Nine times more dangerous than the United States, Columbia is no place for the nervous traveller. So it is against his better judgement that, in the summer of 1998, journalist Stephen Smith finds himself boarding the Cocaine Train out of Cali, home of Columbia's infamous drugs cartel. The Cocaine Train is one of the last remnants of a once great railway system, and Smith is riding it in search of a grandfather he barely knew—Fred Leslie Frost, pioneering railwayman, upright citizen and diplomat, with a Columbian mistress and an illegitimate son.
“The railway broke down the isolation of a country which had lived largely in its principal cities, people drawn to them by the need to find work or escape the turmoil of the countryside. For many Colombians, the train was the first means of transport they had experienced which didn’t depend on the strength of their own limbs or their livestock. “
An incredibly stupid title, but really kind of excellent. Of course given that it's partially about the abandoned railways of Colombia (that the author's (British) grandfather basically built) it's right up my alley. Smith is uncommonly observant, has a good ear for metaphor and writes both drolly and with music.
You have to admit this is a pretty cool sentence:
"After a time, during which an embarrassed Federico tried unsuccessfully to start the Land Rover again, we abandoned it and set off on foot in two different directions, Federico and his son going back the way we'd come, to beg a set of wheel from a neighbour, and the rest of us hiking through the hot and ululating river basin towards the still distant farm, Cousin Louis talking unstoppably about humanism, and the spinster picking fruit off trees in an embittered way, and something in the undergrowth making a noise like a fax machine."
Great read especially if you like trains, colombia and all that goes with it. The author really hits some relevant points and not in a dramatic way. Also for a country that no longer has a railway it curious to travel around and see the old tracks where it used to be. This book is written on that colombian cusp. Somewhere between nostalgia, colonialism, and the growth of narco economics and politics.
An interesting tale about life in Colombia, post Escobar, but still endless killings and kidnappings. The story is about the author tracing the steps of his British grandfather who was responsible for much of the railway system in Colombia, which began to fall apart not long after the man departed for England.
hola primo como estas quicieramos volver a saber de ti y conocer tus hermanos e bregado a buscarte por facebook pero nada asta que encontre aqui tus libros espero te llegue este mensaje mi numero telefonico es 2523642 gracias stephen