinning maniacally at the immigration officials. He couldn't have looked more conspicuous if he'd painted himself fluorescent pink and stuck a sign on his forehead saying 'Stoned'. They let Mark through. I guess Ecuadorean customs aren't really on the look-out for people bringing hallucinogenic drugs into South America. Anyway, Mark's were safely inside him by the time he got off the plane. His wild eyes and stupid grin could have been simply due to lack of oxygen, stepping off a plane from England into the second highest capital city in the world. It was a bad sign. *-k *** it ie *¦!(* i(-it * ¦{de ic *-k * ¦!( I ? .V ¦ ( . I •