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

Back to Xela,

I thought I would add some recent blog while I update the ones I havent got around to yet e.g. Cuba, Mexico Guatemala. Just so you know what I am up to.

Er in case you hadnt guessed. I am in Quetzaltenango otherwise known as Xela in Guatemala. 7 weeks now... with 3 weeks inbetween to visit Mexico.

12Nov.
After a 12hour overnighter, I got to Tuxtla about 6.30am. But got damned as the next bus out to Comitan was at 10.30. I tried to get a collectivo which would have been a lot cheaper and quicker but no such luck. When I asked no one knew what I was talking about. I had to bite the bullet and pay for a 1st class ticket I didn’t even need. Balls. I then realised, that we were going to San Christobal. If I had known I was heading there I could have taken a direct bus there the night before instead of Tuxtla and stayed in San Cristobal and seen it as it is supposed to be beautiful but I didn’t have a guidebook so had no clue and it was the slow, indirect bus I was now on double bad whammy. So I got to the border, hours after I though I would or needed to.

At the border, I realised I had to pay 20 dollars to Mexican customs. I screwed up by saying I didn’t know if I was coming back. If I had been I don’t think I would have been charged. I had forgotten that. But I just didn’t know what to say. I had almost enough in pesos. I ran out of immigration and bumped in to this Mexican named Isreal, also trying to cross the border. He asked if I wanted to share a taxi to the Guatemalan border so I said yes but I would pay in Guatemalan quetzals, if he lent me the Mexican equivalent. He agreed, so I was able to pay my exit tax. More lost money. aaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh
He spoke Brilliant English so we had a good chat. This was his first time ever leaving Mexico or travelling alone. He only had about 7 or 8 days.

We crossed the border and got a bus almost immediately for Huehuetenango (Huehue). However, the bus broke down about 30 minutes from Huehue. And I mean broke down. There were bits of the undercarriage and oil along the road. The poor bus driver. So we got on the next bus about 20 of us. With me being the only non latino. None of those that got on wanted to pay again as they had already paid and our first bus driver said it was unnecessary.
They say the Mayans are quite timid but this lady, my god but she was assertive and was the spokes person for all of us. One tough cookie… It was fab. None of us paid. She put all the men to shame. All the locals had a laugh about it and there was a lot of respect for this lady.

Well we got to Huehue about 6pm, it was dark and no more buses were running. So we had to stay in Huehue. We found a nice hostel and after a bit of a walk around, found a nice restaurant for dinner. This was Israel’s first dinner abroad.

13Nov
I got the bus to Xela, Isreal came as far as Quatro Caminos so he could carry on to Lake Atitlan.
I got to the hostel after a cheap ride on the collectivo from Terminal Minerva. Lori was there and it was good to see her. She kindly cooked me dinner, that helped. Realised I lost my little purse, either when I was leaving the collectivo or left it on the table here and it was stolen. That is a real pain, as my keys to my padlock, on my rucksack was in it and a little money. More lost money. Don’t seem to be having much luck with money at the moment.

It feels really weird to be back. Gina has gone to El Salvador and Michelle has rented an apartment. Joan has gone to the states. So that just leaves Lori, Julia and Andrew. There are loads of new people here now, many have been here for weeks so have bonded. I feel a complete stranger and not sure I will fit in at all.

Well I decided not to take any Spanish classes. I am now studying by myself. I really needed to study my verbs, as paying someone to correct me on things I already know but can’t remember easily is painful. I have taken up salsa again too. There is a guy, Matt, He is just a beginner but the others here are way ahead, so we have ended up partnering each other. I tried some of the local guys but it just isn’t benefiting me. Matt and I can hash out a step etc and correct each other. The best thing is we have a laugh which makes the class go quicker and a lot easier.

16Nov
Graces birthday today. Happy Birthday!!!!

Amanda, an American girl arrived for a few days and took Lori, Andrew and I on this beautiful walk up to one of the hills around Xela. We walked for about an hour up through some nice countryside to Baul. At the top was a pagoda and a rather large cross. The views across the city were amazing. We then found the giant slides. Of course we had to have a go. So we took turns taking photos of us coming down like a bunch of kids. It was such a laugh. I did manage to graze my elbow when I let it lower, as I was speeding down. And Lori ended up going into one of the other lanes. So it was a bit risky but oh such fun…
The area has lovely pagodas for families wishing to come up here for picnics and a BBQ. It also had a memorial to the first woman who climbed the active volcano nearby.

Over the last 3 weeks many have passed through the hostel although many have stayed. I met a lovely girl called Hele from Wolverhampton and it was great to meet a cool English person. She laughed when I said flipping heck over something so we bonded as she felt at home too. It made a difference having someone form Europe here. Also 2 Irish girls came through. Lori told me about them and in my head I thought ah would it be funny if they were from Kinsale and imagined the conversation. When I met them I was sort of shocked as both Amba and Carly now live in Kinsale, bizarre or what.

I have begun to make friends again here. There is a pretty good bunch of people here. Megan, Kaliegh, Bill, Matt and Mary from the US. Ashley from Canada which I seem to get on best with lately. Michelle also pops by with her boyfriend Andrew. And of course Leite and Hilda are still here. Melvyn, Hilda´s brother now works her too instead of Francisco. He is sweet. I gave a few English lessons to Leite and Melvyn for a few days. Which I must start again.

25Nov

Lori moved to a room in an apartment block so she could live with Guatemalans and speak more Spanish. Although she is not totally happy there. She is a bit of nervous soul and on her first day was told by a Dutch girl also living there, that some of the other inhabitants steal portions of food from other peoples leftovers when left in the communal fridge. Also one of the occupants is a drunk, who comes by each night to knock on the Dutch girls door and of her Belgian friend´s door also. This nearly freaked the life out of Lori. Especially when she found out that the Dutch girl had received a letter from said drunk, asking her to spend her last night with him as he has been in love with her since she arrived. Oops.

We hit the blue angel every now and then to watch a movie. Recently saw “Frida” again. It was such a beautiful movie.
One night, I went solo to see a movie on the creator of Bossa Nova. I was the only one there watching the movie. It was pretty spectacular and I really need to research his music more and buy some as I totally love bossa Nova.

Wednesday nights and Friday nights we hit the salsa clubs. La Parranda or La Rumba. A lot of the long-term hostel guests are learning salsa and Spanish, so it is nice to have someone to go out with.

22Nov

Lori and I went to El Cuartito, this will be one of our favourite bars, I think. It had a band there playing Cuban trova among other music types.

25Nov Well finally the gang got to go to Fonda Del Che. A bar covered in Che Guevara memorabilia. Of course I am going to love this. As I am now in my 3rd of Che´s diaries. There was an excellent guitarist playing Trova. I preferred it there than El Cuartito but the atmosphere is good in both. So will have to go more often.

27Nov
Well as we have so many Americans staying at the hostel we decided to cook a dinner there for all guests. However, turns out the oven doesn’t work. So that put paid to that. There is an organisation here called Quetzaltrekkers. This is a totally volunteer organisation that organises hikes for tourists in quetzaltenango(Xela). They also organise benefit dinners etc. All the money except for the director’s salary, goes to a school for street kids or kids that need to be schooled but cant be in their own home villages so have to stay at the school midweek. All the volunteers work for free. So we decided to go there for thanksgiving dinner and give our money to a good cause. We had a lovely evening, the food was great even though there wasn’t a turkey in sight. All vegetarian food. Although, for those used to pumpkin pie, there were a few complaints as to the quality.

I met one volunteer, an Irish girl some time back. She came over with some extra helpings of garlic mashed potatoes to all us Irish. It was so sweet and funny. So being the good Irish cailin I am, I managed another large helping. They were sooooo good.
We all then went to La Parranda for some 80s/90s music which disappointed. But Matt and I ended up talking to this really cool American girl one age with me and had a laugh. Laurie is a photographer and has moved to Xela indefinitely.

28Nov.
We all went to La Rumba. Best salsa club in town, well in my opinion. Got to dance with one of the teachers, Byron, from a Spanish school. A great dancer even if he was a foot smaller than I. A real sweetie though. Had a dance with Andrew, he is really good. Matt and I tried to dance a few dances but we hit the meringue or some other type of dance and failed miserably, oh well next time.
29Nov

There was protest against violence, kidnappings and extortion today in Xela. There was a good turn out. Many all in white as they had been asked to and had been given white t-shirts by the ex-guerrilla radio that is still in existence since the war years. About 14 or so taxi drivers were involved. All with messages, written on their cars.I listened to the speeches and was able to understand a lot, especially the priests, as they are used to speaking in public, and therefore speak more slowly. There was an award given to one child (all of 10 or so years) . She stood up there and spoke like a professional.

Andrew leaves tomorrow. Supposed to go out but we all stayed in the kitchen chatting. Matt bought this girls suede jacket. He is so tall with this girlie jacket that it makes quite a sight. But he has a laugh with it. He tried on a hat and scarf and he decided he needed some rather large white sunglasses to complete the retro 70´s look. He bought the jacket with the intention of using it for a week, then trading it in with some cash and get a super duper rain jacket he has been trying to buy for 2 weeks. He has tried to get the owner of the shop to reduce her price but she wont. He thinks if he wears her down she will give in. I’m putting my money on the owner.

30Nov. An English couple (Rob and Charlotte) moved in, as well as an English girl Eve, They invited us to go on a visit to San Andreas Xecul for the festival of I thin the patron saint of the town. So Matt, Jenny a German girl and I went with them all. We were almost the only tourists there. It was really lovely.

It was a really Mayan town so most people were in traditional clothes. They didn’t seem to mind us and were as curious about us, as we were about them. It was a really lovely day. The town is famous for its amazing coloured church, where the angels have blue boots. In the plaza, outside the church, stood a huge Ferris wheel and 2 smaller ones. Loads of stalls as usual were constructed around the place. I got separated fro a while from the others as I was trying to get a good foto of the start of the parade. I then realised I had run out of battery and had forgotten to transfer the spare battery to my bag this morning. I was gutted. Luckily, I met Matt who was trying to do the same as I and he agreed to give me his photos. Still I would love to have had my own.

Matt and I found some great street food but as I was going to pay for a milkshake, I realised I had lost my other little purse. This time with no keys but 120 quetzales, about 20 dollars worth. I am really having bad luck money wise. I was waiting for item no 3 to happen. We then saw the others back at the plaza. Rob was dead keen to go on the Ferris wheel as was I so we persuaded Charlotte and Matt to go up. What a view. It was fun although matt started to lean forward on the seat to scare me which it did, I am so glad he didn’t lean anymore forward as Rob later informed us that he saw people swinging the full way around as threw was no locks on the seat to prevent them from going upside down. Phew!!!!

Still we had a great day. We had to walk part of the way home, as there was a massive traffic jam of cars and buses trying to get into the festivities. We were in our bus for about 15/20 minutes but eth heat was awful and the locals rebelled and left. We found out it was a short walk so off we set. It was a lovely 20 minute or so walk. We were sad to be leaving because judging by the amount coming in to town, there was going to be one hell of a party. But there were no night buses home, so had to leave.

Over the last 3 weeks, Salsa is still progressing. Albeit very slowly. There are so many moves to learn. Matt and I get to partner each other most of the time, so at least we don’t have to struggle with Spanish and learning to dance. Now we just have to do it on a real dance floor…

1Dec
Gina and Chris came back for a while but have now left for the rest of their trip around Guatemala and Mexico. Angela a lovely Canadian, also left today. That is 4 gone that I have got to like a lot that have left in a few days. A shame. But the communal dinners have made a resurgence. They had stopped completely. They are in no way, as good as they used be, but it is nice to have people stay and chat over cooking and eating.

Lori seems to be fitting in better in her room as she has now met some other Guatemalans which are really nice. She has washed the walls etc. in her room with disinfectant and now has a better lock, after Matt fixed it for her and mended the shelves she bought. She mentioned that Matt looked so manly fixing the shelves and how it was nice to have a guy around to do guy things. Of course this is anathema to me, so I nearly barfed.
And the drunk has never knocked on her door. She was wondering if she should be offended by the rejection but we thought not ha ha.

So my new name for Matt is Manly Matt. Back at the hostel, I told Ashley, she found it just as amusing as I did. She came up with the new phrase… Manly Matt in his girlie jacket. We laughed. I like her humour. Matt seems to be taking it quite well. bless him.

Xela who... The first pass Late Sep to Late Oct

Xela 28 September

I got the early bus to Sacapulos, then on to Huehuetenango. It was nice scenery but the road was damaged from too much rain and sometimes one side of the road was impassable due to landslides. However, did get to see a lot of Indigenous on their way to the market or at the market in passing with the odd photo. Xela Today I arrived in Quetzaltenango, Xela for short, It is Sunday and the place is dead. I check into a hostel called Don Diego, then set to exploring and eating. I tried looking for this Thai restaurant but no luck. However I found "Sabor de India" which was a delicious Indian Restaurant. I spoke to this American chap and he recommended the Blue Angel for movies.
There is something familiar about Xela. I can´t put my finger on it. I watch a movie later and bump into him. I thought I could organise a Spanish school today but everything is closed. Back at the dorm, I met this young German trainee doctor. She is working far up in the hills in a village miles from anything and came to Xela for a bit of RnR. She is having a fascinating time with her patients, who are now used to her. She told us that if someone cant be treated at her clinic, or it is too serious, they have to drive 3hrs or more or get a taxi to the nearest hospital. Most don’t have a car and often that drive is too long. This is especially true for difficult births. She also said the equipment they had was medieval and very limited. It was sad yet the people were incredible.

Monday. I set to investigating all the Spanish schools around. Oh my god! There are so many. I am so confused. I want to go with a Mayan school but it does not feel the best. I give up and try to find walking boots. I search for hours and hours and hours. Nothing. Oh god.
Tuesday. I searched again for walking boots. I have to find some, as walking around in freezing rain in sandals. It is killing me. By Wednesday, I have given up trying to buy hiking boots and invested in a cool pair of boots, red converse look-a-likes. Always wanted a pair so now I have them but what the hell am I to do about hiking boots? But at least I now feel a million times warmer with covered feet. Life is better already.

I make friends with Lori and Joan two pretty cool Americans, who are a few years younger than I. Joan being the baby. We often end up on the single bed in the dorm chatting for hours. I have another great roommate, called John. He has just turned 60 and is probably one of the coolest men I have met. He has been volunteering for 6 months in another town several miles away, teaching. His wife is just as spectacular. She has volunteered to help protect witnesses on their way to trial. There are trials running at the moment on crimes committed during the war etc. Often the witnesses are intimidated by the perpetrators or their associates. However, just having one foreigner present can stop this. Bizarre but… His wife though has had to volunteer for 6 months as there are other things to be done too and often appearing as a witness is traumatic so counseling and helping is part of the job too.

Friday, well I finally found a school, it was recommended to me by an Aussie called Michael, who was here for the weekend, up from another town where he is volunteering for 6 months teaching English. I booked for 5 hours every afternoon for a week.
There is great excitement in Xela at present as it is the month of the Virgin Mary. Stalls have set up in the central park selling food like tacos, corn and poncho, which is a hot fruit punch. Needless to say I have had great fun trying them all.

There are regular processions around town, which involves carrying a life size statue of the virgin with religious walking behind praying and fire crackers being left off behind he procession every 10 minutes or so (they are so loud). What I do like though is that the men carry the statue for a short while, then the women take over. At home it used always be just the men. The cathedral has been decorated with the finest flowers and draped with long swaths of red cloth. It is stunning inside.

This week met some of the other regulars here in the hostel. There is Marco, from Guatemala, an architecture student here in Xela. He is a doll. And a mad Mexican called Pablo, 26. Then there is Francisco, 21, Lette, 17 and Hilda who has 2 kids and seems to be in her late 20s/early 30s all working in the hostel.

At the weekend, I went around town looking at the festivities. In the evenings there are marimba bands and a great party atmosphere.

Sunday 5Oct. Hilda invited Micheal, Pablo and Lori to the celebration of Day of the children in her village. Lori was ill, so I went instead. She took us 3 to the village which took a total of 3 buses which she has to take each time she comes to work. It took about an hour. Then it was onto the church hall, where we listened to the pastor preach. Later, Lette and some of her sisters and loads of school kids put on a show of singing and dancing. It really was lovely. At the end the villagers insisted on feeding us. It was so nice of them and the food was lovely.
That evening, a few came from the hostel on Sunday and we ate together and played table futbol. Hilda one of the staff came too.

Monday. 06 Oct: Started class. I like my teacher but there is no energy in the class. I start to wane about 30 minutes into it, as does she. I think having class in the afternoon is no good. I am learning but she is going over things I have learned but just can’t remember. I need to study more. We had one interesting class though. An ex president had just been arrested in Mexico and it was in the newspaper. He had stolen millions about 10 years ago but had escaped. However, it didn’t appear that he would be handed over anytime soon and if he was the indications were he would get off. Guatemalan politics are soooo corrupt.

Monday. 13Oct: Francisco, Pablo and Marco often end up cooking in a group. Lori joined them first and now I have. The group is growing and sometimes it is smaller.
I went to another school, this time the Mayan school. The class is so much more interesting and there is an energy between us. It also starts in the morning and gives me time to study in the afternoons and do my homework .

Another Mexican called Cesar has joined the hostel group. He is a great cook and has joined the group. Everyone seems to be enamored with him. He is very sociable. The groups for dinner have grown sometimes to 16.

I met this lovely German girl in the hostel and she wanted to go to one of the local indigenous markets in a town called another town called Momostenango.

12October: On Sunday, we got the 8.30 bus and landed in the thick of it. It was heaving with all sorts. A lot of indigenous come to this market and the area is renowned for its blankets and weavings. . I wanted to buy a blanket. However, there weren’t as many as I thought but finally found one I wanted. The lady wanted 200Q for it, but I wanted to offer only 160. She would only go down to 175, so I walked away to think about it. I could find no other so went back. She offered me 160 immediately. So I gave her 165. She was delighted and allowed me to take her photo. She was such a lovely lady. I shoed her the photo and she showed it to her friend and they had a laugh over it. They don’t see many photos of themselves so were well chuffed to see them.

I ended up buying a few other things too elsewhere, like a wall hanging and some scarves.
We ate at a little street vendors and they were delighted with the novelty of serving foreigners. The food was a great homemade soup, a plate of rice, chicken and salad and a cup of coffee. All for approx 10Q. Bargain.

We passed this butchers stall, and the guy behind asked us to take a photo and started posing. It was such a laugh. So we took a photo of the ladies there too and showed them it.
Once we had exhausted the market, we went off in search of the cemetery. It was peaceful place on the top of a hill. The headstones and tombs were a rainbow of colour. We took photos of the cemetery and the pleasant view, then got the bus home.

16October; Loris Birthday, a few of us went shopping for the food in the market etc. and then spent several hours cooking. We we bought a pañeta. Basically this is a paper mache toy see the bear in the foto. It is filled with sweets and the birthday girl/boy has to bash the living daylights out of it, until the sweets are released and scattered to the floor. It was a great party and the Mexicans cooked up a stonking "mole" (Mexican speciality, Meat with Chocolate sauce and spices). Delicious. Later we all went on to a local dive bar.

20Oct. Cesar wanted to go back to Mexico for the day of the dead and to sort some items out so I went along with him as I always wanted to see the day of the dead and thougth it woudl be cool to go with a Native.

I said my goodbyes to the gang in Xela. Hoever, I figured I would be back. I so love Xela.

Mexico 20Oct-12Nov: Visting places I had no intention of visiting but am here anyway..Mexico City

Cesar and I left Guatemala early and arrived in Mexico city the next day after taking a night bus from Tuxla. At the border with Guatemala and Mexico, we met this polish couple, Krystian and Joanna. We had a lovely chat with them They seemed really nice

When we arrived in Mexico city, we got the metro from the bus station and we hit Zucolo first. This is the main Central Plaza in the city and the cathedral and government offices are here. It is an amazing place. They were just setting up the different offerings for the day of the dead. Also there was a lot of activity in the centre. There were shamen/witch doctors blessing people and Aztec dancers in full regalia, dancing to drums. It was bedlam but fun. We stayed the night in hostel cathedral. It was a nice enough hostel and was right in the centre and useful to get to the bus station. We tried to get into the Mexican wrestling but were too late, so we went to this really nice restaurant on a terrace overlooking the Zucolo. The setting was beautiful , the food was great and not too expensive.

Next day we headed to Patzcuaro. This town is famous for its day of the dead celebrations. When we got there we met this Argentinian girl (Florencia) and we all decided to share a room to keep costs down. We booked into this nice pension.

Patzcuaro, had a few markets all with loads of stalls selling everything. However, the most common were paraphenalia for day of the dead. Mostly sweets. There were loads of skulls made from sugar and colourfully decorated. In tandem, there were loads of skeletons based on designs by Diego Rivera and other famous Mexican artists. The crafts were amazing and beautiful.

One night we met this Australian chap and he came with us to this village, that is famous for making guitars. It has so many shops making guitars and sometimes other instruments. After a few days though, Cesar was beginning to annoy me so I left and went back to Mexico city.

I had only intended to go back to sort my flights to South America but ended up staying 2 weeks as the city was so captivating. I booked back into the hostel we had stayed in our first night.

I walked most days to different areas. There are so many beautiful buildings. My favourite is the Belle Artes. It was as amazing inside, as outside as there are amazing murals inside by some of the most famous Mexican artists.

I got museum fever and each day I went to a few museums. My favourites were the Frida Kahlo house, where Frida had been born, raised and had also lived there with her famous artist husband Diego Rivera. They have left their indellible mark on the city. Some of the paintings they had done of each other were on display. The house had been left pretty much as she had left it.

She and her husband had been friends and had put up Leon Trotsky when he was on the run from Stalin until she had an affair with him and he had to move out with his wife. The Trotskys moved into another house but they were not there long before he was murdered by some communist artists on Stalins wishes. The Trotksy story was a very sad one. Most of his family had been murdered in Russia and was continuously on the run. I think one of the happiest times in his life was when he lived in Frida Kahlo´s house .
In the 20s and 30s Mexican artists were leading the way in Fresco art. Some of the murals by several artists are dotted around Mexico city. I saw a small fraction of them but it certainly gave me a taste for more. Diego Rivera´s art was very intellectual and political. His art had so many hidden and not so hidden meanings as well as being visually stimulationg and beautiful. His art graced many a public building, as the Mexican goverment at the time was pro socialist. I definitly think that we have been deprived of Latin American art in Europe. I have rarely seen much at home. However, it is plentiful, diverse and incredible, what I have seen so far.

Mexico City seems to see lots of protests. I got to see a few while I was there. There is a lot of anger against the government in the Chiapas region and they want land reforms. The government keeps promising but doesn´t deliver much.

Along the most historic road, built a few centuries ago, there was an art exhibition. Various paper mache sculptures (Mexico is famous for this art form) were displayed and accesible to all. They were huge and it was a great item to bring the kids to. You could see loads of kids loving them.

I saw a crowd gather around some street perfomers. The lead performer was in his late 20s and was a bit of an actor/comedian. He did a whole show just walking around making fun of various things. He was then joined by his colleague. The level of gymnastics and strenght was amazing. Their sense of balance was just unbelieveable. Here there are performing one of their feats. I saw them perform several days after that. Each day they were surrounded by huge crowds.

The day of the dead is the 31st October. It is a very important date for many ancient cultures here. But I could see similarities with some of the celebrations we have at home for Halloween or at least in the old days. Here though they make fun of the dead and it is a happy occasion.

Throughout the city are various offerings. Basically they create a display with a theme of death and... e.g. Cinema etc. The traditional flowers they use are something very similar, if not the same to our Marigolds. This gives a very vivid yellow colour everywhere. Sometimes a family will create an offering for a loved one. They will add the favourite foods and cigarettes etc. On the actual day of the dead, families go to the graveyard and sit around the grave of the departed and sing thier favourite songs, bring favourite foods etc. It is a bit of a party, and not the sad affair we associate with death in Europe.

Around the central square in Mexico city, a lot of kids and even adults were dressed up and walking around in their costumes.

Some of the costumes were absolutely stunning. Some people even dressed their dogs. I spent most of my evenings walking around the central plaza, looking at the different costumes, trying different street food and drinks. It was such a party atmosphere.

A few days after coming, this lady called Sue moved into my dorm. We hit it off immediately. She is from England and we had the most deep, yet funny discussions. She made friends with a few others through a tour she did and then I made friends with some of them too and met others along the way. Before long we had a little family going and used to meet for breakfast and dinner. We were a diverse group aged between 23 and 57. But age was not relevant. That is what I loved about them. I really hope to meet Sue again. Then there was Ron from the US, Anne from Aus, Asi from Isreal and Ramon from Mexico. And one girl Natalia, lives in Bogota and I hope we can meet. We had many intellectual and silly discussions us lot and much humour and laughter.

One night I went to this salsa club with a few of the gang. I ran in to the polish couple, Krystian and Joanna, that I had met coming across the border from Guatemala. How small a world is that. We hung out for a short while and chatted and became facebook friends.

However, I got foodpoisoning after some ice, which laid me up for a few days. So this meant I had to stay a bit longer.

I went to Oximilco, rated as the Mexican answer to Venice. It is a series of canals and there are gondolas etc taking tourists around and bands singing to those same tourists from other boats. I got stung price wise as I was the only one there at that time, so had to take a boat by myself. balls. Still it was nice.

I really think that mexico is one of the most beautiful, amazing cities I have been in. I really want to come back.

After 2 weeks, in Mexico city I concluded it was back to Xela. I couldn´t find cheap flights from Mexico down to South America so would have to find alternatives and it would be nice to see the gang.

Guatemala, and places time has forgotten.

From Cuba, I got on the plane to Honduras. By the time I had finished my flight to the Panama City I had a cold that was escalating. At San Pedro Sula airport, I got a nice taxi man to take me to the hostel; I had been in, before going to Cuba. Next day, I got into a taxi to realise I had asked to go to the bus station. I didn’t know which one so told him I needed to go to the border. Well he was so kind and suggested I get this bus just a little bit away. He waited in the taxi for me and hailed the correct bus. Then after I told that bus driver, where I was going, he later shouted down a bus passing us, so that I didn’t have to go to the terminal. In the middle of the street my bag was whisked off one bus and both it and I were on our way to Corinto.

I was making excellent time and had saved so much by not having to wait at any of the bus terminals. However, just as I was congratulating myself, it all went pear shaped. The driver forgot to tell me to get off at the right stop to change for Puerto Barrios. So I was then dumped on the main road at some bus stop to get back to where I was supposed to get off.. Of course the bus took ages to come. I then got to the little town I needed. I had no breakfast or water. So took this as an opportunity to stop and eat. This of course delayed me further. Anyway I arrived at 2.30pm in Puerto Barrios, several hours after I wanted to be there so missed the ferry. But, it was ok, I had got through the border to Guatemala and I was in plenty of time to take a lancha, (a quicker motor boat) to Livingstone, which was quite cool.

After an hour boat ride I was there. Of course being the only foreigner, I was pounced on. This elderly gent wanted to help me find a hostel. For commission I assume. I had no idea where to go. AND to BOOT I was ill as hell. The cold, I had acquired on the flight from Cuba had graduated to a fever cum headache and I was in no mood to be railroaded. So I said I had no idea where I was going probably more rudely than I meant to but... I just wanted to think and be left in peace to do so. I just rushed to the nearest cafe for sanctuary. I decided I couldn’t bear the main backpacker scene and just wanted a room to myself to sleep... I arrived at the Hotel Rio Dulce, a beautiful yellow painted colonial hotel. One of the guys sitting around in the lobby was particularly friendly and started chatting. He just happened to have been in Dublin last week. Within 5 minutes of arriving I was offered a foot massage. I JUST WANTED TO SLEEP. I said this and it was a great way of getting out of a tricky situation.

I went to my new room and slept til the next day. I was not well. Crap! Next day I got up late and wandered around looking for fresh orange juice and food. It is a nice town but lots of friendly men. In the hostel, that evening I was desperate for a fresh orange juice. So the bar man prepared one. I went to bed.

Next day I thought I will get up and sleep in the hammock after food. Well kindly barman comes up so I wake up and he pulls up a chair. He was a nice chap and not pushy but just picked up a towel and had it on his knee and about to take my foot before I realised I was about to get a foot massage. Hmm obviously foot massages are big here. Well i intoned I was really ill, still with a fever and just wanted to sleep. Bless him, he didn’t push it and left me snooze which I did for another few hours. God I am sleeping like the dead. This fever has totally wiped me out.

Later I went wandering in town and met this great Mexican lady with GREAT food. She has worked in many places and was married to an Indian man for a while, so learned how to cook Indian food. Various people came in and I recommended my food and had some nice chats with some other Mexicans and a couple of English girls to boot. So far every Mexican I have met has been lovely.

I really wanted to go to some Garifuna music but my body wasn’t up to it so er em I went to bed. I think I am awake for all of 6 or 8 hours per day.

My 4th day in Livingstone and I have not seen any of the sights. So I wandered around a bit more. I went for breakfast at this little sandwich place and ended up taking to this rather amazing gent. He was from Livingstone but went to the US in his teens. Now, retired from the police force, he had returned. He owned the hotel next to where I was sitting. He had funded the sandwich shop I was eating at and basically was financing the locals to set up businesses on the street I was on and around town. He was trying to create a little bit of a restaurant and hotel area and make it a bit of a haven from the bar area. He was succeeding. It was really lovely.

He was also in the neighbourhood watch, which he had set up. He himself patrolled that evening between midnight and 6am. Many of the criminally intent come over from Honduras and Belize, which are only an hour or so away, to steal boat motors etc. According to Lonely planet, Livingstone is apparently a bridge for many drug traffickers although these tend to leave the tourists alone. It also and I quote “Some areas… had a bad reputation for some years, but some locals “took care” of the trouble makers (we don’t want to know the details)” unquote….

Well as our conversation progressed, I realized I may be speaking to one of “those locals”. As I was chatting, this Canadian, now living in Livingstone for about 5 years joined us. And the caht contineud on things that had goen down in Livingstone. Apparently lat night soem guys from Belize and come over and stole a lancha including the motor. This is someones livelyhood. I was not sure if they were caught. But apparently Belize is only 20min way.

The Canadian then asked about the pirate murders. Huh!! Have I stepped back in time. Apparently there were 5 pirates working River Dulce. This area has loads of yachts with wealthy tourists attached. And the pirates are hitting these. A few weeks ago some of these pirates boarded this American couples yacht. The man would not cooperate so they shot and killed him. However, 3 of the pirates were later caught and killed and the other 2, a mother and son, the buyers, had been imprisoned. Quick justice! I guess!
But as all good converstations have to end, so too had this one. I said my goodbyes.

I felt a lot better, so next day I arranged a lancha to Finca Tatin. A very small cabin indigenous type "hotel" on the river bank. I was still wrecked from the fever, so holed up there for an expensive 3 days. It is very isolated, so all food has to be eaten there. But there is a communal dinner each night which was nice and where I met a few nice people. One night I went on a night walk through the jungle right behind the hostel. It was a nice walk and we saw a few creepy spiders in their rather large webs but it was a bloody expensive 45min. Shorter and a hell of a lot less interesting than I was imagining. Nice but could. have skipped it.

I rented a canoe for half a day to try to get to this nature reserve but after paddling upstream for over an hour, I thought better of it. So I went to the hot spring which was a bit of a pond sectioned off from the river, into which some hot water flowed. I was in no mood to expose my bikini clad body to the 4 male staff nearby or the passing boat traffic. I settled for a tour of the cave instead. Could have skipped that too. Oh well! I really enjoyed the canoe though and I managed to paddle back in about 20 min.

That afternoon, some of the other guests were jumping off this swing into the river so had a go at that. During my time there I got to read an amazing book on global warming, which pretty much frightened the crap out of me as to what is happening climate wise.

I took the morning Lancha along the Rio Dulce to the town of Rio Dulce. The trip lasted a few hours and went to a crafts shop. The river scenary was impressive and attention grabbing. A superb gorge and river boats adding to the experience.

At River Dulce, I booked the next bus to Flores which gave me time for lunch. Five hours later I was in Flores. In the major backpacker hostel Amigos. However, it was lovely. The guy who runs it is vegetarian and pretty politically minded. He has a host of DVDs with documentarys on very left wing topics. I watched a few of Norm Chomskys. Riveting stuff on US and it international terrorist acts. The US has done viscious stuff in total contravention of International law.

I booked into "Amigos" because I wanted to find peopel to go on teh 5 day hike to El Mirador. A very out of the way set of temples located in the middle of the Guatemala jungle, literally miles from anything. No roads, just jungle. I spoke to the one of the staff and in 5 minutes i was put in touch with 4 chaps tryign to do the same thing. So I figured I may not get an other opportuinity to do it if i didn´t go tomorrow. Bit rushed but I dolled out my dollars and got rid of my travellers checks. I went shopping for snacks etc with the boys. They seem pretty a cool bunch 2 guys from Paris (Charles and Edouard), One German (Julian) and 1 Isreali (Maor).

Next day we met at 6am, we were off. We got driven to the nearest village and after that, we were alone with our 2 guides. one walking withthe 5 of us, the other to take the mules carrying large containers of water, food and our stuff. I was wary of being with 4 fit guys all in theri early twenties. but it was fine. I was more than able to keep up. Lucky for me, most of the walk over the next few days was on the flat. We waked for miles through what appeared more like a forest than a jungle, but jungle it was as we saw various species of exotic birds and even a snake. And bet of all we heard the howler monkeys, which howled like ferocious lions but were only 2 feet long.

Our guide carried our lunch which consisted of bread and Jam etc. I had been told my wheat problem would be taken care of but no. Most of our food was pasta and bread. Lucky I had snacks. After 7 or so hours of pretty rapid walking we arrived at camp. Pretty primitive. We ate our chicken dish by candlelight, played cards and eventually went to sleep in our tents. The guides slept on hammocks with mosquito nets. I had a tent to myself being the only girl. The nights were a little chilly but not much.

Next morning at dawn, we arose, ate and walked another 7 hours. That evening we were in a workers camp. Many indigenous come here to collect chipotle from trees. This makes chewing gum. They make cuts in the trees and the chipotle oozes out and they gather this. We tried some and it really is like chewing gum.

The toilet was a wooden construction, with a hole in it AND with a wooden toilet seat. Ah the comfort. This was surrounded by walls of heavy plastic and about 5 minutes from camp. It was kind of creepy walking through the jungle in sheer blackness with just a flashlight but pretty amazing too. You could hear the monkeys howling and moving through the trees around you. You just had to be careful of walking into spiders etc.

Next day we set off early for our second day of 7 hours. At our second camp, we ate and played cards etc. again. By the time we were ready to sleep, the guides were chatting with the Chipotle workers and were nowhere to be found. There were only 2 tents out. The French dissapeared into one of them and Julian dissapeared into the other. Only Maor noticed I had no tent.I was not too keen needless to say to sleep outside a tent but I found my only other option, a wooden bed under some canvas and went hunting for some mosquito net to keep the various insects off me. I found one wrapped in hammock and started to try to hang it from the ceiling. Maor bless him helped me but as I moved the bed from the wall of the canvas, I found a huge tarantula and a scorpion to boot. All my good intentions of sleeping on the bed evaporated. There was no way I could sleep ina place where very large spiders and worse scorpions could bite me. Maor my angel offered me room in his tent with him and Julian. So I tried to sleep in their tent. It was not the best nights sleep I had. However, it was safe from insects and vampire bats.

Next day, Julian, Maor and I wanted to see the sunrise. So Julian woke the guides for directions. We got up in time but the French were slow. Julian was getting irriated at their inability to move quickly. Sunrise is so quick here you really have to get to where you are going in the dark. The French didnt know where it was so wanted us to wait. With Julian in front and me last, we carried on. The French lagging behind and me trying to mediate trying to follow Julian but pausing long enough for the French to see us. Why I bothered I dont know. At the top of the temple there was an atmosphere. We arrived at light not in the darkness. Not quite the way to do it. Julian and I were dissapointed and the French were just plain grumpy especially Eduard. Still it was so beautiful.

The temple was on a mound and pretty high up so you could see for miles around. It was just miles and miles and miles of trees, forest, jungle. Green as far as the eye could see with the odd plant strewn stone temple sticking out in the distance. It was breathtaking with the mists rising out of the green.

Later at breakfast, I felt really bad. Our guides had put my tent up but away from the others. What was worse, was I had used one of their mosquito nets for my wooden bed and the guide thought it was being used so didnt take it. I just felt so bad. But I guess next time they might show the stupid travellers where things are, so they can find them in the blackness.

We were introduced to the El Mirador guide who was to show us the various ceremonial sites. It was wonderful not to have to fight for space and to have the place to ourselves. We could sit for as long as we choose or go quickly. Our guid showed us the arbol de Amor. These are trees that grow very close together and are called trees of love. The were pretty tall and thinn but impressive. Later the guide showed us this amazing face careved intot eh stone. It had been partially reconstructed and painted in the original colours so you could see all the face and detail. It was udner wraps and were werent supposed to see it.

We wandered around for some hours climbing temples etc. It was a fairly special place, made all the better as it was diffiucult to get to and not many did it.

That night, we thought we will get in time for the sunset. So we set off this time in full light. The mood was much improved due to the rather great day we had and as we had several hours to calm down. We took in the view and just chilled waiting for dark, each in our private world. This time it was more spiritual.

Although it did get kind of creepy towards dark. There are many stories according to the guides of people sleeping on the temple and hearing voices etc. According to the Mayan, these are the voices of the long dead Mayan, who are non too pleased to have anyone sleeping on their sacred temples and even throw pebbles at the trespassers. I read about one bunch of travellers who had a similar experience, when they slept here. It was superb though, to be the only non Mayan there. Just 5 of us on top of the temple which felt like being on top of the world. The sounds of the jungle surrounding us, especially the Howler Monkeys, howling their lungs out in the black night. You really felt like you were in the jungle, somewhere special. We came down pretty quickly once darkness set in.

Next day it was the start of the ardous trek home. Our guide did show us some tombs etc. on the way.

Food was more limited and was pasta again. My energy levels high at the start were beginning to wane due to the wheat. I could feel myself falling behind. Maor was too but he was just getting bored of the view of trees and more of the same trees.

That evening we arrived back at our first camp. We were hot and stinking dirty after 4 days of walking without showers or a hint of water on our bodies. There was a stagnant pond near the camp, so we stood on a shaky platform and lowered a bucket into the water to use to wash ourselves and our clothes. The water was quite brown but we didn´t dare go into the pond, as there were lots of strange things lurking in it that popped up every now and then . The guides didn´t go in either strangely enough. It looked like something from prehistory. We were all having a great laugh and playing cards, when Eduard got in a grump and started an argument over some card rules. The rest of us were just chilled but he went off on one and that was the end of the card game. I really liked the other 3 but he was beginning to be painful. We would all be having a lovely conversation in English, which we all understood and then Eduard would start speaking French to Charles and that would be it. They would continue in French. Charles was a lovely chap and was fluent in German, so had chats with Julian when walking etc or was goofy with Maor with whom he got on like a house on fire, as if they had know each other for years. He was also better at English and Spanish than Eduard and loved to talk in any Language.

I think Eduard was jealous and just wanted Charles to himself. It was an odd and unfriendly situation. Later when I mentioned that maybe it would be nice to give a tip, it was Eduard who said we had paid enough for the trip and didnt want to give anymore. Charles went along with Eduard but I feel he would have gone along with us, if Eduard had not said anything. I said that was his choice but the guides were not the ones who received much of our money or choose the food.

The last day was a real struggle for Maor who was soo bored and lagging behind. I lent him my ipod as his had run out and he had shared his speakers with us. HE was grateful and perked up.

However, about 3 hours towards the end the bottom of my boots separated from my heel. Our guid e suggested putting some rope around. That helped but it kept slipping. I limped well behind with the guide for the last part. The boys shot ahead. At the village where we were to be picked up, I b ought some beer for the guides and that was that we were delived by truck back at our hostel. It was first to the showers and then a good sized meal from Los Amigos. Julian, Maor and I sat down near the french but again Eduard tried to speak in french. I really dont want to have any more to do with him. Neither did Julian. We left. He seemed to be nicer to Maor, so he stayed.

It was soo good to go to bed. Next day I just sat, read or watched DVDS and rested and didnt even go outside the hostel. It was nice to take a day off.

Next day I organised the sunrise tour to Tikal. One of the most famous if not THE most famous Mayan temple site in Central America.

I had to get up at 3am and by 4.30 we were at the site in pitch darkness. My head torch that I had brought specially for such occasions, MALFUNCTIONED. It was a struggle to turn it on and then it just flashed. So I kept it low to the ground. There were quite a few people at the site. Maybe a hundred. So different from El Mirador. I had hoped to do them in reverse.

We got to the temple and the head of the Tikal site told us that he had just won the right to continue doing the sun rise tours but there was a risk all the time that the powers that be would stop permitting them. Climbing the temple took about 10 minutes. It is a tall one. We all sat at the top waiting for the sunrise. I had been warned that it would be misty so had no expectations. Others I think were dissapointed. The director at one point told us to be quiet as there was too much noise. He reminded people this was a temple, a sacred place. We could hear the howler monkeys again and then a family of these racoon creatures came by. They were so cute but apparently viscious. Our guide was an amazing character. Really knowledgeable and entertaining. He had many funny anecdotes and kept us enthralled til 8am. One of the workers came up to him and showed him a tarrantula which we got to take a foto of.

Some of the temples you can just climb up others have a stairs constructed to the side. One of these was incredibly steep and various people struggled on the way down as they could then see how far they had climbed. That slowed things down a bit. Lol.

The place was phenomenal though, even with all the tourists. I was able to wander around by myself once the tour had ended. At one stage I came across another guide, showing a caiman (sort of like a small crocodile) sunbathing itself near the lake. Even got some photos.

I took another nights rest before heading to my next destination Lanquin. I met 2 girls Anne and Adi in the hostel and they were on the same shuttle. It was about 8 hours there but some nice views. At one stage our mini bus had to get on this wooden raft type thing and be ferried across the river by this small motor. It seemed a nice little town from the colours of the houses and the little motor boats ferrying people across the river.

At Lanquin, we tried to get into El Retiro. This hostel has loads of little cabins and a restaurant ina wonderful setting by the river and is usually booked solid every day. We didnt arrive till 4pm, I got lucky and got the last bed but the girls managed a hammock each but were actually really pleased with this, as it was cheaper.

I ended up spending 5 days here. It was great to jsut have a rest and read and chill. At the start it was a bit clique with too many Isrealies but then the non Isrealies or Isrealies who didnt want to hang out with other Isrealies found each other. One of the barmen was Irish then I met another guest from Dublin and his friends. A German girl, and American with English parents and this 60 something Psychologist. They were a brilliant gang and the conversations were riveting. I also met this guy called Guillaume, of a French mother and an English father but brought up all over, mostly in India. He was trying to start a business in Guatemala, as he really didn't fancy living in England. I found his perspectives really interesting and we had some good chats.

On my third day, I went on the tour to the National park in Samuc Champey.We were driven there in this jeep along a pretty rough dirt track. We passed this other truck doing the same tour. I have nevr seen such a packed truck. We all had to take a foto adn they took one of us.
The first stop was Cuevos de Marias. This are underground caves, through which he local river runs. We had to carry candles or overhead torches. As my over headtorch broke, it was candle time. We followed our guide through pretty cold water, often upto or past or heads, although most was waist deep. It was fun. Then it was off to the swing. A rope had been tied to a tree and we all got to swing into the racing river, after that, it was into the inner tubes of tracktors and we floated with the current towards a designated spot. Then it was onto the bridge. We were supposed to jump off this bridge into the river. I couldnt do it. It was just too high. I was dissapointed but wasnt the only one to renege.

Then it was Le Piece de resistance. The Samuc Champey park itself. I followed the path to the Mirador (Look out point). I wasnt going to but thought, I might regret it. Oh my god I would have been devastated if I had missed it. The view of the pools below was absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. I stayed a while to take it all in then I wandered off to take a dip. It was pretty cool to jump[ in but it was cold too. Lucky the weather had improved.

At one point under the pools, the river is forced underground. In the rainy season, i.e. now, the water is a cauldron and anyone falling in, falls to their immediate death. I was apparently getting to near and I heard a whistle. Security showed me where to go and not to go. I met this young French student (Julian), studying ecology etc. here in Guatemala. He has no camera, so I obliged and took some fotos and promised to send them.

Later, our guide took us to the point where the river escapes its underground path. We had to climb down this rope ladder about 7 feet, with water pouring down after and on top of us. It was a bit dicey. Our guide did it by herself and tested the ladder, then helped all of us with the water lashing against her. Respect was well due. It was amazing to see the water surging out from underground. There was still a gap between the river and the cave ceiling. But there was a tree lodged at the top that had been deposited at a higher water level. . The river at times reaches the ceiling. Unreal. No photos as there was too much water. I should have got a disposable waterproof camera for these occasions... bummer.

I got so blue I was allowed up in the first batch. I seem to be feeling the cold really badly, more than anyone else.

Got back to El Retiro in time for dinner. Hung out on the Veranda with some ISrealis that were singing and playing guitar. It was really lovely and they were a lovely bunch. I had been swinging in the hammock and one of them sat to the side of me and was using his foot to swing me. I thougt he was just doing it for somethign to do with his feeet. But then I realised he was making a move. Oh bless. He was only 24. Nipped that in the bud.

Lazed around again and chatted to Julian. We met these Aussies and spent a few hours going down in the current of the river running alongside El Retiro. Cold but cool. Julioan and I walked to the bat cave around 5pm. It is a huge cave system but we only went a little in. We were there to see the bats (About a million of them) leave the cave at sunset. It was a bit scattered though as there were too many people using cameras with their flash, so it was confusing the bats. Security came to the rescue and then we took a few photos. There were a LOT of bats. Superb!

We went up to Lanquin village with some Aussies, who had found this great cheap taco place for dinner.

25September.
I took the long way, apparently the more scenic route to Nebaj from Lanquin.
I got on the bus about 8.30 in Lanquin but we circled the town looking for more customers for an hour. Finally I got to Coban, where I took the bus to Sacupulas and then to Nebaj. By the time I got to Nebaj, it was raining from the heavens. I got fairly wet. I tried to put my plastic cape over me and my bag but only succeeded in covering my front. I got a little moto taxi to take me to the hostel. He had no idea of where it was,, so rang the number from his mobile. You can tell you are not in a tourist town. I was charged such a cheap fare and not for the call. I gave a tip.

The hostel is cold as is everywhere in Nebaj. I am in the mountains. It is COLD here and very very wet. I have no closed shoes. I am freezing. Heating is not something that is an option here. The hostel is basic and I am the dorm of 10 beds alone. there is one other guest, I have not met.

I hung my clothes from various beds in the vain hope they might dry. I wandered into town to get food, then interneted for a short while and then to bed I think I read. It must have been 8pm. Oh my god how early is that.

26September.
Awake before dawn. At breakfast, some Mayan arrived to talk to the owner. One of them introduced himself as Victor. He belongs to a cooperative and wanted to show me it so I can tell others about it and maybe organise funding etc. OR I guess donate... He spoke Spanish. The owner had given 2 rabbits to Victor for his kids. So I carried them for him so I could pet them. They were so cute. I was taken to his home and met his wife and kids. He showed me the laptop that someone had given them. About 50 kids now have access to this computer for homework etc. They are trying to buy a mouse for it. He showed me a book and some letters, fotos from other westerners who were helping the cooperative. It is mostly a women's cooperative. Victor seems to be the spokes man. Many people here do not speak Spanish only their own mayan language.

I met the director and the secretary of the group as well. He showed me the fields they were working on. They plan cauliflower and many other vegetables as well as keep chickens. I took details and later asked the hostel owner about it. He seems to help the local community a lot and has been in Nebaj for 7 and in Guatemala for a total of 21. So was here during all the troubles. I think he has seen a lot.

Later, that evening, I went to the local cooperative cafe, set up by 2 peace corp volunteers. I met Adi and Anne, whom I had met in Flores and travelled with to Lanquin. They were here to learn Spanish. It was nice to see them.

27September.

I awoke before dawn. As seems to be normal now. At breakfast, I met the other guest. He introduced himself as Amenon. Amenon is here for a month. Volunteering with an agency working with identifying massacre victims and returning the identified bodies to the families. He explained that the agency and he as part of that, interviews the families of those that were massacred. This helps locate the bodies. Although very often, people don't remember exactly where the murders happened or the trauma has wiped their brains of details. It can take a series of interviews etc. After the bodies are located or an approximate area has been identified. He and his colleagues dig up the area, this often involves digging multiple places due to inaccurate information. Once located, the body is exhumed, and sent for a post-mortem and DNA investigations to Guatemala city. Once that is complete. The body is finally given back to the family for reburial in the traditional Mayan or Christian way.

He often attends the whole process. He said that in a few months time, they will have 50 bodies in the one month to locate etc. At the moment, he was working on a case where the grandmother, her daughter and granddaughter were all killed in their home over 10 years ago. It took three days to locate the bodies on this occasion and they were to be buried this week, finally. This must be very emotional but it provides closure for so many families. I think if my spanish was so much better this is something I would like to do.

During the war/unrest, in the 80s especially, the army and various private thugs working for landowners or large companies killed thousands. It is only in the recent years that anything has been done to try to identify bodies or locate missing persons etc. Albeit not with much help fromt eh government. Facilities were few and also people were afraid or traumatised or had run away to other towns or countries and have only now come back. I was amazed at what Amenon was doing. But he had been in the army so I guess, he was more prepared than many others would be.

We spoke about memory. Many of the interviews are inaccurate. My take on it is that on occasions when something is traumatic, like a crime etc. The memory can deteriorate rapidly. Which is why the police try to get a statement as soon as possible from witnesses/victims etc. From his experience, he thought that trauma would make the event even more clear and unforgettable. His theorised, that preseding psychology of the person would dictate the memory. Up to a point I agree but I think it all interplays . I explained about Sues bag being taken in Havana and how both of us struggled to remember exactly what clothes the boys wore, as the day wore on. I got the impression that he thought he would always remember no matter what and that it was a weakness in others if they didn't remember. I thought this was a very narrow view, even arrogant. But he was a bit up his own arse. We agreed to leave it, as it depends on the person and how traumatic.. That kind of ended the conversation.

It was market day. The town was really buzzing. Hundreds of local Mayan in traditional dress had arrived. I got waylaid by a local, asking the usual questions like where do you come from etc. Most locals, don't approach you, so I new something was coming. In this case, he took out a photocopy of a page from the rough guide or something indicating he was a brilliant local guide. After haggling, I was taken on a short tour of the town.

Casper, as he was called, brought me to the cemetery, there he showed me a monument and the grave of 1200 people who had been massacred. Most of the graves were small wooden/iron crosses. It is all many can afford. Some were larger tombs. It had been built in Jun 2008. I think they may have been bodies exhumed, identified and reburied. A short distance, we went to another cemetery. Here were 2 cement structures about the size of a medium to large bedroom. At the first hut, my guide opened the wooden door. It took me a few moments to realise what it was. The room was full of small crosses. There were some Mayan people praying, crying and offering gifts inside. Candles had been lit, as had incense. I realised it was a mass grave. I didn't go in or take a foto as suggested. An insensitive suggestion I think. This was private and should be left so. This apparently was a grave for adults. I was then shown the other room, a grave of many children. A cross for each child. There were a lot of crosses.

A 5 minute walk away, another memorial for another massacre. But here the bodies had not been identified or at least not all. Another hut housed the crosses for 300 children killed and buried here together.

The reality of war is much more raw here. There is a lot of mass burials. For some there will be no closure, no identified body, to place a candle or a flower beside. What is worse, is that some families don't know if their child or loved one escaped or was kidnapped. Some children were sent for adoption to other countries, the US especially. Some families will never find out. It must be a terrible thing to bear. Although it is hard to find out someone is dead, at least you know and have closure.

At the market, much was on the streets. I loved it. So many beautiful costumes. Many of the men especially the older ones wore their straw hats or cowboy hats. Before meeting Casper, I had seen 30 or so, mostly men queuing up round the block of some building. It was an amazing sight. So many straw hats. I was itching to take a foto but the amateur photographer is still fighting the idea of the tourist voyeur. I asked about it later and I was told it was most likely men who had fought on the side of the government. The government hired a lot of mayans to spy on their own people and they still receive some remittance. Not of course those who really suffered because of it.

Cuba, a dream come true. Aug 10 to Sep 04

10Aug

Finally I have arrived in Cuba. I have wanted to come here for so long. Bizarrely, I landed before Sue did, so I was able to greet her when she landed rather than the other way around as we had expected.

It was funny as loads of Cubans and tour operators were greeting the new people and there was I shouting Sues name like I was a native. ha ha We had a laugh about it.

We got a taxi to our Casa Particular. However, we had to wait a few hours before we got to enter our room. If we had known, we could have gone earlier for food. Then we found out that the casa didnt serve food on Sundays. We were directed to a cafe a little way away. However, it was just sandwiches or sandwiches. Not a good start. I had already had a few days where I had eaten pasta or bread, so eating more was going to play havoc with my body. But I was starving. The gent behind the counter was very friendly and chatted to us. Of course, he offered his services as a guide. This was indicative of things to come. Later, 2 gentlemen invited us over to their table to join them for a drink. One spoke English, Jesus and seemed quite taken with Sue. It was difficlut to extricate ourselves from their company and offers of taking us out. However, we said we would ring Jesus, (oh my god that looks so bizarre written down) if we found the time to do so. We scuttled off giggling. Sue is such a man puller.

It was so good to sleep, having been deprived of so much of it over the last few days. Oh the sheer bliss.

11Aug

We had a lovely breakfast served to us in the littlecourtyard outside our room. Fruit, bread, juice and eggs. I declined the bread. It was a lovely start to the day and the couple who run the casa are just the most adorable, genteel, helpful peoole.

We walked around the Plaza de La Revolution. The massive statue of Jose Marti, a beautiful white marble of the poet and icon of pre 20century independance, in thought, dominating the plaza. Across the way, the famous mural of Earnesto "Che" Guevara and his immortal phrase "Hasta La Victoria Siempre". We were really here.

After a visit to the museum and fotos of the views etc. we walked on to the Famous Havana Cemetery. We walked along the wide street to the Cemetario where many martyrs of the struggles before and during the revolution are buried.

It was a pleasant street and the sun was streaming down. I was walking ahead, as I do. I head a murmur behind me and when I looked behind, what I thought I saw was Sue showing her shoulder bag to a young guy and another one was to the left of her. I couldn’t figure out why she was doing that. Then in a sudden rush of realisation, it hit me that sue was trying to hold on to her bag, as this thief was trying to rip it off her. I ran up but it was too late. The shoulder strap just gave as I touched her and the 2 guys rang off to the cemetery. I held Sue back, who had wanted to chase them but my first impulse was to protect her. The thought struck me forcefully that they could punch her in the face or her chest or stomach.

I was shaking and Sue was angry. I was sorry I held her back but some instinct took over before I could stop it. She had a few moments longer to grasp the situation before I realised what happened. I felt absolutely lousy for her. I realised my sugar levels were low and my body was up the creek because of the lack of calories this morning and the bad diet over the last few days was playing even more havoc. If I had been fully aware, I might have been able to help her sooner. But it took so long for my brain to process what was happening. I just felt like crap. She had just lost her bag, her camera, over a hundred pounds, her glasses and a few other things.

She was lucky shedidn´t have her passport etc. But she was suitably shocked and annoyed and shook up. Anything I could say would have be inadequate. It was unbelievable. Havana is one of the safest cities and renowned as such. It was 2.30 in the day, we were on a lovely street, that would normally be busy but just not then. We got ourselves together and continued to walk to the cemetery. We saw some policemen and I tried in my crap Spanish to tell them what had happened after I searched the dictionary for the word Robbed. They seemed totally disinterested in going into the cemetery or following it up. But they did tell us where to go to report it.

We went to the only café we had seen and yet again I had to have a sandwich but I knew I had to eat. This whole wheat problem and trying to find food that was not wheat based was getting to be incredibly tiresome. But we had time to calm down recover from the experience.

We went into the cemetery and I tried to explain to the guard what had happened. I left Sue near the guards and my bag and wandered up to the section of the fence they jumped over, in the vain hope that they had dropped the bag somewhere, so could rescue at least something from the situation. I walked around where I thought it would be. But nothing!
I came back and one of the guards walked with us and then organised that one of the cemetery attendants escort us around. This proved to be a blessing, as it distracted us a little and made us feel a lot safer. He also showed us the graves we were interested in and told us a little about them. He was a lovely chap and told us about his daughter who was going to be a doctor and his son who was going to be a musician, as he felt there was more money in that than medicine. We had to agree sad though it was.

We decided it was best to go to the police station. They kept us waiting for about 30 or so minutes, then we were brought into the office of someone who seemed to be high up. We explained again and he asked us for a complete description of the thieves. It was amazing how our memories had already deteriorated. We did the best we could but there were gaps. Sue tried to remember as much as she could what was in her bag for the police report, so she could claim it back on her insurance.
The bizarrest thing then happened. They put us into a police car and took us to the scene of the crime. There were 3 of them. They took photos of where it happened and then over by the cemetery wall where the absconders had jumped the fence into the cemetery. The purpose of all this was beyond me. We did see the man on the balcony that we were sure saw the whole thing that happened beneath him but the police didn’t bother to question him. They went about their business with the camera work etc. very thoroughly and professionally but it all seemed to be some show for our benefit and totally inappropriate. They barely asked us anything.
Sue and I at least were enjoying the hilarity and adventure of it all and it made the horrid theft a bit less awful.
They then took us home. Whey hey. it is not every day you get driven to your abode in a police car.

Returning to the casa Particular, we regaled the story. They were shocked and very sympathetic and served us a beautiful dinner. I at last was able to eat something that was good for me. The relief was immense. But I still felt lousy for Sue, especially as she remembered more things that had been in her bag.
I had to be more careful in future and get some snacks to keep my sugar levels up especially in case something like this happens again.. I have never been somewhere where it was impossible to get simple snacks. There just weren’t any shops or not with anything worth buying. It was the most bizarre situation.

12Aug
We went looking for china town but were sadly dissapointed with the selection of chinese restaurants. However, we did find a steam engine graveyard which was pretty cool.

We walked around the main plaza with its replica of the US white house a sort of ironic monument to see in Cuba, but there it was. Splendid but so out of context. It was surrounded by other plazas, all with amazing colonial architecture, most of which had been renovated.

The streets were wide and not clogged with traffic as many other grand cities. The array of amazing cadillacs and other classic cars in all conditions, kept my camera snapping. They were just so beautiful and soooo plentiful.

We wandered over to one of the most famous cigar factories in the world. But as luck would have it it was closed for the summer holidays. I mean what are the chances of that. But we wandered into the shop anyway and snapped away. It really was old world.

Getting food was hard. We were unused to the city and were in the wrong place again. So we ended up going to this rather posh hotel, as we thougth it would give us a better variety. Well it sort of did. But even the posh hotels have a very limited menu. Although, we had a nice salad and fresh juice.

The city is amazing. So many buildings, have been renovated but still there are just as many about to crumble from neglect, and as many again that are in the process of renovation. It is easy to see where the money from tourism has gone. I just love being here. However, our happiness is marred by the remaining sense of alertness for another mugging. It is a shame. Still we were enjoying ourselves.

We were on the trail of Ernest hemmingways old haunts, The Mundo hotel, still with his room, as he left it, the last time he stayed. It is now a museum. We didn´t go to the room but did have a cocktail on the roof terrace, as you do. Refreshed, we kept up our wanderings, just mesmerised. Sue said that she found sooo many changes since she was last here, about 7 years ago.. Then the streets were full with locals living street life or parading for fotos in historical costumes. Now there are only a few token people left for the foto opportuinites. The main streets have been cleaned up. hmmm.

Well one the many things Havana is known for, is the fact that Ernest Hemingway played hard there, among many of the rich elite of the 50s and 60s. He went one step further though, and scribbled on the wall, in his favourite bar. "The floridita for my daiquiris and the bodega for my mojitos" This forever put these bars firmly on the path to posterity and mass tourism. So of course we had to go.

Sue and I put our glad rags on and headed there for our pre dinner "Floirita" daiquiris. And yea we took the requisite fotos of the bronze of old ernie standing in his favourite spot at the bar. It is quite lifelike. Fotos of Hemingway line the walls, while the line of mass produced daiquiris line the bar, ready for the hoards of tourists willing to overspend their hard earned CUKs. I won´t say the daiquiri was the best I have had but...

Things have changed a lot since hemingway´s day, thats for sure. But hey it was fun. Today we wandered again into the heart of city. Sue saw these police officers lining up for inspection etc. and decided to join the force. It was priceless. They were so cool and played along with it. They thought it was hillarious and dont you just love Cubans. Although note the er em footless tights. Wouldn´t get that style at home...

TRINIDAD
13Aug. we went to the bus station, The casa owner came with us to protect us while we got money from a local exchange. God bless him you could blow him over with a feather but it was so sweet of him. We got on the bus and arrived in Trinidad to be welcomed by our new Casa. She seemed really lovely. It was not quite the one we booked but... We had a lovely room. We walked around looking for a restaurant. I really wanted to go to one in the book, as I felt I could get more than pasta or pizza. I was so hungry and so fed up with wheat. We couldn’t find the restaurant and my head was hurting so much as I could feel the sugar being drained from it. I could barely process the info on the map. We had to go to some other one. Of course there was limited selection. At least we got something. Later, when I saw a supermarket, I stocked up on raisins and peanuts. Phew at last I had something to snack on.

We walked around Trinidad, an incredibly charming town. Beautiful cobbled streets between magnificent restored buildings with the odd dilapidated grand dame in between. Every street held a new wonder yet again for us. It was also a place you never quite knew what you were going to see. At the church we saw a wedding. It was so elegant and the bride wore red.

That night we had food at our casa. It was superb and so much of it. It is strange though, all the china, furniture is from the 40s and 50s. when it was possible to import things and people had more access to foreign. There is nothing from the 60s, 70s or 80s in our house. Except of course the TV and one or 2 electronics. Usually things are in good condition but the odd chipped cup. Everything is carefully treated. It is like time stood still after the revulution.
14Aug
We took an organized tour to the sugar plantation. Some time ago it was possible to go through the sugar plantation on a train specially built for this purpose but this had ceased to function. I think it was a problem of spare parts. It is not possible to get much here. It was beautiful country side. We go to have a beautiful fresh lemonade though...

Back in town, we went for a coffee near the Casa de Cultura. It was a beautiful sunny square and the cafe were on the steps.
We bargained with a local who asked us if we wanted at taxi to the beach as we had missed the bus. Totally illegal but such good fun and as the legal ones cost a fortune... We were a bit nervous when he stopped to take another guy on. And thought oh god they think they are on to a good thing with 2 girls etc. but no it was all ok. They just went to the beach.
The beach was lovely but limited in food again. Just a greasy hamburger or a greasy hamburger. So we had one of those.
Later we met a Canadian couple waiting for the public bus back to the beach but it didn´t come. So we walked to the tour group hotel. I asked the doorman to get us a taxi. So then this man arrives in a Cadillac and we all get in. 5 minutes down the road, we pass a cop on a motorcycle, questioning a stationary car. Our driver sped on and told us to say we were his friends. The cop followed and pulled us over. We were all forced to get out and the driver was sent on his way. Then the taxi that I think we actually did order turned up. It looks like the taxi waiting outside the hotel called the police. Anyway we got home.
Later, we went to dinner at a restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet. Oh my god I was I in heaven. The food was superb. Most of it had been procured through the black market and was certainly illegal. But oh soooo good. It was the best meal we had eaten. We would have gone every night but we felt obliged to eat in the Casa at least some of the time.

We went back to the Casa de Cultura for some Trova and salsa. Sue got to dance. I didn’t bother. I just don’t know how and don’t like embarrassing myself unnecessarily. The place was packed. Locals and foreigners alike sat at tables or procured a position on the many steps around the casa and café & bars. We stayed till midnight. It was such a balmy night and the music was jumping. The band was at least a 6 piece, with various dancers giving it their all to the music.

The next day we organized another illegal taxi to the beach with a taxi driver.
This time we went to one just before the one we went to yesterday. It was lovely too. We waited for the official bus and waited and waited but eventually we got some bus so got home for cheaper than the day before and without incident. Ah.
Had another wonderful dinner at our casa and hit the Casa de Cultura for another brilliant music session.
Getting out of Trinidad proved to be a bit of a problem but we decided to just turn up on the day and hope to get on a bus, even though we were only able to reserve for the following day. But we were lucky and got the bus.

SANTIAGO
We had arranged through our Casa particular for one of her friends to put us up. The road to Santiago was interesting. Many modes of transport are used and most are crowded. There is a lot of beauty but relative poverty too but not really as bad as I have seen in many other countries. On arrival in Santiago, we were met by a taxi. We had a really good place right outside the centre. So quiet at night and only a 20 minute walk to town. It was interesting in this casa. There was a lot of mod cons and modern cups etc. you could tell there was a lot more money here. We came to the conclusion that, she must have relatives in Spain as the email address she uses is a Spanish one. We are beginning to be able to see the difference in the Casas and who has relatives abroad or is making more money.

Santiago was a bit edgier than Trinidad. However, there seemed to be a bit of racism too. When we told people about Sues robbery, the usual question was if the thieves were black and when we said yes there was various tut tuting.

We liked Santiago though. There was a lot of activity by Fidel and Che down here. This was where they landed in their yacht Grandma. This was where much of the rebellion was organized in the start etc. The presence of many murals attested to this.
We went to see the barracks, where Fidel etc. tried to attack and saw the bullets. There were a lot of them.

We also went to a beautiful fort that had been used during colonization. We met 2 girls from Eastern Europe who went with us. Later that evening we met up with them in Casa Grande. They had bumped into 3 English lads that lived near where Sue and I have lived.
There are again amazing buildings here. We tried to get into the Bacardi family museum but it was shut each time. The Bacardi family emigrated from Cuba after the revolution when the new govt. took their lands. Although the Bacardi family was offered compensation for them, they left very bitterly and were and are responsible for much of the Anti Cuban feelings in the US. They moved their Bacardi Rum making facilitie

s and offices to the Dominican Republic where they still remain.

We lunched in the Hotel Casa Grande, the poshest place in town. But bizarrely it is managed by a foreign company and has the most reasonable food. We went to Casa de Trova for one of the afternoon sessions. This is the centre for Traditional Cuba Trova music in Santiago. It was such a cool place with fabulous photos. It really was like stepping back in time. There was one old lady there tapping away to the music. She even got up to dance. She looked like she had been coming here since the place was built over a hundred years ago. She came and chatted to me and told me about her breast cancer and god knows what else. I did end up giving her a little money. She was soooooo old, I had to.

We were usually exhausted each day from all the walking around. There was just so much to see.

As were going to the bus station to go to Baracoa, I got to see the Monument to Antonio Maceo, one of the early and few revolutionaries that was half indigenous.

Honduras, ruins, ruined diving, ruined tired.

30Jul
I got up really early to get the bus to El Poy, the last Salvadorian town before the Honduras border. What a waste of time. The bus was heaving and I could not get on let alone my huge rucksack and 2 other bags. So I went back to the hostel, had breakfast and tried again an hour and a half later. This time the bus even had seats. A well dressed cowboy, including cowboy hat befriended me. He told me where to get off and pointed me to the border when we arrived. I just love the salvadorians. Some of the loveliest people I have encountered. It saddens me to leave. I walked across the border. It was easy. The most effort was trying to locate a soldier to look at my passport. I thought I would have to have it stamped and they would as usual charge me. But no, here they were honest.

Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Guatemala have an agreement known as the C4. They allow pretty much free passage between the countries once you have been stamped one the first one you entered. However, the odd time some unscrupulous guard charges you. I find it easier to pay the 2 or 3 dollars then argue, as I am never quite sure anyhow what the rules are. I looked for a bus to take me to Nueva Ocotepeque. When I asked this taxi driver he quoted me 5 dollars.

So I walked on. At the Honduran side, I asked the soldiers where the bus was. A taxi came buy and they said why not take that. But he said 20. I said no it was too expensive. The lady soldier then pointed out that it was 20 lempira, not 20 dollars. That is about 1 dollar. I felt an idiot and laughed. They thought it was hilarious. But when you are a foreigner, you get quoted such ridiculous prices, that it hadn't twigged with me. Well the bus came along then and all was well. At Nueva Ocotepeque, it was onward to La Entrada. The driver forgot to tell me where I was to get off and it wasn't that obvious. So I had to jump off the bus on the highway a way out of town. After asking a food seller which direction for Copan, she flagged a moto taxi for me and explained where to go.

At Copan Ruinas, due to floods, the bus was unable to take us right into town but it was just a hop, skip and a jump over puddles to the centre. I got a moto taxi to a hostel but no answer and the taxi had disappeared. I was glad though, as I realised it was a bit far out once I had walked the long way back to the centro. It was time to eat. I had been travelling for hours. The centre was wet but delightful. It is a bit of a tourist enclave though. Well it is the most popular tourist centre in Honduras, in fact in much of Central America. But it has retained a certain charm, as have the people. I spent a few days walking around town, exploring museums and the myriad of cobbled streets, shops and of course cafes.

01AugJul
Walked to the Enchanted Wings Butterfly house. A butterfly farm, created by an American nature expert and ex Peace Corp. I had the place to myself. The young assistant explained they take the larvae and hold it in special wooden boxes until it is ready to become a butterfly. Many of the butterflies are moved to Roatan Island, for the butterfly farm there, as they are not as successful at breeding. Some of the caterpillars were as big as my hand and thats pretty damn big. It was weird walking around. None of the orchids were in bloom but many of the butterflies landed on my shoulder or shoes etc. if I stood for more than a minute. It was disconcerting as this has never happened to me in the wild. Some of the butterflies had this huge eye design on their wings.

It was a pretty cool place.

I hopped into a moto taxi to the Macaw Mountain bird sanctuary. The gent who escorted me and 2 older Israelis around, had lived in America, and had owned a successful restaurant in Copan. He had just sold it, so was helping out his friend who owned the sanctuary. All the birds here have been found by locals, recovered from poachers etc. Now the government actually send birds here too, as it acknowledges the sanctuary. As a result. if a bird dies, the sanctuary has to keep the body to show it to the govt inspector, as proof they didn't sell it.

There was an amazing amount/variety of toucans, parrots and macaws. The grounds are like a tropical forest and a pleasure to walk around. They have a souvenir shop and also now have their own coffee plantation, the profits of which go to maintain the sanctuary. At the end of the tour, a guard brought in a baby armadillo, whose mother had been killed on the road. It was soooooooooo cute. They will take care of it here, a new addition to the family.

Walking around later admiring the jewellery stalls, I ran into Jeremiah again, the guy I had met sailing from Colombia. This must be the 5th time we have met. Had to laugh. He said my Spanish had improved. As has his English.

02Aug.

An early start. Today I see the famous ruins. When I hit the reception and main plaza of the ruins, I thought oh god there are so many people here, bus loads. I ventured off a little and lost them. My next view was of 5 or six parrots, toucans in the trees and another batch on the fence. It was great wandering around, climbing up the temples, many of which have been reconstructed or repaired. Albeit, many still connected to the jungle, with trees and their roots strangling the bricks, a reminder of how they looked pre-discovery. It was definitely worth the US$15. There were some brilliant sculptures e.g. my favourite: the Old mans in the foto here. Also one of the highlights here was hieroglyphic stairs, with its amazing carvings and drawings outlining the reign of the kings here etc. as well as the giant sculpture at the foot of the steps again in a foto here.

I didn't pay to go into the tunnels. This I really regretted, once I entered the museum. Underneath one of the pyramids, was an earlier pyramid/temple, now known as the Rosalea temple. It was common for the Mayans to build a temple for one king, over a previous temple of an earlier king. A recreation of this temple was built in the museum. It had all the colours and faces of the kings, gods etc intact. The original had been spared the vengeance of the sun and the jungle, so it provided an immense amount of information and detail previously lacking. The museum itself was stunning and well laid out. The Rosalea was constructed in the centre of the museum, with the museum in two levels encircling it. The centre of which, and thus the temple itself, open to the sun. I would have gone back into the ruins and paid to see the original but I was too tired, having walked around for several hours. A shame.

03Aug.

5am start and of course today, no one is leaving the hostel to go to the bus which is a walk away down an empty dark street, I would rather avoid. Each morning, I have been woken by people with their wheelie suitcases making such a racket. OF course when I want someone to be awake...However, a few of the locals were up, so it was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. I took the expensive shuttle with hedman Atlas, instead of the cheaper local buses as I wanted to get to the ferry in La Ceiba before it left.

I arrived at the ferry port, at about 2, bought my ticket to find that the ferry had not run at all that morning and there was quite a few people that had been there for hours. Luck was still with me, as I was one of the few to still get on AND the ferry left an hour early. RESULT!!!!.

The first person I met on the ferry was Sonia, one of the girls who drove me to La Palma in El Salvador. What a coincidence. So I sat next to her and Sahara a girl from London, who were seated next to 4 Salvadorians, who had started drinking the supplies in their beercooler at 10.30 am. They were a hoot. We sat outside, as it is more fun. We got drenched as the waves landed and crashed on the deck. But we had a laugh and got a foto afterwards of the three of us wet rats.

Alex, who had been working in Altons, recommended it, so we all headed there. Luckily we got accommodation and I booked myself on a diving course. I had 2 days to read and absorb the diving manual. Sarah and Christen were there as a welcome party. It was so good to see them. It was going to be a mad week. I also met Johnny, that I had met in Grenada. Sarah ended up getting to know him too before I came, even though she had not met before. bizarre connections.

The original plan was to meet Alex in Utila, one of the Bay Islands in Honduras. Famous for its cheap diving underwater beauty and backpacking party scene. I had organised my trip around Alex being on the Island and the island for the SunJam festival (a big electronic dance fest.)on 08/08/2008. Alex had been working on the island for a few months, as a dive master. but he had got island crazy and left about a week before I got there. It was a shame, he could not have lasted but I could see why, as the place was too busy and the staff totally overworked. As I had planned various things around the 8th Aug, and had arranged to meet Sarah and Christen. Also I had decided months ago to skip Belize and was psyched up to go to the festival and it would have meant leaving El Salvador earlier and maybe not going back. So I decided not to change my plan and join Alex in Belize, as he offered to meet there.

I did my theory and read the diving manual as part of the course. However, I didn't get a chance to go snorkelling or even for a swim before having to jump into the water with all the diving equipment. I couldn't do it at first. I finally got to jump in with my mask and tank but the tank hit my head rather hard, enough to make it bleed (which I only realised later) and I couldn't bear to remove the mask. I knew that at every step it was just going to take me that bit longer than everyone else to do the tasks and I just couldn't deal with breathing through my nose. I seem to have got worse with this. So I gave up. I was disappointed and felt left out when all the others came back with grins on their faces after all the wonderful things they had seen. But such is life. Maybe I will try again.

That evening, I met some guys, Sarah and Christen had met, who have been coming regularly over the last few years and their fathers before them.
We stayed in the gazebo chatting for hours about everything. Alton an dI had a really good chat on aging, as he is jsut a little younger than I. It was interesting to chat on our experiences. Next day they invited us to go with them by boat, to go snorkelling near Water Cay. Sarah and I decided to lie on the roof of the boat. We had to hold on for dear life as the boat bounced over the waves on the way to the Cay. Not sure Sarah liked it as much as me though.

The Water Cay is a tiny little islet if you could call it that with just a few trees etc. There are a few other smaller islets around it with one or two houses on them or nothing at all. It was stunning there. The water was really shallow, with turquoise water and white sands. After a lot of tomfoolery, we headed back to the dive centre.

Over my 10 days in Utila we met the boys on a semi regular basis, as well as Alton. This was always a blast and conversation was entertaining. I also met some of the others too for dinner etc. We made it to Treetanic a few times and a few other bars on the island. Treetanic was incredible. The owner has spent the last 12 years or so creating this amazing bar with mosaics made from tiles, bottles and god knows what else. foto attached. The bar is a work of art in progress and pulls in the punters and the money like nothing else in town.

One day I went to the private beach, the nicest beach on Utila, accompanied by this Israeli girl who had similar problems to me and had also given up dive classes. We went snorkelling around this reef but it was a killer to get to as there was a lot of sharp coral. We tried to follow the path to the reef but without shoes it was vicious. The Israeli girl went for another stab at it but I just lay on the beach reading, as I felt uncomfortable going over coral and killing it.

As I was walking back to the dive centre, my name was shouted by this person whizzing by on a golf buggy. It was Brendan from San Juan in Nicaragua. I was so surprised to see him. The last time I saw him, he was in crutches, in a lot of pain and could barely walk after a motorbike accident. As Sarah and Christen also knew Brendan, we all met up for food and drinks that evening. There was definitely a clicking between Brendan and Sarah, so I left them to it, after we started playing pool late into the evening.

Utila is definitely a party town. Although many nights didn't really go out too late. Sarah or christen usually came back with a tale if they went out, which always made me laugh.

07Aug.

After the beach went to treetanic and another bar that turns into a late night club. Everyone was preparing for tomorrow. The boys, Paul, Reed etc were there and were joined by these 2 guys they had been expecting and talking about for days. Apparently they are mad. They didn't seem as mad as some of my friends but I guess we all have different views on madness. ha ha. The music was brilliant, So I just went and did my thing. The others thought I danced mad. As we were dancing on this bench near the wall. I saw Eddy, whom I had met in San Juan. He joined us. Had such a laugh especially watching Christen and Paul taking the pee on the dance floor. We bought some balloons filled with laughing gas and played with those for a while. Then home.

08Aug.

Today is the day of the Infamous SunJam. We are sooooo excited. Spent ages though trying to sort things out, like mail, packing, and most importantly getting money, ATMS are not working and getting cash has been a stuggle. It is going to be a long night and we leave first thing in the am. Then we got the Alton dive centre boat to the Water cay. There were so many boats heading there. The foto here shows the cay, before the 4000+ people arrived. Simply beautiful.

The Israeli girl and Sonia managed to get work behind the bar, so got in free. We got there about 7.30/8. We were early. Those behind the bar were on such a high. The boys, Paul, Reed etc. were there already. It was all a bit subdued and the music was ok. However, as the night wore on, the music really took off. Nearly everyone I had met was there so danced with different people. It was so amazing, the set up. There was a large bar to the side. Everything was under the stars. If you wanted chill you just went over to the quieter side of the cay where it was darker and you could sit or lie. Some people brought tents so they could take a nap etc. There were food stands too, so all was catered for. It was such a cool night.

09Aug.

At 4.30am it was time to leave. The worst thing was this was when it was really getting at its best. It was really, really difficult to leave. We easily got a boat back to Utila, then grabbed our bags from the centre and managed to get tickets for the 6.30am ferry to La Ceiba. We were really nervous in case the ferry was sold out but we got lucky. A 5 hour bus ride to San Pedro and we were in a hostel and searching for food. We were so exhausted. It was early to bed and again at 6am we were up and on our way to the airport. The girls were flying to the US. so we were all leaving together which was great.

10Aug
At the airport, Sarah, Christen, and this young guy we had met in Utila and I, all decided to meet up next year and go to all the festivals and become international ravers. This cracked us up. I can see them doing it but I think I will be working my butt off back in London or on the dole. Either way no money or no time. On the plane, I was missing the girls. I had such a good time with them. Always something to laugh at. They have such a great sense of humour and fun. Oh well at least I was on my way to something good not back to work. I was really looking forward to meeting up with Sue and seeing Cuba.