“Why don’t you sit next to me?” the middle-aged bus driver grinned as I hauled my rucksac onto the Huanchaco bus destined for Trujillo.
I looked at him. I looked at the deserted bus.
“Fine,” I agreed, climbing into the conductor’s seat.
There was no point arguing. I had to take this bus to the town centre, so I could grab a taxi to the main bus terminal.
I also assumed it would be quite difficult to kidnap me, considering the bus was old and slow and the door was permanently wedged open.
Exactly 100 compliments later, the driver finally stopped the bus.
“So I just get a taxi from here to the terminal?” I confirmed, reaching for my rucksac.
“Shhhh,” the man replied, looking slightly furtive as he helped me lift it.
“I’ve driven you to the terminal instead. I just thought it was safer to bring you out here because, you know, taxis can be dangerous…”