Colombia: Santa Marta, Ciudad Perdida

From now on I have to follow a well thought out path of descent through South America. There is no room for backtracking or waste of money. Everything will have to be rapid and economical. I hate that. But it’s my own fault. I hate being tied to a date of return. I loved the freedom of not knowing. The liberty of no plan is tincture for my soul. It allows me to breath. The pressure is now on and I feel the party is over. I am at the end way too soon

27th Jan. I got into Santa Marta airport and a little bus took me into the centre of town. I met this man called Alonso, He showed me to the tour agency where I was to buy the trip to go to the Ciudad Perdida (The lost city). This is one of the main reasons tourists come here. He then shows me to the hostel, I want. It is owned by a relative, so he knows it well. I get to my dorm. It is probably one of the worst dorms I have had ot be in. The shower is within the dorm but just a plastic curtain barely hanging on the rail, another curtain barely obscuring anyone using the toilet. I won’t be using these facilities. Thank god there are others more private ones outside. I end up chatting to this lovely German boy. He is debating whether he goes to Central America to do a project he is interested in but also is near his ex girlfriend whom he wants to get back with or go on travelling south. It is a big debate but If eel he will go to the ex girlfriend even though she is now with someone else. He wants to tell her he loves her and that he should have let her know. But I advise as best I can and mostly I just listen. Later a girl(Miriam) comes in and I find out hat she has just been dumped by her boyfriend. God what a dorm of broken hearts but we chat and befriend each other and I her give her advice too. God I feel like a right agony aunt but I do enjoy these chats. I go to get food with the German and some Colombians who have come here for holiday.
Next day I talk to Miriam more and we hang out together. She is at a loss as to what to do so I say why not come to the lost city. It appeals to her and so we go and book. We bargain as hard as we can but it is still $125. Oh this is expensive. But it is something I have wanted to do all my trip. I have heard many great thigns about it.

Next morning, we arrive at the designated time. However we wait for ages. Alonso, comes by and chats to me. He is a real interesting chap. He shows tells me how he was an extra for 6 months in the movie “The Mission” with Robert Dinero. I have seen it but a long time ago it was huge in the 80s. He is very proud of this and shows me photographs of him and the cast and of course Dinero himself. Alonso says Deniro was lovely a real gentleman. Alonso played a missionary who is killed and had to do several takes at a time before the Directors approval. They spent 3 months in Santa Marta and another 3 months in Cartegena filming. The waterfall screen was apparently in Uruguay. IT is amazing here you are in this small town and you meet a person who has been in a Hollywood movie.

After 2 hours we finally find out that the truck had broken down. Hence the delay. Our truck is a cross between an old land rover and a bus. It has no glass. There are 13 of us. This causes some confusion as there is only supposed to be 12. They have forgotten me and lost my passport copy. 13 doesn’t bode well.
We bus along the highway for over an hour then we hit the entrance to the park where we are met by some very juvenile military. We have to show them all our bags and the list of our names and our passport numbers. Then we start motoring the worse road I have ever been on in my life. I have no idea how the driver does this every day. Miriam is at the window, probably the worst place to sit, so sees the whole thing. Sees how close we are top the sheer drops, with inches to spare for the wheel on the road. I don’t feel scared. I am not close to the window. However, lots of oh gods emanate from Miriam. Deep ruts mark the road. Some about a foot deep. The truck leans left, then right into the ruts. Sometimes as it hits nearly a 45 degree angle, I fear it will overturn, it leans that much.

I sat by the window for a while and I was ok but still, I held my breath when we go too close to the edge. It was hairy. Sometimes we have to get out as the road is too bad and we walk for a few minutes. At one point it was just the girls who were left in the truck We had to move from side to side to balance the truck as we moved painstakingly slowly up the path. At times the engine practically breathed fire as it skidded in the soft mud. We cold almost feel the breakpads burning and stunned they made it or indeed the engine. I should enquire the maker of the engine, because it certainly deserves an award.

And I thought my old jobs were stressful. This is coronary inducing. Hats off to the driver, a remarkable skilled man. Although I seriously doubt I will want to come down in this. An hour and a half later we are at the village, the start of the trek. We are fed a beautiful lunch and then we begin the 3 hour trek…UP.

Both Miriam and I were worried about our fitness. We are not fit. We figure we will be last so have agreed to keep each other company at the back of the group. However, although, we are not going at a very fast pace, we make it to the front relatively quickly and lead the trek for most of the way until dark. This is when my night sight hampers me and then I am last. The views up are wonderful. And the guides lay on freshly cut oranges for us at different break points or fruit juice. Wow this is luxury trekking. Although at times there was a struggle with walking when it got too steep and muddy. Miriam and I find it easier to be in front of the others as we set our own pace. We are neither held back or hold anyone back which is nice. When we are behind someone a lotl slower, we loose momentum and the will to carry on sometimes.

About 6 or we finally get to our first accommodation. The porters have arrived. Some of the group wash in the river. I try to have a shower. Needless to say it is cold. Oh it hurts. But I am clean at least. Dinner is wonderful and we get biscuits at the end. They give us hot mate de Coca which is tea made from just he fresh leaves of the coca plant. A gentleman arrives and offers to take us to a cocaine making factory. Hoever it is 30 pesos and so expensive so no one takes up the option. We find out that Hunter one of the group, fell and the only thing that saved him from a drop to the ground 20/30 feet or more below was that he had the wherewithal to grab a root that took his weight. He was so lucky.
Our sleeping accommodation is a hammock covered in mosquito net. But it is bed and I take to it gladly and sleep like a log.

The 2nd day of the trek we get up early. It is not as bad today more mixed ups and downs. Still the day is tough but we get to our destination after about 3 hours. Well Miriam and I do. Some of the others take quite a while longer. We get to swim in a river this time to cool down. As the sun is out, we sunbath on rocks on the rivers edge. It is delicious. WE have the place to ourselves for about 30 minutes. There is a very strong current in the river so we are warned where not to swim. But we get to jump off the rocks in to the cool water.

This time we get to sleep in beds. The porters again are preparing lunch and it again is delicions. Our group is a motley crew. WE have Emily, Carmen travelling together and who met Conrad a few stops ago all from London. Then Stephen from Chicago, whom the londoners met along the way too. They are a tight group of 4. Then there is the Swiss man and his Peruvian girlfriend. They are a lovely couple but I can’t remember their names. Then Ánne form Sweden. Camila from Bogotá originally but brought up mostly in Europe. First of all Amsterdam then London. She speaks fluent English and Dutch and god knows what else besides her native Spanish. She is an absolute doll. I gel with her instantly and we have a good laugh over the trek. Then there is the 3 Americans. Hunter is a hippy type but more in the vein of Jim Morrison. Then there is Frank and his friend. Both are more conservative but still ok. Although Frank and I get off on the wrong foot due to our very different attitudes to Cuba. He is of Cuban descent. We chat in different groups. Miriam who speaks very good Spanish chats with the Peruvian and Swiss. I chat more with Camila or the Londoners or sometimes Anne.
We meet other groups too that are doing the same trek as us.

The 3rd day again, we get up early, Breakfast includes eggs and hot chocolate and coffee. It is filling and good “marching food” as Conrad puts it. Miriam and I head off fairly quickly as we don’t want to be caught behind. We struggle at times as we are fighting a high altitude, our own tiredness and sometimes the steepness is vicious. Add to that, deep wet mud. It is not an easy trek. But we have sense of achievement at the end of it.

Today though, the guide John who lead us on the first day, again helps us today. He guides us to the crossings; we are to take across the river. He goes in Wellingtons and all and stands and holds each of us as we pass the rushing forceful flow of the river. He is not much taller or heavier than I, yet he is able to help us all. It is sometimes hard to keep ones balance and I nearly loose it at one stage. Lucky I have put my camera and those of a few others into my watertight bag. We have 7 or 9 river crossings. We loose count, so we cant get to far ahead of the group. So we wait for them to catch up. The last leg is the worst. Approximately 1018 steps to the top to the actual city itself. Oh god it was tough. And it starts raining to make it all the worse. I got to the city first. Well the first main platform. I took photos of the others coming up. They came laden with their rucksacks, head down, spirit withering with the sheer struggle of the steepness and sheer amount of steps. But we feel invigorated when we get to the top. We are there. We have done the worst of it. Although I begin to wonder where the city is, I await enlightenment.
We get to our camp. There are a lot of soldiers around apparently to protect the tourists from terrorists. Some years ago FARC, kidnapped some tourists and kept them for a few months. It is raining hard. So we dont bother exploring. We just chill, nap, read, chat.
The 4th day, Walter our lead guide, takes us around the city. The city is just platforms. There are one or town houses but these are the Indigenous houses and are lived in. We see some plants etc and he tells us about various rock sculptures and a map created by the Tayronas in the 11th-14th centuries. Much of the city has been reclaimed by the jungle and there is lush vegetation all round. It is beautiful, although, I was expecting a bit more from this lost city. I guess I am a bit disappointed. Still it has been an amazing trek and the group and guides have been fabulous.

We have a second night in the same accommodation.

Day 5, we are off early after breakfast. We have to do 4/5 hours down as we skip the 2nd accommodation. It is tough and muddy as it has rained quite a lot over the last few days. Well it is the rainy season. We are filthy at the end of it and have to wash off in the river. I don’t bother with the shower. Both are freezing so why not take the easy option.

Day 6. We think, as it is downhill, we will get it done in 2 hours. Ha the joke was on us. Due to the extreme muddiness it takes us a lot longer. A bit over 3 hours. WE at times nearly fall in the slippyness of the mud or sink into its mire. But eventually we get to the village. Where again they have prepared a lovely lunch, which we devour.

Then it is onto the truck. I really dont want tot get on. I know now what awaits. I get the chance when the truck stops to help another broken down vehickle, to walk for 30 minutes solo. Miriam walks with me but eventually gives up. I am by the window but this time I am not so calm. When the truck stopped, It gave some of its screws to another truck S far as I can see one of the wheels just has one nut holding it to the truck. This makes me nervous, as I sense the driver is too. I have confidence in him but no longer in our truck. Especially, when he sends the guide out every 20 minutes to check and tighten the screw on the wheel. But eventually we make it to the entrance intact, where the military await to check us again. It is a cursory check and we are off back to Santa Marta along a nice tarmaced road. Phew.
We day our goodbyes to all the others, as each is going to a separate place. Miriam and I go back to the shoddy dorm. We wash and go for food. Later we meet the Peruvian and Swiss and have a few juices etc with them in a nearby café .
Miriam and I are quite proud of ourselves. We thought we would be so unfit but we did well. It has been great for her confidence and mine too.
Next day we head to

04 Feb
We head to Bogota together Miriam and I. Then we part. She goes to her friends and I go to a hostel in the old quarter.

Costa Rica, costa costa

21 Jan. hadnt realised I had used so much money so had to go to a bank. This delayed me setting off. I was not able to get a direct bus to Costa Rica, so was taking a lot of local buses. I got a bus to Rivas after an hour, then a taxi to the border really rapidly, which made up time. I was through the border crossing by 10.30 am. I was doing well. However, that´s when it all went wrong. I was in a puddle of people for about 30 minutes before I realised they all had a ticket for the next bus to San Jose (Capital of Costa Rica). It was so not obvious. I then found the ticket office after a few false starts. The queue was not even moving and the buses filled up with the leftovers from earlier. It was a nightmare.

I eventually took a bus to a city to a town in between in the vain hope that there might be another bus to San Jose from there. However when I got there the next bus was cancelled and I would have to wait a few hours. It would not have been so bad if I was not meeting another friend in San Jose at 3pm. I really thought I would be through the border by then. God I was so wrong. I didnt have any number to ring David to let him know I would be late. I had forgotten to take the number of the hostel from Matt the night before.

Anyway I got to San Jose eventually. Another dodgy city with an even dodgier bus station. I was nervous but I was dropped off at a private terminal and got a lady taxi driver to the hostel.
As if the day hadn´t been bad enough, the hostel knew nothing of David AND their internet was down. However, then it came up and I was able to see that David had booked into a hostel down the road and had tried the hostel we had agreed on but it was booked according to the website.

The owners of the hostel were surprised at this and realised there was a problem so it helped them to know this, so they could fix it and 2 of them kindly walked me to the other hostel. David was there and had been worried as I was supposed to have been there hours ago. I felt bad. But we chatted for hours, as to what to do and finally settled on going to the beach and to get the 6am bus. Oh that was going to hurt, as we then realised the time it was 1.30am. We retired to the dormitory.

22Jan

At 5 we were off and got the bus to Puerto Viejo de Talamanca. God were so glad we did. We arrived at 10am to glorious sunshine and walked along the coastal path, looking for accomadation. Even though it had not been the plan, we ended up at the party hostel. Johnnys. Well it was cool. They have tents instead of rooms. Not very cheap but it sufficed. We went to get some food, as we were ravenous. Had a nice sandwich amd fresh juice.

We then went off exploring the beach. It was pretty. We walked for miles. We even found some fresh coconuts and David cracked them open with his knife. The beach was miles long. Each corner seemed to provide some lovely vistas or beautiful trees, plants etc. Just beautiful long stretches of beach, as far as the eye could see. A good antedote to all my bus travelling.

That night we went around town and had a local coctail in one of the bars. It is a very laid back place. A carribiean vibe permeates. Although it was not the cheapest place it was lovely.

23Jan
We rented some snorkelling gear and headed to one of calmer areas. We stopped off at the supermarkets and bought some goodies for a picnic. We hunted for some more fresh green coconuts and after we had demolished the contents, we used the coconuts to mix a salsa of onions, tomatoes and coriander. Oh my god it was soooo good. One of the best picnics I have had. We tried snorkelling but the sea was too rough for much. Still we got to see a few things.

That night we cooked some fresh fish we had bought and some more fresh salsa. Had a really nice dinner. Sleep was hard to come by though, as there was a lot of noise and then torrential rain started. Pretty cool though.

24Jan

On Sunday walking along the beach, I saw this lady talking fotos so being curious, I looked to see of what. About 10 or so rather large birds were standing on the beach with their wings outstretched, drying them in the warm morning sun. It was an amazing sight.

We, had another lovely breakfast of Bagels, cream cheese, and juice. And of course a coffee to feed Davids addiction. Then it was off on the bus back to San Jose, Goodbyes to David who had to go back to his massage course in Heridia and I went back to the hostel. A bit of an anti-climax after a nice weekend at the beach. Also it was probably the last time I would meet someone from Xela again. I was now not planning to meet anyone for the rest of my trip which kind of left a gap after being so long with people I had come to know. In kinda felt a bit empty.

25Jan
Monday day I hunted San Jose, for boots. Finally found a pair after lunch which gave me a few hours to explore the tourist sites. I saw the main plazas and walked around the center of the city. It has a few nice parts but not a city I could spend a lot of time in. I had really wanted to see the Jade musuem but it was closed. Got a taxi back to the hostel.

26Jan

Tuesday early I was off on the flight via Panama again... to Santa Marta, Colombia.

Antigua, Goodbyes, dissapointment & reaquainting with friends and Nicaragua

17Jan
I arrived in aitigua and got a hostel fairly quickly. I wandered around town. At first it struck me how many tourists and most especially tour buses are here, compared to other places I have been. I found it distasteful. However walking around I escaped the hoards and found rather a beautiful city, well restored and maintained. I looked for hiking boots, none to be found.

I found a cheap place for tacos and all was well. I met this Guatemalan who had lived in America for some time but had now come back to Antigua. He was a tour guide and told me that the lava at the volcano I wanted to go to, had stopped flowing 3 days earlier and the flow had moved to a further location. He did recommend some places to find boots though.

18Jan Next day, I took the early bus to Guatemala city. Had to get a rather expensive taxi to a shopping mall but no go. After searching a few malls and the area in Guatemala centre, I gave up and tried to do a few tourist things. There wasnt a lot to see in Guatemala city but it wasnt as ferocious as many people had indicated. But the museums cost a fortune and as I didnt have much time I skipped them. Then it was the bus back to Antigua.

19Jan I wandered around town looking for a tour to take me up the volcano and a bus to take me to Nicaragua. There were conflicting stories about possible buses. Anyway, I found a bus and a tour company.

That afternoon I waited for the bus to take me to Pacaya Volcano and hopefully some lava. It took a few hours to get to the spot where we started to climb. The views were pretty spectacular and the path to the volcano was over previous lava flows that had now cooled to a brittle black. Some of it warm.

Our guide threw some leaves into a crack in the lava with a little steam coming from it. We could see and hear the leaves crackling and eventually they went on fire with the heat from the lava underneath. Some people even had marshmallows to roast over some of the hotter cracks. I could feel my soles softening with the heat. So we wandered around aimlessly. The guide didnt try very hard to do anything and we were not walking to anywhere else in search of flowing lava. I was gutted. I asked the guide about it moving but he claimed to know nothing and was completely disinterested. It was somewhat a of a waste of money and I would have skipped Antigua if I had known the lava had stopped. Balls.

Anyway later I went to a nice restaurant, owned by a piano playing El Salvadorean and had a wonderful vegetarian Thai Curry. Ah bliss. He was a chatty owner and liked the fact I was Irish. He studied and lived in England for some years and had some Irish friends there. He liked the accent. Later he was asking me how long I was around. The way he was asking, I was not sure if he was going to offer me a job or ask me out. Anyway I was leaving the next day so it was a mute point. I went to bed early as I had to be up for 2am.

20Jan. At 2.45am I was in a taxi on the way to the bus to Nicaragua. At 5am I was in the bus. I was saying goodbye to Guatemala.

It was a long day and traffic was not good, so arrived in Managua, the capital of Nicaragua at 7,30. It was late! I missed the collectivos so had to take a taxi to the bus station. A place you are advised not go to after dark. I had no choice. Luckily the taxi brought me to the bus I needed but it was not leaving for over an hour.

I chatted to the driver for a while but it was a long hour and a half. 2 other passengers came in and engaged the driver in a chat as well. I saw this guy come in selling orange juice, then he came again about 10 minutes later. It was odd, then I heard the others on the bus say he was a bad man. Then the converstation changed and turned to this robbery where some guy had a machete held to him and had his rucksack taken from him. They all looked at me and decided it was better if my rucksack was on the ground out of sight. Great!. I slunk down even further into the seat, I occupied, to obcure myself from view and wished we were on our way. But then we were off and all was good until I got to Grenada station. Deserted. I was the only passenger left. I ran to a taxi outside but the driver was absent. But I figured it was safer to stand next to it so people would think I was getting into it. However, when I tried to flag down other taxis they wouldnt stop as they thougth I had a taxi. Oh fab! So I had to move and eventually, a taxi stopped and took me to the hotel where a friend Matt from Xela was staying. Matt was no where to be found. It was 10pm. I was chatting to my new roomates though and then Matt came in. He was glad to see I had arrived safely. We arranged to meet tomorrow evening, as he was off on one of his hikes the next day.

I met some interesting people in the hostel and talked about all sorts of things from reincarnation to previous relationships. It was that wide a conversation spectrum. By the time Matt had rested after his hike, there wasnt many restaurants to choose from but we found one and then went for delicious icecreams after. Matt brought me to a bar/club he had found and funnily it was one of the few I had been to the first time I was here.

I said my goodbyes as I was off early.

December in Xela

One of my objectives of staying in Xela was to improve my Spanish. So I spent a few weeks going to different places like cafes, the library around Xela or stayed in the hostel studying. I feel I am getting to grips with my verbs but any break at all and it is forgotten again. Still I was progressing albeit very slowly. I also gave a few English lessons to some of the staff too.

Over the weeks, I became especially friends with a good group, Bill, Kaliegh, Matt, Ashley. We often cooked dinners together and shared cooking tips and ideas. It was great fun. The conversations that we had in the hostel often left us in stiches. Some people came back for a few days, like Gina, Chris, Michelle, then dissapeared again. Lori came back for good.

We often did shopping together in the markets around Xela. Our favourite and the biggest being La Democracia. It was a huge, mostly outdoor market, where various vendors, usually Mayan sold vegetables, fruit and everything else besides. I loved going to the market. Although sometimes I got tired of always getting a price different i.e. higher, than the locals. So that meant bargaining for your food. Still the food was always fresh and I got to taste a lot of local foodstuffs.

Ashley had learned to cook Tomales, this is a dough mixture made with cornflour and herbs and what ever else you want to add. She taught me and from then on I made batches every few days to eat for breakfast. I really enjoyed making them and cooking with the others. I decided to make my own type of tomales, by adding sweet corn, bacon, chillies, peas etc. They were delicious even if I do say so myself. Especially with hot chilli sauce. Oh I can taste them now hmmmmm. I used have at least 2 each morning hot from the microwave.

I kept at the salsa for quite a while. What I liked about learning salsa with Matt was we had a laugh and we encouraged each other. If one of us didn’t pick up what the salsa teacher (Luis) said, the other did. Well sometimes... We both took little bits of what Luis said and when we tried dancing, we put the 2 of our memories together. We often got it completely wrong but we laughed with no recriminations or criticisms. We were both there to learn to salsa and nothing else. If we couldn’t do it, we asked Luis or one of the others. I had several partners and it was interesting to see the personalities come out in the dance. I had danced with some local boys in the class. They were often late teens or early 20s. They were just so bored dancing with me and it was made so obvious they would rather be with the young blond gringa over on the other side of the room.

After Matt left, I was often left dancing by myself as the teacher seemed preoccupied with an upcoming competition and class became boring, so I didn’t go to as many. A shame but I wasn’t learning anything anymore. There are only so many times you can go over the steps by yourself and looking at myself in the mirror like some of others did was just not me.

In early December, we all went to the usual Friday night place. Matt came along for a change, as it was his last few days in Xela. Normally he used to study or go hiking. A friend of his arrived called Lari and he introduced us. We hit it off immediately. We found to our delight, that we were both the same age, had left longterm relationships in the last few years and were feeling very similar things about travelling at our age. We had loads of similar attitudes. We also both wanted to have it all, enjoy life and take as much fun out of it as possible. We swapped email addresses and agreed to meet asap. Within a few days, we had our first get together and after that we met at least once a week. Normally just the two of us, to have a girlie chat and swap gossip. I was so delighted to have found her. I hope we can be friends for a long time.

I was falling in love with Xela. The hostel was great as so many cool people booked in and stayed for a few weeks or even months. I had a few really good friends. The talk was challenging and entertaining. I was learning salsa and Spanish. I was liking it so much that I decided to take on paid work to fund a longer stay.
I applied for an English teaching job. I was immediately accepted. I started 3 days later in the "The Best English School". Yes that was it´s name. I had the most lovely bosses. Ileana and her mother, Maria Luz. I was paid 13Q an hour, about 2 dollars but it paid most of my rent.

Life became settled. I hung out with Lari or Ashley in various cafes or bars around town or most often stayed in the hostel and cooked, ate talked with whoever was around. We fell in to the routine of going to La Parranda (another salsa club) on a Wednesday night, La Rumba on a Friday night and Ojala on a Saturday night or the movies depending on the moods. I worked for 4 or 5 hours in the morning teaching English to a great bunch of students. I either had a class with one or 2 people. My students were usually in their early twenties and were often great fun. Sometimes it so didnt feel like work. I could so easily stay here for the long term. I dont know what it is but if you stay longer than 5 days in Xela, you want to stay a LOT longer. It happened to so many people I met. It is warm in the days, and cold in the nights. So it feels alot like home in some respects. Cork that is.

During December, Ashley has become friendly with this guy called Jason. He is a guitarist and has got some gigs at some of the bars around town. One of which was El Cuartitos. One, we like very much and an other is a real local bar called Cafe Classico. We have been to a few of the gigs and they were great. He has a friend called Gordon from Scotland, and we hit it off immediately both being celts. Also Jason has made friends with several people who live permantly in Xela either local or Mexicanos that have moved here. The most notable being the Mex (the owner of the most famous salsa club and my favourite in Xela). He is quite the personality, a rather larger than life kind of guy. And his sidekick Giopete,. wo always makes me laugh, He puts the moves on people but it is always in jest. He is so sweet.

I started to become more friendly with Ashley in early December, as we were 2 of the few non Americans. We also had a similar sense of humour, which helped a lot. also as people were leaving we had less to hang out with.

06Dec

We went to San Francisco del Alto. A village up in the hills that has a famous Friday market. Michelle, Ashley and I made there in the early morning. Michelle wanted to buy some stuff to take home. There was the usual array of food etc. But htis town was also famous for its textiles. There were some beautiful cloths, hand woven and machine produced. The colours were wonderful. Michelle got some nice material. I didnt buy anything as now I have no room in m y bag and I cant afford to send it home at the costs here.

07Dec

With my brand new boots I got in Mexico, I was finally able to go for a hike.

One of the girls (Julia(Swiss/American)), was an avid hiker. She had been volunteering in a clinic for the last 3 months. A really delightful girl. She had hiked an number opf treks and wanted to do one last oen she had not done before she left to go home for Christmas. It was the Fuentes Georgina trek. IT was a 8-10 hour hike throuwh lush mountainside and forest. At the hend of the trail ws the famous Fuentes Georgina hot springs. A great way to end a tough hike.

We got up at about 5am. Were on a bus by 5.30 and at the start of the trek, just as dawn was breaking giving us a good overview of the towns below us.
It was a tough hike but not too bad. Most of it alternating between climbing/descending with bits of flat. We went with Quetzeltrekkers, an agency set up as a charity. All proceeds went to school kids, that could not afford it and the associated orphanage. It was a beautiful day and our 2 guides, provided excellent vegetarian food that satisfied our hunger. We were more or less well matched in walking speed. Although Julia was the best, with Megan a close second, surprising herself. I tailed in around the middle with Mary. Lori beign the shortest was a little more behind.
The views were spectacular. We saw several of the volcanoes in the surrounding countryside. It was breathtaking.. It was also exhausting. It took us 9 hours with a few short breaks and a longer one for lunch, but it was so worth it. Matt had done the bus and a shorter walk and was posing spectacularly, on a rather large rock, within one of the steaming pools in his swim shorts, in relatively plain view, as we descended the last path into the springs. We had to laugh, that was so him. It was so good though to get into the water and soak our aching limbs. Sheer bliss. Although we had to go in with trepidation, staring with our toes, to the main pool as it was boiling. It took about 20 minutes for us to immerse ourselves.
We spent a few hours there alternating between the different temperatures of the pools. But then it was time to go and we all heaped into the back of the open air pickup and covered ourselves with sleeping bags to ward off the chill of the cold air during the 2 hour journey back to Xela. Then it was dinner and bed.

However, over December, we lost various people who had become part of the Don Diego family. They were either heading home to America, or heading on to other countries. It was sad to loose people. Andrew, Matt, Megan, Gina, Chris, Julia, Angela, Noa, Michelle, Bill, Kaliegh many of which had become good friends and left a major gap in the hostel by their absence. However, this gave us a great excuse to have great big communal going away dinners. These were wonderful occasions to mix, laugh, converse often in both Spanish and English as the staff joined us or Marco, a Guatemala student who was studing in Xela.

By Christmas, there was so few of us left and only new guests sporadically filtered in but not in numbers. Of the old gang it was just , Lori, Ashley and I.

As Gordon was leaving with his friend to go to the Lake, we had a dinner party in his house. Bill, Kaliegh, Ashley and I cooked. It was a resounding success. A really great night. We ended up with about 12 people in the end, as the Mex brought some of his pals. Later we hit La Paranda. It was Wednesday after all.

Near Christmas, some of us went to La Democracia to take fotos of the Christmas stalls there. It was heaving. There were 2 or 3 times the normal number of stalls present. There were many vendors selling pine needles, and various other items for cribs. Even selling the cribs themselves or the nativity statures to go into them. The smell of the pine was wonderful and many shops spread it on their doorsteps to attract customers.

The cathedral had a lovely nativity scene. They had built a mini Bethlehem. The church looked beautiful. Over December, there were many religious processions through the town. Beautiful candlelit parades of devotees.

Just 2weeks before Christmas, we had a few interesting people arrive, one of whom was Joshua again from the US, who quickly became part of the clan. He was a good laugh with an alternative way of thinking and prepared to express it, an interesting chap.
Then a week before Christmas, another guy David from San Francisco, A friend of Mary’s, another girl that used be in the hostel. I had met him once, a few weeks before. And Klaus from Germany became a resident.

23December
Originally, Ashley and I were going to go to the Lake for Christmas. However, Ashley came down with a rather bad flu/bug. We left it till the day before Christmas eve to decide but she was still unwell. As David and Klaus were also around we all decided to cook Christmas dinner together. The 4 of us sat down and thought out what we wanted food wise for the next few days and especially Christmas day. We each had slightly different ideas of Christmas, still we were able to settle on things. We found that Ashley, David and I all had a thing about cooking and food and all were Taurean. A bizarre coincidence.

As Ashley was poorly, Klaus, David and I went to La Democracia. David and I only had to say a word or 2 to know what each other meant about what to buy or where to go for it. We were so on the same wavelength about food. If we couldn’t find something we wanted then we bounced ideas around and the creativity just flowed. It was fun.
When we got back we took photos of the 4 of us around our purchases. The 4 of us were really excited about Christmas. Later that evening, Joshua popped in and we all went out to see what the locals did on Christmas eve and to find maybe a bar. We wandered around the central square and the market. People were buying stuff and stalls were open. Lari had invited me and who ever I wanted to her apartment for drinks and to look at the fireworks from her roof terrace. However when we got there she had gone for a walk. We stayed around for an hour or so but then Ashley was not feeling so good so we left. David and I were hoping to see what Midnight mass was like but apparently it was over at 9 or 10pm. That was such a shame.

We dropped Ashley off about 11.30pm at the hostel. The city was like a battle field. The noise was deafening, as local left off fire crackers and fireworks at most houses Joshua, David and I then ran the gauntlet along the streets dodging between different houses, taking our chances as one set of fireworks stopped and before they lit another. I felt I was in World War 2. It was fun and exciting. We ran around the streets, then Joshua had the bright idea of going to La Democracia. I was so up for it so was running ahead with them trailing rapidly behind me. It was so nice to have someone who liked just going with it and seeing what was happening with enthusiasm. I am so fed up with people who hum and hah or are afraid and then u loose the opportunity or I loose my enthusiasm. But the boys were up for anything. We were like a bunch of school kids. In La Democracia it looked like the market had just ended as the vendors were still packing up. I couldn’t believe they were still selling at 11.30/midniught. We missed most of the fireworks but there were still a few people letting some off. We even found a vendor still selling, so bought a set of firecrackers. We divvied them between us and set light. We had such a giggle. Infantile as it was, it made our night.

We were a little hungry so sat at this little stall and had hot chocolate, David and I shared a meal. As it was a meat dish, Joshua being Jewish didn’t have food. There was no doubt or anything expressed about the food. We just ate and enjoyed. Having been with a few in the hostel who were so concerned about hygiene and bugs, it was such a pleasant relief to find people who just ate/drank without worrying if the salad had been washed with disinfectant or if the water had been purified.

None of us were up for going home so we toddled off to the only open place in town. La Rumba salsa club. It was a bit bizarre. There were about 20 people and most were gringos. Most locals were celebrating Christmas with their families as –Christmas eve is the big dinner celebration not Christmas day, as in many parts of the west. We were up for dancing and went on the dance floor but were so caught up in our conversations; we never did get around to dancing. About 3am we thought maybe it was time to go to sleep.

Thur 25 Dec. Christmas day: Ashley and David had breakfast ready. Ashley had started on her homemade Baileys. It was really good especially added to coffee. We had French toast with blackberries freshly heated and a dollop of cream. Ashley, David and I wandered into town and bumped into Joshua. It was bizarre, most things were closed and yet there were a few restaurants open and people walking around and it was a glorious sunny day. We took a few photos and then felt it was time for a cafe visit. We went to one of the posh places in town and had a really nice coffee and such a laugh. I love the dynamic between the 4 of us. There seems such an energy.

It was time to cook Christmas dinner. We had no oven, so we used Klaus’s idea to coat the chicken in mustard, pepper and salt, then fry it. We had gorgeous fresh vegetables cooked in various ways. We had gone all out and bought a bottle of wine. We also mulled some wine, it was tasting a bit off until David remembered to put some sugar in it. We used this to cook some pears with a dollop of cream which tasted sensational. All in all we had a delicious international meal with very good company. A wonderful Christmas day.

That evening Joshua came by. I had bought some cigars in Cuba so brought them out. Most of us didn’t smoke so it was difficult to keep them alight but we entertained ourselves by talking, taking silly photos with the cigar and Matt’s suede coat. We finished off the homemade baileys, which did taste like. Not a bad way to spend a Christmas day.

Fri26
Ashley felt able to go to the lake and so we got the San Pedro bus. A few hours later we were in San Pedro and led to the San Francisco hotel. A very basic pension but... We went to explore and to find ole Gordon. We found the Buddha bar. Oh my god they had Thai curry. We were in food heaven. Then we went in search of the Scotsman. We asked at a few places and finally found Gordon’s friends bar. Barry his friend was there but Gordon wasnt. We went back to our room, showered and then met the Scots for a drink. We all went home early.

Saturday 27th.
We got up pretty early and found this delightful cafe to breakfast in. we then got a lancha to San Marcus. We thought we might bump into Hele whom we had met in the hostel and was now on a 3 month meditation course here. The village was nice but the restaurants were prohibitively expensive and internet was 12q an hour. Scandalous, considering I only pay 2.50/3Q in Xela. We made a relatively quick exit, after an hour of wandering. Took another lancha past some of the richest real estate in Guatemala. So many amazing houses have been built along the lake here. However, the water levels are rising and reclaiming some of the luxuriously planned gardens of the lower constructions. We got to Panajachel. This was the first backpacker place. You can tell immediately once in the main strip. Stall after stall of backpacking paraphernalia: sarongs, clothes, pipes. You name it, its there. but bizarrely I like it. There is no pretence. It is what it is, a backpacker hangout and not trying to be anything else. We ate, it was small and expensive. Not the best choice. We wanted to shop but lost the will. However, we did buy the most fabulous cheesecake ever, which was sooo delicious. Another lancha and we were back in San Pedro. There is something really cool about zipping along open water in a motor boat.

Sunday 28
Ashley and I got up early and got Ashley settled in her new quarters which had a brilliant view of the lake. We went to the bus stop only to be told that there were no buses on Sunday. That threw a spanner in the works. So that meant a trip on the lancha to Pana. And of course more money. I am trying to cut my costs but things seem to conspire against me. I got a bus for Los Encuentros and then got on what I thought was the bus for Xela of course it wasn’t. I then had to get another and of course that wasn’t for the terminal either he had completely lied to me. It took far longer to get home than I had thought and the lies etc. made me unreasonably agitated. Normally this washes over me but sometimes it just gets to me. I guess I was tired and hungry too, never a good mix. David was there when I got in and had prepared some food, he had even taken into consideration my wheat problems and had bought tamales. It was a feast of roasted peppers and beautifully carmelised onions among other things. It was such a nice gesture. Then we met Klaus at the Baja luna. I had wanted to go there forever since I first came to Xela so it was really nice to finally see it. Klaus and David had bonded over chess, while Ashley and I were away. Later Joshua came.

Monday 29Dec.
I went to class and came back to find Pablo had returned. I had not recognized him when I entered the dorm. I only recognized his earring. So asked Hilda was it he. It was and he was drunk. I checked the drinks we had left behind after Christmas and yea it was fairly depleted. I hate that thieving side of him.
I went off to meet Lari and we caught up on Christmas. It was really good to see her.

Tue30Dec
I started to pack my stuff. Oh boy I realized I didn’t have my hiking boots. I had never brought them into the dorm when I changed rooms. But I knew they were not in the other room either as I would have brought them with me. Someone had stolen my new boots. I was devastated. It had been such an effort to get them. It was also bloody expensive. All my anger at being stolen from just came back. I hated Xela at that moment. So many bad things had happened. I just wanted to leave and never come back. I had good times but right now the bad were far outweighing the good. I had lost soooo much money by coming here. It was ruining my whole trip. And how to replace those boots? Their had only been one pair in the whole of Mexico city. Nothing in Xela. I didn’t have much hope of replacing them. This meant that I would not be able to go hiking here and not see Santaguita. I just couldn’t shake the anger. I was storming around the hostel. My first thought was Melvin took them so I was angry at the staff. Then I remembered there was this strange guy who checked in Christmas Eve and left Christmas day. We had all got a weird vibe from him. But I could not be sure it was not the staff. They were so blasé about it, which infuriated me more. Pablo kept saying tranquillo. I was in no mood to calm down. I was just so furious. How the hell was I going to replace them.
I went to class.
Classes were fine and I came back slightly calmer but not much. I packed everything in my rucksack that could be stolen, locked it and put it into the laundry room I hoped it would be safe.
I finally left the hostel at 2.30. Buses were slow but I finally got to Esquintla at 7.30. The 3 of us joked and chatted for a while, shared a melon and finally slept. Well tried to. The noise from the street was phenomenal, so sleep was difficult.

Wed 31 Dec.
We got up about 6.30am. I had to get cash so that took sometime. Still by 9 we were in this little town so we could get the bus to Izcara for boat to Monterrico. This gent comes up to us and offers a taxi for 60Q, we said no but when we got to the bus and realized it cost 15Q each and didn’t look like it was going to go anytime soon David and I ran back to look for him. On the way, we bought some fireworks.

The driver drove us to the bus, picked up Ashley and another passenger called Onan from Guatemala city. He was a jewelry seller and seemed a really cool guy. It is just the best feeling, bombing along in the back of a pickup with the cool wind in our hair. So much better than a stuffy slow bus.
30 minutes later we were on a small motor boat zooming along the canal amid mangroves forests, to Monterrico. The entrance to Monterrico was idealic. We started to hunt for accommodation but everything was sooo expensive. Two kids showed us this place at the start but we thought we could get better, so we left David with the bags, and Onan, who had already ordered a beer and it was only 10am.

Walking along Ashley and I commented that it looked we would end up in the first place the kids showed, us. We did. Ashley, David and I shared this slightly dilapidated room but it was ok and it had a private shower and toilet, although no sink. It was funny to have it missing but we managed. Monterrico was beautiful, chilled and exactly what I would have wished for.

We met Jenny in the main pack packer hostel (Johnny’s). She had stayed in Don Diego’s for a while. She recommended the liquados in Johnny’s and the food in Calle Real. So we breakfasted in Calle Real, talked again for ages and then swam. The waves were pretty full on but we had a great time running from them. Trying to surf them and trying to avoid being dumped into the sand. We tested the liquados (Smoothies) at Johnny’s. Oh my god THEY were that GOOD.

That evening, we ended up in “El Animal Desconido”( The unknown animal). The main bar in town, facing the beach. We met Francisco, who used to work in Don Diego’s and then Jenny came along. We all went on the beach to try out our fireworks and sparklers. David really wanted to build a large “bomb” so we went in search of more powerful fireworks which we found and a plastic bottle to put them in. So we ran down the beach far away from everyone, lit it and ran for our lives. It left a bang. It was such a hoot. Some of the fireworks failed to work but the ones that did, amused us all because they were our own. Around midnight we were all taking photos and saying happy New Year on the beach.
We all went back to the bar bumped into Onan. He had been selling his jewelry on the beach, just outside of the bar. He was offering to sell some of his rings for beer and it looked like he had sold a lot, as he was a bit the worse for wear.

Thur 01Jan
We got up late Ashley and I about 8.30/90. 2 hours sleep. David went off somewhere for his habitual coffee fix. We spent the day lounging around on the beach and in hammocks and having licuados and arranged a tour of the river.

Friday 02Jan. Some of the guests created the utmost racket, playing the radio of their car at full blast just below our room, drinking themselves into a stupor. Ashley seemed to sleep through it.
David and I wanted to kill them we were coming up with all sorts of revenge plans.

We got up at 4.50am, Met Edgar our tour guide and walked to the pier. There were 10 of us. So Ashley, David and I were put on this boat with plastic chairs as seats. We felt so sophisticated. So colonial, Dahling! Took a few silly photos and enjoyed the relative silence. Bliss after the night we had.
Moving along in our pole powered lancha, we could be in Venice, if only we had someone to sing O Solo Mia. As we were early enough, we saw flocks of various birds off to their dawn fest. We even saw some 4 eyed fish skimming the surface and jumping around. The morning light was stunning and the water was often like a mirror which offered some beautiful shots. We had a wonderful 2 hours. We returned to the hostel and took a few more silly shots on the way and then to Calle Real for Breakfast. We noticed that the young waitress has taken a bit of a liking to David. It seems that a lot of Guatemalan women quite like him. He even gets whistled at sometimes in Xela.

We went to Johnnies for liquados so we could sleep in the hammocks. We got a few hours kip which felt good.

Afterwards we swam. The waves were more forceful than normal. The amount of times I got pummeled by the wave, I even did a summersault underwater. Unfortunately Ashley was so battered, by one wave that her tendons were strained and caused her a lot of pain.

Later we met Onan. He was still swigging back beer and it was only early afternoon. However, when he found out that Ashley’s knee was bad. He massaged it and seemed to know what he was doing. Impressive!

We decided to dine at a different restaurant as we felt we weren’t really exploring Monterricos culinary delights. Bad move. It was crap we have decided to not branch out anymore and just stick with Calle Real. Jenny, and her friends were there. Later we went to the cantina next door. It was fun.

David went back with Ashley to the room. I went with Jenny to El Animal. I was in the mood to be out. David came back to look for ice for Ashley’s knee. I asked one of Jenny’s friends who was working behind the bar, for some ice. I went back with him to see if she was alright and to see if I could find ibuprophen for the inflammation but no go. I went back to the bar chatted with Jenny. We danced but within seconds we were approached by various pairs of men. We went into a corner. We then left about 12.30am. Sleep came quick but didn’t last long. Some idiots insisted on talking rather loudly all night. Another sleepless night.

Saturday 03Jan Ashley was still limping. But her leg had made a remarkable improvement. We are convinced that Onan really did the trick. Although she did take 2 ibuprophen as well. We took breakfast in the Calle real for a change not. We wandered around looking at clothes and taking silly photos again. Then went to the beach, napped. We went to the really posh roof bar for a sundowner and the 3 of us sat and watched our last sunset together and in Monterrico. We went off to get some food in Calle Real, we didn’t bother changing. It was going to be an early night, as we had an early start. We then went off to Johnny’s to have our last liquado.

Sunday 04Jan. We got the 5am bus. It was hard getting up but at least it was not cold. We arrived quickly at Escuintla. Said good bye to David as he was off to Guatemala city then Costa Rica a few days later for his course. Ashley and I found our way to the other terminal and were home in Xela by 11.30am. Unreal. We went for lunch in the restaurant under the Mercado. Mon

05Jan I chickened out of telling Ileana i was leaving. I was just toooooooo tired to do so.

Tues 06 Jan I told Ileana that I may be leaving. Thought I would break it gently. It was hard but it worked out as she has a few teachers just starting who can take over. One of which is called Brett and he will take over my classes.

Wed 07 Jan I told Ileana that I was definitely leaving. She was so cool about it. She really is such a lovely person. We were expecting Francisco to come up today, but no show. Ashley, Zoe a really cool English girl who had arrived at the hostel a few days ago and a few others including Pablo went to "La Parranda". It was dead at first then picked up. Lari later came and The Mex was moving on her, big time. He told her she was his. Oh I had to laugh. She asked to be rescued but I figure she could handle herself.

Thur08JAN. -I said my good byes to Lesley and Alejandra my 11am students. It was sad. They gave me loads of hugs. Later they came back and gave me M&Ms and a Hershey kiss as presents from each of them. I was sooooo touched and surprised. I was in the kitchen with some of the other hostellers. A few of them are ill with colds etc. One Swedish girl (Daniela) said that when she is ill at home she puts on a big bathrobe and wanders around the house hair askew and carries a toilet roll around with her by stringing the belt of her bathrobe through the toilet roll. Thought that was so cool.

I went to meet Lari at the grand opening of a new bar/restaurant in Xela. Oh my god. It was fab. They have painted various middle eastern murals around the walls of this rather grand room. They had drawings of ancient Egyptians and hieroglyphics, for the ladies and gents. Really swanky place, without being ostentatious in the slightest. They just have done a good job. The place is run by 2 Arab gents. Apparently there are only 3 Arabs living in Xela. When I arrived, Lari was sitting on a table, with a lot of Guatemalans, including Giopetti and The Mex. The Mex is a friend of the owner, who came over and seemed cool.

The bar laid on massive amounts of delicious food, Falafel, hummus, good pitta, fabulous tabouleh etc. I was in heaven. The drinks are even reasonable. Lari was a little tipsy and was in the mood for dancing. Then 3 belly dancers came on and give a performance that most definitely kept the boys happy. Later, the compere asked for girls in the audience to come up. Lari was ready like a shot and I got dragged up by the lead belly dancer. Er Great. Everybody sitting down and me up in front with 2 gringas and 3 belly dancers, and not really in a performing kind of mood AND STONE COLD SOBER . Anyway I tried to follow the instructions to wiggle my hips but I think we failed, as the session didn’t last long. Thank god.

Then this Arabic guy got up with this lady and they did a fairly good impression of mid eastern dancing. It was fun. I was later to dance with her (her name is Astrid), as she was also just dancing by herself. She was really liking the music and so we hung out on the dance floor. After about an hour, Astrid brought me over to her dance partner, at the bar. He is the brother of the chef, whom I also met. I congratulated them on the food. Later the place took off, as the DJ played some brilliant music. The Mex left but later returned as, his club (La Rumba) was dead. Everyone was here. This new bar could be bad for him. However, he took over the DJ slot to give the DJ a break. That’s Guatemala...

The atmosphere was amazing. The bar staff were dancing, as were the waiters/hosts. I recognized a guy who had previously worked at Ojala another bar here. He obviously had been poached. The staff, I think, were picked for their professionalism but I think on their looks too. It was amazing to watch the level of skill there. The owner was everywhere all night. They will do well. The night was a tremendous success. I left just before 1.Friday 09JanI said my goodbye to Lesley my 9am student. She is such a sweet girl.

14Jan
Lari told us this cool story that her teacher had told her. This gypsy girl called Vanuschka fell in love with a boy from a wealth Spanish family. However, when the family found out about it they sent him to war but he was killed. Vanuschka was devastated and died of a broken heart at 17 years of age. Over the years, she has become a sort of saint of love. Locals come to write on her grave their prayers of love and leave her flowers.

Ashley and I were intrigued by the story and also wanted to see the cemetery. Outside of the cemetery, we bought 2 roses. I got this rather beautiful 2 headed red rose. I thought it was fitting to bring to someone that was buried for love.
The cemetery was stunning. Some amazing graves had been built. We met this gent who told us some stories. He told us that many sculptures had been beheaded as this collector was paying some boys to remove them.
He also showed us the German section. Here, were the graves of some young German boys in their 20s who in 1917, had tried to stop the Mayans form sacrificing a girl to the volcano and had died in the effort.We also saw the memorial to those that died in 1897 fighting for independence of Xela from Guatemala. As well as graves of 2 of the 3 presidents of Guatemala who had been born and died in Xela. A book has been writing on the stories but we didn’t have the time to read or view that. What a shame.

Over the next few days Ashley, Lari, Zoe and I went to our favourite spots around town. It was sad to know we all had to part as had become good friends. Lari was to remain living in Xela and Ashley was living for Mexico a day after I left. Zoe left with me but was on her way to a coffee farm.
When Ashley and I hugged for the last time, there were tears. We had become true friends in the few months we were together and I will miss her terribly. Also Lari, I will miss her an awful lot. Although I only knew Zoe a short time, she had created a niche for herself in our group with her incredibly individual humour.

17Jan Zoe and I headed off together and got on our separate buses. I was leavign Xela for good. I felt really sad.

Cuba, the good, the bad and the Downright dangerous. Aug10 sep 04

We got the bus again. We were unable to reserve so we took pot luck at getting to the station an hour or so before the bus left. We were again lucky. There is only one bus company that tourist are allowed to use and they have a very limited number of buses running.
We ended up chatting a lot to the German guy (called Wolfgang no less) we met at the station. He was really cool and friendly. He used be a guide in a few countries for years and years but now was a maths or science teacher. Very sociable and interesting chap. Like Sue, he was here for just a few weeks.

On the road to Baracoa, the driver stopped at a farm and we were able to buy fresh pineapple and other fruit. Oh bliss.

We got picked up by a bicycle propelled taxi. The owner was there also and he rode beside us on his bike. The place we were staying was about 6 minutes from the centre and was the most beautiful little cottage surrounded by flowers. It was hard to get prices out of the owner though but they were lovely. Although their cooking was not as good as the other casas.

We had breakfast there each morning. I had my problems with wheat which got to me at the start but was now manageable and Sue was now having issues with not getting enough fresh vegetables or fruit which was getting to her and she was coming down badly with the flu. She had developed a really bad cough which was killing her. But Baracoa was beautiful and such a different vibe. No one was really pushing anything on us.
We walked around town and down to the beach. It is an ok beach. Very nice in places. Incredibly rocky in others, as the full force of the sea hits the island at certain points, defenses have been erected as in Havana.

We met Wolfgang again, he was very keen to go to this particular beach and also to do a tour of the national park, as were we. He had met 2 other German guys, Daniel and Jochen, equally keen so we all decided to meet that night. After dinner at our casa, we met the boys at an outside table at the Casa de Cultura to listen to trova from within, which was very good indeed. We all decided to hire an illegal taxi that the boys had procured to take us to the beach next day. The 3 boys were such a laugh.

9.30am Sue and I arrived to meet the boys for our tour. However, the taxi was nowhere to be found. We waited for an hour our so. Then someone did turn up but we were unsure it was the appropriate person. However, he seemed ok. Off we went. While motoring along the road, however, we were stopped by the police. There was no hiding the 5 of us. This time though the driver stopped and took the fine on the nose and was able to carry on with us. So that is how it´s done.

We started off at this fruit plantation, where we were able to get the most glorious juice. We passed some lovely sights and then finally we arrived at this incredible sandy beach. It was hot but whos complaining. The taxi was very keen for us to eat at this beach restaurant. He was obviously on commission. I ate as I was hungry and Sue helped me out. It was beautiful fresh fish and rice. I am eating so much good stuff since Havana. We stayed for a few hours walking.

We arrived back in town but got off in a side street to avoid the police and another fine. We met Wolfgang later in one of the restaurants recommended in the Lonely planet. The LP didnt fail us. The restaurant food was impecable and scrumptious. Later we went by the Casa de Cultura and met the boys. It is fun watching them. The Cuban girls are mad after the pair, as they are pretty hot. However, Jochen has no interest. Daniel on the other hand is up for play time. They left us to hang out on the path and play guitar, surrounded by locals and a few girls. Jochen did come back for a while as was getting tired of girls trying to seduce him.

This old man then arrived at our table. He said he was 86. He was aright little cheeky bugger but delightful. After money, of course but he serenaded us well, so we obliged. Am a sucker for cute old men who sing to me. Well actually cute guys who sing to me ha ha. Too bad there are so few of them. Later we passed by the boys, the pair of them fluttered and strumming a guitar.

As the beach trip was so successful. We booked the taxi to take us to the national park. It was a long drive but we hired one of the resident guides, who took us through the park, showing us the local flora and fauna. It was so beautiful. There are many plants, indigenous solely to this park or Cuba. After that we took a little boat through the mangrove forest for an hour. It was a fabulous day and trip. On the way home, we even got to buy some great street food and fruit from some farmers. Life was good.

We had dinner in the Casa. We felt we ought to but Sue was not so happy with the food. She was becoming more ill. I left her be, to rest, she needed it and I went off to join Wolfgang. He was sitting outside the Casa de Cultura with whom, I was later to find out, was the head of the Culture in Baracoa. He was facinating, intelligent and really cool to talk to. He had been a teacher previously but thought standards were falling so left. He said he loved Cuba and never wanted to leave but did want to visit other places and have more freedom.


This echoed the thoughts of many we have spoken to. He too was afraid that because Cuba had been deprived of things American etc. that when freedom did come or Fidel passed away, the urge by the young to have anything American could destroy Cuba. I said I felt that exiled Cubans etc. were just waiting to come in and devour Cuba. They have lots of money to buy up everything in sight and those here will gladly give it thinking they will be rich and being altruistic helping their brother Cubans. They won´t be. I have seen the same thing in Nicaragua etc.. The locals receive a pittance for prime real estate. The new foreign owners then make an absolute fortune on the same property selling it on or developing it. It will be disastrous for the culture. Nevertheless, Cuba also needs change. Raul Castro is loosening the restrictions and was supposed to introduce more internet freedom. But we will see.

Next day Sue was still feeling ill, so I went to the nearby beach by myself. I was sitting minding my own business, when this gent just offered me some fruit whilst passing. then this lovely lady came up and offered me dinner. She was there with her daughter who was engaged to a Frenchman who was also there. I chattted to them for a while. Dinner was delicious. I thought initially she was selling it to me. But she was just offering it to me. I have been in latin America too long. Ha Ha. I thought wow this is great. It was such a sweet gesture tho.


But true to form, later these 3 young guys came up and chatted. Before long one of them pretended to hide behind me for protection from his friend, fooling around but then tried to grope me. I slapped him off in jest but got the point across and they then left. Later this guy selling massage oil wanted to show me how it was on the skin. I put out my arm but he went for my stomach, the little git. I slapped him off too. I felt a bit exposed lying on a beach in my bikini. Urgh Cuban men can be so very tiresome. The amount of times you are just walking along the street and they come up and strike up a conversation. It is all harmless but they are after a western girlfriend so they can get presents or a passport. Take your pick. So there is no hope of getting a big head and thinking you are so gorgeous. Ha Ha!! Sue joined me later, which was a relief.

We went to another restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet and brought the 3 boys along. We had such a laugh.They are such good fun.


Next day we went to the bus to get back to Santiago and then Santa Clara. We got lucky and didnt have to stay in Santiago again. We arrived early morning in Santa Clara. We got to leave our bags in the bus station after giving a tip. Money talks.

Santa Clara has money and not from tourism. Cafe society exists here, even if only with cheese and ham sandwiches and limited choice of beverages. But it does exist. We partook. After breakfast, we went to the scene of one of Che Guevaras biggest and the revolutions most decisive battles. They had blown a train up and fought and won against a heavily armed contingent of Batistas soldiers.

Later we went to the Che memorial and burial place. The monument was pretty impressive. The Che museum was really better than I thought it would be. There were things from Che´s childhood, photos, school reports, teen fotos, things pre his guerilla days and various items of clothing etc. he wore or used in his guerilla days, his Mate cup of course was there too and some of his diaries.. No photos etc. were allowed either in the museum or tomb.

The tomb was beautiful. . It was so still and tranquil with candlelight and subdued lighting. Really tastefully done. You could tell it was built with love and respect. A few of the most notable rebels who fought and died with Che were buried there too. It was a really a beautiful place and am so glad we went.


After our whirlwind tour of Santa Clara and Che memories, we then got the bus to Vinales. The intention being I would stay there and Sue would go to Marie la Gorda or Isla de Juventude to dive.

We didnt bother booking a casa in advance but landed a brilliant one and for way cheaper than the others because of it. Fab. Oh my god the food was to die for. Our hostess was a really wonderful cook.

The day after arriving we went on tour with our hostess´ daughter. A little bit of a money grabber but interesting enough. She was having an off day though but we were lucky to hook up with another tour with some lovely people in it. We got to go to a tobacco farm and even to try some cigars. I bought a few. The scenery was wonderful and the walk fairly sedentry. We entered some underground caves, swam in the dark underground river with torches and viewed some stalagmites and stalagtites. Even got to taste some fabulous fruit and sugar cane juice. Next day we went up to the hotel overlookingVinales. It was quite the posh hotel, used mostly by tour groups and even had fresh orange juice for sale. We lazed around by the pool taking in the sun while it shone, until the rains hit that is.

However, our lazing around and joy was short lived.

The TV warned of a hurrican fast approaching. Early, as hurricane season was not due for another few weeks or a month. It was supposed to be heading for Havana but came our way instead. As we watched the news reports, the warnings became more severe. First it was a force 3 then 3.5, last we heard it was force 4 gearing up to maybe force 5, the worst possible. Oh dear, we were right in the thick of it an no way of getting out. We probably could have got a taxi but we decided to brave it.
On the morning it was due, we got up to find that most of the furniture had been moved from the sitting room into the back of the house. All glass etc was put elsewhere for safety. Not a good sign. They kept trying to reassure us but the signs were evidently not good. Around 12.30, electriciy was turned off. We now had no way of knowing where or what was happening with the hurricane. The electricity is turned off by the Cuban government, as a safety mechanism. Many who die in hurricanes etc. die from fallen wires etc. I thought this was a pretty sensible plan. Sue and I thought it was such good luck now in retrospect, that she had been too ill and had not booked any diving. She had been heading to the areas that were now completely evacuated, as the path of the hurricane was over the Isla de Juventude.


We walked around and met some other travellers, stuck as we were. So this French couple and this Aussie guy (Shane) joined us in our walkabout. We went to this lovely garden, a 100 years in the making, put together by these 2 sisters, now well into their 90s, whose family had started the process. There were many beautiful, unusual plants, gathered by the sisters over the years. There were also some bizarre items like beer cans hanging off bushes or ancient dolls or dolls heads stuck on branches. It was quite the eccentric garden.
These fotos above show Vinales in the calm before the storm.


It was raining and blistery. We lost the French couple and later Sue went back to the casa to rest. I stayed with Shane, as I felt we would be in the casa long enough and I would get a little stir crazy, also I wanted to see what it was like on the streets. Besides that Shane was by himself in his casa and didn´t speak much Spanish, so it would be a lonely vigil for him til the hurricane passed. At the petrol station, people had gathered in the only cafe that was open. It was warm and we were able to grab a sandwich. We stayed there till 2.30pm. Then we could feel the intensity of the storm growing. Branches, big ones were already being torn from the trees and were littering the ground, as we walked. It was weird saying goodbye, as neither of us knew what would be the outcome of tonight. It was that bizarre.



I got to the casa, to find Sue and our hosts somewhat concerned at my late return. The house was battoned down. There was wood nailed to all the shutters and windows. Everything was either nailed or tied down. The owners fear had increased since morning. We knew it was going to be bad. We stayed in our room. I decided to pack everything. so that if we had to run or leave anything it would be all tied up. I put all my necessary stuff into my small rucksack and put my raincoat on the door knob, all ready, if we had to make a quick getaway. Sue did likewise. I kept my boots on. I reasoned that I didn´t want to be like Bruce Willis in "Die hard" walking around barefoot on glass. HA Ha!! I know I watch too many movies. but it has always been a thing with me to have shoes I could run in. If I had to. AND tonight I just might have to, if the roof caved in.


There was no way to see out, as everything was nailed. So the only way we could see what was happening was when the owner opened the door to let her husband in or out depending on the work he was doing, or when they were just being nosey. I kept my ears open for those opportuinities to look out. Ok so I have a morbid curiousity. But I found it exasperating not to be able to look. Both the owners mothers had been brought to our casa, as ours was the strongest house. One kept praying on her rosary bead. It didn´t reasure or help anyones nerves hearing some old lady praying, like her life depended on it. And maybe it did. Bless her she was on her last legs and this was not helping.


The owners were so good to us and brought us tea and invited us to be in the back area of the house. We decided to stay in our room at the front. We didnt want to intrude. It was not really the time to make polite faltering converstation.

The winds were working up a storm outside and their force was intensifying rapidly and ferociously. The rain was belting the windows and walls and hammering the roof. Rain water was seeping in through the joins of the roof and walls. As the storm gathered its strength, the force of the rain was so bad it just shot in through the joins. I helped the ladies of the house brush the water out the front door. It was that bad. We got rid of a lot but later, it was twice as bad. At least it gave me something to do. We felt a bit useless. We had no light and I didnt want to use my torch in case we needed it later.



As the evening wore on, the rain howled like some prehistoric wounded animal. It was a ROAR, so loud, I have never encountered anything like it in my life. The wind and what ever it was carrying, whipped the doors, walls and windows. I pitied the poor animals outside peoples houses, trapped in their hutches etc.. The howl got worse. Sue was lying down on the bed. She hated it. She hates storms which I had not realised till tonight. For me I enjoyed them so it was not so bad, although this one was severely testing me. But I felt we we would be ok with that funny thing I have, I just felt nothing bad would happen us. I didn´t have that bad feeling I often get when bad things are going to happen. So I guess I was slightly protected but still I couldn´t be sure it would be ok. We lay on Sues bed, as water was coming in a little on on my side of the room. We each lay in our private world, with our fears of what the night would bring. It was only 6pm. It was already the worst storm we had ever experienced and it wasn´t over yet.


As the storm grew, I was seriously afraid the roof would go. I could almost feel it lifting at times, as the hurican ran amok, like some ogre swinging his club. At one stage the owners ran in and dragged us out of our room. They were afraid the front of the house was going to go. You could almost feel the house lifting. It was like a battalian of soldiers were ramming the house down. We went back to our room when there was a slight lull but it just got worse. It was so bad Sue and I huddled together and hugged. We were effin scared. About 8.30/9pm, I really could have sworn that was it. The roof was gone, it was like just a few more blasts would tear it off, like a wrapper off a chocolate bar. I prayed, I can tell you.


Then miraculously, the winds started to die down. We couldn´t believe it. We thought it was going to accelerate again but it didnt. We had survived a force 4/5 hurricane.


We helped the owners brush out the water again from the sitting room. It was about an inch deep, maybe more. Thank god everything had been removed from the front room. The husband went outside to check damages. It was all good. Incredible!!


There was a tangible sense of relief. Anything could have happened but it didnt. At least not to us. We nodded off in the lull despite the still gusting winds. I slept with my boots on. Sue laughed but I am a girl guide at heart the girl guide motto "Be prepared" was something I took to heart.


Next morning we got up early. We looked outside. It was a gloriously sunny day. Who would have thought that the night before ever happened. Sue kindly texted Maudie and Dad for me. Apparently he had been worried sick, as he was able to see a lot more than us on TV and it had not been a pretty picture portrayed by the media. He was probably more worred, as a result than us. Sue´s parents had been sick with worry too and had actually cried when they heard her voice.



The husband of the house, set about removing the nails etc. and then went off to help neighbours and check the respective mothers houses. Most of our street was ok, so we thought the storm didnt do much. However, on closer inspection, the roof of one house was missing. The occupants were drying their TV, mattresses, clothes etc. in the sun.



We then wandered around the rest of the streets. Oh my god. the absolute devastation. The crossroads near our street was a lake. Chickens were running around like headless chickens do. Many rooves were on the ground or folded back still dangling from the walls of their houses. The streets were strewn with branches, whole trees. Not just small trees but huge giant trees in places. Sometimes trees had fallen onto the rooves of houses. We had to step over trees to walk along the streets. We wanted to take fotos but it seemed a sick thing to do. I saw this middle aged lady walking in dirty clothes, just a couple of plastic bags in her hand. She was totally traumatised. She just kept repeating "I have lost everytihing, everything is gone." God it was sad. I just wanted to give her a hug. Later, this car passed by and the people seemed to be smiling. I asked how they were, bad move. Oh god the woman just burst into tears, she had come up from the coast. Everything had been destroyed. I felt so bad for her.





We went up by the Casa de Culture. This had been a beautifully renovated two story colonial house. Now most of the tiles were on the ground beneath, whipped off in last nights frenzy. The church to the right of it, when we approaced, looked remarkably unscathed. However, when we walked around, we saw the huge tree to the left had lost half its immence trunk which had crashed onto the church and its roof. Luckily it was not the whole tree and it was only a little of the roof. Still it was severely damaged. Glass windows were smashed. The large wooden doors badly damaged. The surrounding plaza completely covered in branches and tiles.

We heard this whimpering from underneath some poor houses roof, that had blown onto the plaza. This poor young dog came out to our call. He was still trembling. Petrified! We sat for a while and just stroked him till the trembling subsided. We met other dogs in a simlar state. Totally traumatised from the night before. We wanted to help but there was just nowhere to volunteer. Everyone was just trying to get to grips with events. The tidying up was happening just at the house level.

We walked around a bit more. Electricity pylons lay strewn on the ground, wires throwb across streets. We heard about the hotel, whose pool we had lazed by. Apparently it was a wreck. Practically demolished, as was another hotel that had been on an equally impressive lookout point. I guess there are disadvantages to being that high up huh! We met a mother and sun that had been staying there. They apparently had been locked in tehir rooms for their safety. God I would have hated that. Also that could have been lethal. They had spent a petrified night and were desperate to escape Vinales.


We walked up there to see the damages. It was bad. Later we met Shane and the French couple. Shane had sat with the Grandfather of the house outside looking at the storm for hours. He said the grandfather was enjoying himself. I would have liked to have been with someone like that. They lost a bit of the roof of the outside but otherwise his casa was intact. As was the French Couples.
We were standing at a corner, when the dogs we had befriended came up to me. At fist there was only 2 then suddenly there wre about 5 dogs jumping up on me wanting a pet. It was very disconcerting. I also had my periods adn I had this awful fear that they could misinterprete that. ouch. Dinner I wasn´t.

We met this French guy, who had been driving around Cuba near Vinales. In the storm, his car had broken down outside Vinales and they had to thumb a ride to town. He was organising to get his hired car rescued. He had not heard anything about the storm until yesterday evening so had to rush to Vinales and get accomadation. The had to pay 30 dollars for a breakfast. Sheer extortion.


We met loads of people desperate to leave town and get to Havana. Shane, the French couple and ourselves decided to stay on another day and in that way help out. Also there was no hope of a bus and no clue as to what the roads were like. There was still danger of falling trees uprooted because of the storm but still standing as of now. Still people took taxis out. We saw loads of people taking photos and videos. Completely blatant about it. It made us pretty disgusted. If it was discreet I would say ok but this was not.


We all went by the 100 year old garden. Oh what a sad sight. It was destroyed. 100 year old trees felled to the ground. Bushes flattened. It would take years, if not longer to regenerate. It summed it all up. Very sad.


Farmers had gathered selling fresh fruit on the streets. They had to. So much had been destroyed or torn down that they were trying to make the most of it, while the fruit was still edible. God knows what would happen the rest of the year or maybe more years, as the harvests were now destroyed and would need total replanting. Whole banana plantations were just heaps of leaves and rotting fruit.

We were told that electricity might take 20 days or even a month to repair. The damage was that severe. Nevertheles, the word on the street was that no one was killed. A miracle considering the strenght of the storm. Unusual as many were killed in equivalent storms, in other countries. But the governments quick action to evacuate people and turn off the electricty contibuted hugely to this.

It was bizzare if you stood at any corner for any lenght of time, foreigners, came to talk to you, asking about buses, how it was for us etc.

That evening, we were overawed, a delicious dinner was on the table, as if nothing had happened. Despite no electricity and all the work to clean up the place. My god they are amazing people.

We arranged to meet the French couple and Shane after dinner in the main plaza. We had nothing else to do. So we had a bit of havana rum, as you do.


Next day, we tried to contact the mother and son we had met yesterday to share a taxi to Havana. But no go. So we went to the main drag. This man offered a taxi. I said we would but not until I found this couple. He took this as a yes and procured another couple I told him no we had given our word to some others. I had left Sue back at the casa whilst I looked for the couple. When I got back to the casa, the taxi driver was there I was quite irriated to be put under such pressure. Anyway I left Sue to continue packing and went off with my bags. As I couldn´t find the mother and son, we ended up going with this English couple who were adorable. Our driver was lovely and not the person who had been the go between. Thank god. He was nervous about the journey, if the police caught him...

Along the road, we could see the flattened landscape that previously held rows of trees and plants. Huge electricity pylons had been crumpled like paperclips, along the road to Havana. Completely twisted and flattened. Surreal.



We were finally back in Havana. We had a really nice casa right in the centre around the corner from the Floridita, Hemingways old haunt. Havana had luckily been untouched by the storm. I couldn´t see it survive what we had. Nature had been kind, at least to Havana.

Next day, Sue and I took a taxi to Hemingways house, a few miles outside of Havana on a splendid hill overlooking the city. It was such a beautiful house, all white and 50´s furniture. And books everywhere. Everything had been left as it was on the day he died, even down to the array of magazines he left on his coffee table. His yacht had been brought to the gardens and a special cover built to protect it. He used this for his deep sea fishing. Nearby the boat were 4 small graves where hisdogs had been buried. We took lots of photos needless to say.

We came back to town and went to a few corners, we had not got to yet. Walking along the street we bumped into this Italian we had met on our tour, then another Italian we had met in Baracoa and Vinales came along.

As we were chatting, along came Eddy whom I had first met in San Juan, Nicaragua, bumped into again in Utila, Honduras and here he was in again Havana. Small world! We all arranged to go to a bar that nightafter our visit to the fort.


Just before Sunset, we visited a fortress across from Havana main. It was a huge well maintained fortress and inside was a museum with much military regalia and a short history of the Cuban missile crisis among other things. At 7pm was the item we were waiting for, the march of old uniformed soldiers from around the 18th century was announced witha trumpet call. .They did their changing of the guard etc. Then set off the cannon to herald the end of the day. It was pretty interesting. We had dinner at the fort in this rather nice restaurant. Although the service was painfully slow. We then rushed off to meet the boys. We met in this bar with a mixture of locals and foreingners. And Salsa music. The talk turned to politics and Cuba Libres. It was a fun night.



Next day, walking along the steet, we met this man at a corner, on a bike with these 2 remarkably well trained dogs. They were so cute and clever. We had a chat with him and of course took the requisite photos, with a tip thrown in. I still was amazed at each new street I saw, each more beautiful than another.

We walked along one of the main thoroughfares and found the book sellers. I managed to buy a few diaries of Che Guevara and a history of the Cuban Missile crisis and US involvement in Cuba. Tehre have been about 600 attempts by the CIA etc. on Fidel. Also The US has waged warfare includign biological warfare on Cuba even now. There are so many terrorists actions by the US on Cuba and many other countries and yet they get away with it.

Later we went to the big craft market. Some pretty cool stuff was for sale. The most amazing part was the artists corner. Some great paintings were on display. If I had more money and space I would have bought so much.

Near the harbour in this sheltered alley, were a load of fishing boats. These had been placed here just before the hurricane hit for protection. It was such a bizarre sight to see fishing boats on the street. We waited while they loaded them on trucks to return them to their natural habitat.

That night, Sue and I dined in this restaurant by the harbour. Again it came recommended by Lonely planet. Again they didn´t lie,. It was brilliant and a beautiful setting overlooking the harbour and of course expensive.
Our last day together, we went for a walk to the big market and then had a Mojito in the Bodega, the other of Hemingways haunts. We finally got there. The walls were covered in graffiti left by previous visitors. So Sue and I added our mark, as you do...

In one of the old squares, I had my fortune told by this Santeria?? lady. Didnt understand most of it but it was fun. I think she blessed me. She was rather a large lady, dressed in the ery African LAtina Santeria white lace and a big fat Cuban cigar in her mouth. Foto was here but got deleted. somehow...


Sues taxi never turned up, but we got a good deal to pick her up and the English couple we had shared a taxi from Vinales, who were leaving on the same plane as Sue. It was sad to see her go.


However, I had arranged to meet Eddy and he turned up later. We walked for hours around Havana to places I would never have gone. We passed the US office of Cuban concerns. They dont have an embassy now but this "Equivalent". Fidel had positioned about a 100 flags right infront of the offices as a reminder and an upright finger to the US. Each flag representing several of those that had died due to US involvement in Cuba.


We ended up chatting in the park for hours after dinner and our exploration of the city. It was interesting to hear Eddys version of Cuba. His Dad is Cuban and his mother is African American. When he came first he had a wonderful time but when he came back this time, he experienced racism from the Police on a regular basis as they thougth he was a local adn he fitted the "profile". I.e he has dreads. That was sad.


Next day I did a last wonder around. My taxi didnt turn up either but I ended up in a mototaxi. This I had heard was illegal but he was prepared to do it. He was a young chap and was so delighted to get me in. He had such a grin on his face and was waving to all his friends. However near the airport all happiness was doused with a good scolding from the police. They fined him but left him continue to the aiport, then some other policeman cornered him. Poor chap.

And then I was off to Honduras. Adieu Cuba. It was fun