Tales from the Gringo Trail (Part 1)

Chile con carne

Ten hours after leaving the relative safety of Auckland I landed in Santiago in Chile. Another continent and the start of a new adventure.



I was not too impressed with Santiago. Some parts of the centre of Santiago resembled a concrete jungle, the main square being an exception. The drab gray buildings along the narrow streets block out the sunlight. The years of Pinochet and his repression are still evident. Compared to other capital cities I´ve been to it was a little disappointing. Where the architecture was not impressive, the street art / graffiti most certainly was, especially in the Bellavista area. Many buildings were covered with amazing colourful artwork and there were some interesting museums.


The Chileans are big drinkers and Bellavista was the place to see this too. The street bars full of people from 6pm until the wee small hours. Except for the the Saturday night I was there, when all the bars closed at midnight because of an election the next day. No drinking on election day and it´s illegal not to vote.

I visited the Museum of International Solidarity, it was in memory of Salvador Allende Gossans, the president of whose government was overthrown in a coup in 1973 by General Pinochet, with help from the USA. He supposedly committed suicide. There are many art works with anti US sentiments. The art works were hidden during the Pinochet years.

I love Valpo

Two hours on the bus and I was in Valparaiso, a once rich port city on the Pacific coast until the Panama Canal was opened. Now a decaying but atmospheric city that is slowly being restored. It is a UNESCO heritage sight and is built over a number of hills which have ancient elevators (ascensors) to save you having to climb up. Most of the city´s buildings were destroyed by an earthquake in 1862. The shells of some of these buildings still stand near the port.

Brightly coloured houses and buildings next to crumbling slums. It's best not to stray too far from the busy streets, there's always a presence of danger lurking in the shadows. The streets are brightened by some amazing street art / graffiti. The girl's tee shirt said 'I love Valpo', the heart was crossed out and she was missing her hand bag, maybe she'd been unlucky and had it snatched.

Valparaiso is the home of Chilean Armada (Navy). A retired Captain of the Royal Navy, Lord Cochrane, arrived in Chile in 1818 and became head of the Chilean fleet with the rank of Admiral. Under his command the Chilean Armada defeated the Spanish Armada which led to an independent Chile.

Not really knowing where I was going next, I find I can get a bus from Valparaiso to Mendoza in Argentina. An amazing bus journey over the Andes. The mountains were incredible . Aconcagau could be seen form the bus in all it´s glory towering above us at 6962 metres high.

Don´t cry for me......

Crossing into Argentina was an easy process with no hold ups. At customs we all had to get off the bus, but instead of our bags being checked a cup was passed round for tips for the customs officials.

I arrived in Mendoza and the contrast with Valparaiso could not be greater. The tree lined streets felt safe and the atmosphere was relaxed. It is literally an oasis in the desert, I was told it only rains 3 or 4 times a year. It rained 5 times during my stay! The city was destroyed by an earthquake in 1861 and completely rebuilt with a wide streets and a main square, Plaza Indepencia and four smaller squares, Plazas Italy, Spain, Chile and San Martin. If another earthquake struck the people would be safe in these areas. The beautiful San Martin Park was great for walking in and the park gates were even made in Scotland.

The Italian influence in Mendoza is very obvious with the people dressing with style and many expensive shops. If it wasn´t for the amount of ancient cars on the roads it would be easy to mistake it for a city in Europe.

As well as Jesus, the trees are the savior in Mendoza. No one would live there without them. It´s possible to walk in shade through most of the city. With temperatures in the mid 30´s this was a welcome relief. Between the pavements and roads are a system of aqua ducts that provide water for the trees. The trees also help absorb some of the pollution that belch from the ancient cars that choke the streets. With a 50% import tax on imported goods even the oldest most wrecked car is still worth something.

I was soon getting into the local way of life; taking mate (a herb drink) and siestas, eating far too much steak at the many asados (BBQ´s) and drinking the local wine. I enrolled with a school to learn Spanish and end up staying for 3 weeks. I was lucky that I met a girl, Mariana, who could help me with my Spanish in return for helping her with her English. It´s difficult socialise with local people when travelling so it was great going out with her and her friends. She was from Buenos Aries but had moved to Mendoza to escape the rat race.

My first long bus journey took me to Tucuman. Maybe you would think that 15 hours in a bus was unbearable but the seats recline, there´s plenty of room and food and drinks are served. They are very luxurious compared with the buses back home.



Tucuman was in the middle of a heat wave when I arrived The streets were deserted, everybody taking their siesta, this was really the only option. The next day the local paper reported the temperature as 39 deg C, with the highest energy demands in the country ever. Strange seeing Christmas decorations in the summer.

Don´t mention the war...

I arrived in Cafayate in mid afternoon, that meant siesta time and everything was closed. I got invited to sit with three old men outside a cafe. They told me they like Scottish people but not the English because of the war over the Falklands. I nod in agreement and say how bad it was, not wanting to add that there were Scottish troops fighting on the front lines.... Peoples' confusion over which countries actually makes up the UK is usually to my advantage. They were all poets and gave me some of their poetry books. Later they invite me to a recital and we share wine bread and cheese. They wanted nothing in return but the next time I´m in Cafayate I have to bring some poetry from Scotland for them.

The town was really nice. A large central square full of trees surrounded by colonial style building and a pretty church. The countryside is full of vineyards the town produces some good wines. A morning was spent visiting some of the Bodegas (wine cellars) to taste the wine. The Torrontes was particularly good.

Nearby was an area called Quebrada de las Conches. The road winds it´s way through amazing coloured mountains, red and green from iron and copper deposits. Strangely eroded mountains and enormous ravines where mighty rivers once flowed and cauldrons where waterfalls once cascaded.

Salta is home of the Archaeological museum of the high Mountains. This houses 3 Inca mummies which were found on Volcan Llullaillaco in 1999. They were perfectly preserved by the high altitude and freezing temperatures. Only one is on display in the museum at a time. The little boy,with his head resting on his knees, looked like he would wake from his sleep at any time. Salta was a great place to stay for a few days. It was vibrant city and had beautiful buildings, churches.

Two nights in Tilcara to let me acclimatize to the altitude, now 2500m. Adobe buildings, dirt roads and many indigenous people. I´d left the modern Argentina behind.



Many artists and musicians have made this their home and I was lucky to be able to go to an evening of folk music, with guitar, accordion and singing. High on a hill above the town was the remains of and ancient city, Pulkara de Tilcara, dating from 1500BC. More impressive were the huge cacti growing through the remains.

I sat high up on the hill watching lightening hit the mountains on each side of the valley. Better get to safety, the riders on the storm were coming.

Between Tilcara and Humahuaca the road passed a little sign letting the passengers on the ancient bus know that they had crossed the Tropic of Capricorn. On one side of the bus amazing mountains coloured red and yellow from iron and sulphur deposits, on the other side the Rio Grande and old railway tracks, at times suspended in air where bridges had been washed away. Only the ghosts of long forgotten trains follow these tracks now. My time in Argentina was nearly over but not before a stop in Humahuaca, another town of adobe buildings, cobbled streets and 3000m above sea level. Finally a short two hour bus journey to the border with Bolivia at La Quiaca. The scenery was changing, the towns were changing, the influence of Bolivia becoming apparent. A little taste of things to come.

Reaching the border at lunch time was no problem with only a short queue of people. There were hundreds of Bolivians crossing the border with huge amounts of goods but they didn't seem to need to have any documents checked. I was full of excitement and anticipation with the thought of traveling in Bolivia, crossing into the unknown, new people and a different culture.

Argentina is the 8th largest country in the world after India. Visiting the cities, it's easy to think that it's a modern and developed country. The run down areas and slums on the edge of the cities say otherwise. The country is slowly recovering from the financial crash in 2001 but with inflation at 25% and wages not increasing, it's tough for ordinary people to get by. With many natural resources including minerals and fertile land, and only 40 million people a full recovery is a possibility. Unfortunately the gap between the rich and poor is getting bigger and 25% of the population live in poverty.
On a positive note, it´s an amazing country to visit, with incredible landscapes and welcoming, friendly people. I plan to return to Argentina and visit Buenos Aries at the end of this trip.

Turn on, tune in, drop out

Train Spotting

Choose life, choose a career, choose a job, choose a flat screen TV...... Life is what you make it. For the last year my life has been a kaleidoscope of changing cultures, different people, amazing cities and landscapes . I chose to carry on my adventure around the world.

The prospect of returning to Scotland and resuming my previous life was not a path I was willing to take. Continuing my life 'off the grid' was way more exciting. Careers and job offers were of less importance, reality yeah that's a scary prospect, or has my escape from reality in fact become reality? Regardless, I'm going to carry on for now until my luck or money runs out. After a brief visit back home to Aberdeen my journey was to take me back to New Zealand for the winter and then onto South America.

The decision had been made in early March to return to New Zealand, with my season pass and air ticket bought. It felt like returning to a second home. Revisiting familiar haunts like Methven and Mount Hutt. Later Queenstown.

The Winter Season

Snowboarding, women and drinking. Not always in that order but dependent on mood, circumstance and the ever unpredictable New Zealand weather. It's a fine balance and hopefully not too much of a compromise. The wind blows, the mountain closes, snow falls heavily and the access roads are closed. Frustration and boredom, never far away, just as well snowboarding is not my only passion in life. On a good day, a car full of friends, good music, full of excitement and anticipation, racing up the ski field road. On the mountain, powder snow and bluebird sky's, seeking out the best lines and untracked snow. The weather closes in or the light goes flat, it's time to sit around and drink coffee. When the mountain is shut it's time to relax or party, play pool in the pub or get drunk and chase the snow bunnies. With hard work and some luck it all works out well.

I spent most of the season in Methven, staying at the Mt Hutt Bunkhouse again. I knew I would be amongst familiar faces there, with many friends returning from previous years. Trips were made south to Queenstown and Wanaka, but for me it was Mt Hutt, Porters and the club fields where the action was at.

Old Timer, yeah right....

I walked into the common room of the hostel in Queenstown, blimey they're getting younger, or am I just getting old? Yeah, you can keep your comments to yourselves please. My behavior disguises my age, I'm told. Plenty of time to grow up, just don't grow old.

I met my fellow old timer and long time friend JD at Queenstown airport. I had a week to take him to some of the ski fields and show him how wonderful New Zealand is. The Remarkables, Coronet Peak, Treble Cone, Ohau and later Mount Hutt. After a shaky start with the weather we find powder snow and blue sky at Treble Cone and Ohau, but not without the inevitable hiking to get there. Awesome runs and the comment 'this is the stuff of snowboard DVD's' reminds me why I love snowboarding here so much. It had been over 2 years since we had last met and it was great to catch up and find out the gossip and drink whisky. It was inevitable we'd end up doing a bungy jump and this was done at the Kawarau Bridge, the original bungy. Alas JD's (snowboarding) fun was cut short by the arrival of his girlfriend Sam.

It was a winter of reunions with Ianzie, another old timer and biker friend from Aberdeen, visiting Wanaka with his girlfriend for a week of skiing.

Mt Hutt

Towering high above the patchwork quilt fields of the Canterbury Plains, Mount Hutt gives incredible views across to the Pacific Ocean and behind of the Southern Alps. We grumble about the closed days here, but when it's a powder day it rocks.

There is some challenging terrain at Mt Hutt but to escape the crowds a trip out the back towards North Peak is required, not forgetting to leave our intentions with ski patrol. Out there we were on our own, we hoped. Thankfully my good friend Hamish was leading the way, a veteran of at least 8 seasons at Mt Hutt. We ride down from the ski field boundary, then hike for 30 minutes. Out of nowhere a group of telemark skiers appeared and stole our fresh tracks. We needed to get our breath back first but there was a massive snow field in front of us with plenty of room for everybody, on the perfect spring snow. We set off in complete silence on the mountain, no wind and blue bird skies it was an amazing place to be.

The season's not complete without the Mt Hutt Peak to Pub race. A 2km snowboard, a 17km mountain bike ride down the skifiled access road and a 10km run to the Blue Pub in Methven. Junko, Giles and I entered the mixed teams race and came 10th out of 20 teams which was pretty good considering we did almost no training. I did the mountain bike section which was very exhilarating if not a little dangerous. The access road has some fearsome drop offs. A friend ended the race in a ditch with cuts and bruises and one of the main sponsors, Big Al, had to be air lifted to Christchurch hospital with a broken neck! Even so, there was still a great atmosphere after the race at the Blue pub.

Give me a job now, please!

My third season of snowboarding in New Zealand without working. I think I qualify with an outstanding A++ as a certified ski bum. It was time for this to change. I enrolled in a course to become a snow board instructor. Four days of assessment, instruction, late nights studying and a teaching assessment on the final day. This was bloody hard work but really good fun and very rewarding. I even passed! So my riding has improved, I learned lots and now I'm an unemployed snow board instructor, where will it all end?

The Clubbies

It has taken me the best part of 3 winter seasons but I have now discovered the true nature of winter sports in New Zealand. The club fields are like nothing I've ever been to before. Difficult to get to, hard work when you're there, but very few people, a great atmosphere and definitely the best terrain. A spirit of adventure and a fair amount of determination are required to enjoy them to the full. We all agreed the days at the clubbies were amongst the best of the winter. Damn it, I need another season here.....

Trip to Mount Olympus Ski field

The Playground of the Gods..... their words not mine. This was surely going to be something very special. A 65km drive from Methven, more than half of this on dirt roads, the adventure started way before we reached the ski field. Turning off from Ryton Road onto the single track access road, we were surrounded by towering snow capped mountains and rugged tussock moorland. This was wilderness to rival anywhere else I'd seen in NZ. The road wound its way along the gorge high above on the mountain side. Passing an oncoming car, with only inches to spare on one side and a several hundred feet drop on the other my concentration was dialed in. On this type of road I've usually been at the mercy of some local lunatic bus driver. Today my passengers Toby and Lewis were at the mercy of my driving.

Approaching the ski field we reached the 'bottom hut', where we radioed our intentions to the ski field of our arrival. This was to ensure there was no downward traffic on the very steep and narrow final section to the car park. Snow chains fitted the car ground it's way up the bumpy and rutted road which was hardly suitable for the 2 wheel drive car we were in.

Apart from the flash 4x4's in the car park the scene that greeted us could have been from the 1950's. An old fashioned rope tow up the mountain. Yeah these are scary!!! Wearing a harness with a nut cracker device attached, first grab the rope and once traveling at the same speed as the rope attach nut cracker to rope and hold on. It may be old but it's rapid transit up the mountain. Sounds easy? I'd take a chairlift any time. When riding the tow the nut cracker passes over the pulley wheels with a resounding metallic clunk. With my fingers only inches away I disliked it every time.

This mountain is not for the faint hearted, there is no grooming and no pistes. The whole area is there to be shredded. To give some idea of the terrain one area is called 'Little Alaska'. Another run is called 'International Wife Swappers'. The club members must have some good parties in the club house. Shame I'm not married.

Unlike the commercial ski fields I've been to, the lifts here didn't shut at 4pm. When we asked the closing time, the answer was when the last person has had enough. This and the relaxed and friendly nature of the handful of people that were there made it a super enjoyable day. Amazing terrain, great snow and wonderful views, it had been all I'd expected and more. Snow boarding at it's best.

Trip to Temple Basin Ski field

Transworld Snow Boarding magazine were quoted as saying 'If I had to stay in one area, on one mountain to snowboard for the rest of my life, it would be Temple Basin. It's that good!' FHM magazine voted Temple Basin as the greatest adventure escape worldwide and said it's arguably has the hottest snowboarding terrain in the Southern Hemisphere

This was one ski field I had to get to, so when some of my Japanese friends, Toby, Kazu Shiba and Teru, said they were planning a trip I jumped at the opportunity to go. It was my no means easy to get there. After a 2 hour drive to Arthur's Pass we were faced with a 50 minute hike up the mountain to get to the ski area. Fortunately there was a goods lift to carry all our gear up.

The skies were clear, the snow was good and the rope tows and nut crackers were were becoming easier to use. Along the walking track to the second tow and then more hiking to the ridge above. This was pretty scary, walking along the narrow ridge to get some fresh lines in the snow. The terrain was steep and really hard work, long traverses to reach challenging chutes. Again no grooming, this was all 'off piste' and with fewer than 10 people on the mountain it had a real wilderness feel.

At the end of a great day Toby and Kazu were showing off with their tricks on the kicker in front of the lodge to every one's great amusement when they got it wrong.

After a comfortable night in the mountain lodge we were greeted by cloud and rain the next morning. It was snowing higher up but after a few runs we were all shattered from the difficult conditions so retired to the lodge for lunch before the hike back down the mountain.

So the magazines were right and if I needed only one reason to move to New Zealand it would be so I could snow board at Temple Basin....

Trip to Craigieburn Valley Ski Area

I was nervous about going to this ski field. The area is for adventurous and advanced snow boarders and skiers. To ride the rope tows 'goofy foot' it is recommended you are of advanced level snow boarding. There are even triple black diamond runs here marked as suicidal! Even the access road was hair raising. A single track road cut into the mountain side with a shear drop of several hundred metres to the side.

It was going to be a hard day for me, trying to keep up with my two ski instructor friends Giles and Shiba. The icy and sloping up track of the rope tows didn't make things easy but I was soon up to the summit and we were soon heading down the less suicidal chutes, across a beautiful snow field, passed the closed signs and down to the access road. Ski Patrol are never amused when closed signs are ignored and I should know the snow responsibility code by now, but here they said 'cool you made it down, just be careful on the snow covered creek, it's beginning to break up'.

A big hike up to Hamilton Peak in the bright spring sun and then the run down Hamilton Face. The top was in the shadow of the sun and was sheet ice and steep, this fortunately turned to perfect spring snow very quickly and we all had grins from ear to ear at the bottom.

Craigieburn and Broken River Ski field together form the largest off piste area in New Zealand. Another great day was spent exploring Broken River.

End of another Season

The snow boarding was awesome, the drinking and partying were in moderation, sometimes, and the women, well that's another story altogether.

So where will it all end? I don't know, I plan my life around snowboarding, when can I do another season... I think passion has become obsession!

The winter crew (not all in the photo and in no particular order): Hame Dawg & Junko, Tim & Kazuha, Giles (Mr Bunkhouse), Shiba, Toby, Kazu, Mitsu, Kalvin, Andy, Mel, Iyo, Iyumi, Yukiko, Lisa, Kaulu, Yoshimi, Aiko, Antje, Sarah & Ellie in QT and probably a few others.... See you all next year!

Around the World

Flying in from Mexico City to Vancouver I was re-entering the so called 'developed world'. After a grilling by the most unpleasant and abrasive immigration official of the trip so far, I was let in. I'm told the United States are putting pressure on Canada to tighten up their border security, I think there was their something missed out about being polite?



Vancouver has the title of being the most desirable city to live in, in the world. We'll see.
For me, as a budget traveller, it was desirable as there were many pizza shops offering slices for $1. These I am told are for the large population of homeless people that occupy the streets next to the down town area. They are drug addicts, the mentally ill and people down on their luck. It's quite an unexpected and sometimes shocking sight. Vancouver is the only city in Canada where it is possible to sleep on the streets all year round with out freezing to death. These poor people come from all over Canada for this reason. A few blocks east of downtown there are queues of people out side the pharmacies where they get their methadone prescriptions. Groups of ghost like people gather outside supervised injection sights. Walking through the area in daylight I felt in no danger, at night I was not so sure.

There is an interesting recycling system in Vancouver. No recycling bins are to be found on the streets. The homeless people are seen pushing shopping trolleys full of cans and bottles collected from bins, they take them to recycling centres and are given a small amount of money in return. A good idea maybe but hardly an ideal situation in this modern city. Will all this change before the 2010 Winter Olympic games?



If I'm painting a grim picture of the city the rest of Vancouver is most certainly not. It's just the contrast of rich and poor is very obvious. With the pretty harbour front, the huge trees in Stanley Park and the snow covered mountains beyond North Vancouver it is a very attractive city. The people of Vancouver that I spoke to claimed it's way superior to Toronto, I'd keep an open mind on that.


The road from Vancouver to the ski resort town of Whistler is called the Sea to Sky Highway. It does just that. I checked into my lodge accommodation in Whistler. Being right at the end of the winter season it had a kind of eerie quiet feeling about it, reminding me of the movie 'The Shining'. It wasn't Johnie I had to look out for though, it was the black bears that had just come out of hibernation and were wandering around looking for things to eat. Walking up the road to the lodge, armed with two shopping bags full of food, car drivers stopped to warn me of a bear on the road just ahead of me.



The two days of snowboarding I managed on Blackcomb Mountain were good fun. It was the end of May and warm and sunny making the snow quite soft and avalanches very likely. The best terrain was off limits for this reason. The downhill mountain bike season was well on it's way, it was a strange sight seeing skiers and snowboarders next to the bikers at the apres ski bars at the bottom of the mountain. Think I'd be happy living here with all this going on!

The silver train snaked it's way out of the suburbs of Vancouver on it's long journey across the continent. This was the last long overland journey of my trip round the world and would take me across Canada through the Rockies, the Prairies, the Canadian Shield of Ontario and on to Toronto. A distance of nearly 4500Km and 3 days on the train.

The train is made up of the original 1950's carriages with domed observation cars allowing amazing panoramic views. It was a little bit of luxury at the end of my travels. The train had 24 carriages making it more than a 1/2 mile long. Good for taking a stroll after the generous portions of food served in the restaurant car.

Past the towering Mount Robson (3900m), through endless pine forest, the occasional bear or moose at he side of the track. A day through the Rockies, a day of the flat expanse of the prairies, a day of the trees and lakes of Ontario. Passing through Kamloops, Jasper, Edmonton, Winnipeg, Sioux Lookout, Parry Sound. Eventually the Toronto skyline came into view dominated by the brightly lit CN tower. A very enjoyable and relaxing journey with top quality food and good company.

I've been to Toronto a few times now and there's always good reason to go back, my Aunt Sheena, Peter and my cousins Fiona, Gayle, Kerry and Lynn and now recent new arrival to the family, Rosalyn.

It has been said that Toronto is like New York but run by the Swiss. I think it has a bit more New York in it now and it's none the worse for it. It's a vibrant, cosmopolitan and very ethnically diverse. I liked it lots but there are no mountains nearby so the jury's out on whether it beats Vancouver. Wait a minute of course it beats Vancouver, I have family to stay with in Toronto and cousins to hang out with and to drink too many 'martinis' with.



Staying with my cousin Gayle at her house at Georgian bay on Lake Huron, trips to the museums and galleries of Toronto. Eating out at many good restaurants and maybe a drink or three at night.

Toronto Island is situated in Lake Ontario, a short ferry trip away from down town. It's the best place to view the city skyline particularly the CN Tower and the Sky Dome, now called the Rogers Centre, very imaginatively renamed after it's latest owner. It's a great place to come to on a sunny day with beaches and swimming, if the lake is not too polluted, and even a nudist beach. My cousins took me there for the day and trusted me to steer the quadracycle we hired to see the island. Wooded tracks and old wooden cottages and yachts and boats of the rich and wealthy.


After two weeks of being looked after exceptionally well, I was sad to leave Toronto, not just saying goodbye to everyone there but it was the end of this trip. The last journey to make my trip around the world complete. So no Daft Punk had got in my way, my trip had been a success beyond my imagination and left me with a good feeling about the world and all the people I had met. It is quite incredible that I have traveled through 14 countries in just over a year and not even had my bag searched once. Oh yeah, I forgot it did get searched once, when I first left Aberdeen!

My confidence grew as the trip progressed. Feeling more and more comfortable with my travels until it felt like second nature. The fear I'd experienced before I left and before I'd entered some of the countries I'd been to had been unfounded. Maybe the world is not as dangerous a place as it's made out to be (or maybe I've just been lucky). I have found that humanity persists where ever I have gone. People going about their daily lives as we do at home, in peace. There are not thieves ready to rob you at every street corner. Being aware of your surroundings is always a good idea though. Even as a backpacker I'm seen a a rich western tourist by the people of the poorer countries I have visited and this would make me an obvious target for scams and overcharging, but this is all part of the travel experience. I'm glad I didn't pay too much attention to the British Foreign Office warnings on travel to certain areas I've been to, I don't think I'd have left home if I had.

There is a lot of bad news and negativity generated by the press and our governments about the world. The British press sensationalizes the threat of terrorism and recent terrorist acts.
The British government, I believe, is responsible for creating a state of paranoia within the country to pass more and more draconian laws to control the population.

Get out there and see the world, if you can, and make your own mind up.... Watch this space for more adventures from around the world.

A Fistful of Travellers' Cheques

This was no comic strip, this was real life, this was Mexico City. The plane swooped out of the sky as dawn broke over the metropolis below. What was I doing here? The city with the reputation for robberies, kidnap and murder. Worse still, pollution, dirt and noise.

Everybody told me to spend 2 days maximum here and get the hell out of the place.... In their rush had they forgotten to look at the surroundings? This is a city of amazing cultural and architectural wonders.

The Spanish destroyed the ancient Aztec city of Tenochtitlan and created in it's place a colonial gem in North America. A city to rival any in Europe. Yes some may disagree with this, the city is a sprawling mass, but the historic centre I found was really special. There was a large police presence on the streets. On the way from the airport I saw a unit of police men, with machine guns, wearing balaclavas and dark glasses to protect their identities. It was not unusual to see convoys of heavily arm police racing through the streets.

I pinched myself, where was I? Was I dreaming? No I wasn't in Egypt, I really was in Mexico and I was looking at the fantastic pyramids of Teotihuacan.

Journey to Oaxaca

1st class bus travel is very comfortable in Mexico, the bus stations like airport terminals. Looking out the window I watched the desert like scenery go by, many cacti and mighty snow capped mountains in the distance. I wanted to be on the road on a Harley Davidson chopper, I was dreaming of Easy Rider.

In 2006 the square in Oaxaca was held siege by rebels. Now restored to all it's glory it's where all the locals gather and it's a great place to people watch. I hang out with rough guide photographer, Tim, for the day. We discuss world affairs whilst walking around the town, chilling out and drinking coffee. I hoped some of his talent might rub off on me.

On a bus journey from Oaxaca, a busker sings and plays his guitar. Later bumping along a dusty dirt road in a beat up pick-up with Mexican music playing on the stereo, looking out the window seeing dry arid land with agave plantations, mescal distilleries and men with oxes ploughing fields. This was my definitive Mexican experience.

Next stop, San Cristobel de la Casas, another Spanish colonial town, many indigenous villages nearby. The city was held by the rebel Zapatistas in 1994 for just 30 hours, no tourists were harmed. The government has improved the situation but there was also the presence of large military base is nearby.

I was less impressed with the Mayan temples at Palenque. It's not that the Mayan people weren't incredibly talented (they were), it's just there's not much evidence of their work left there. A lot has been removed to museums and what is left is big of piles of stones. Don't go to the Temples of Angkor in Cambodia first and Palenque would no doubt be amazing.

Journey to Guatemala

Okay, to put it mildly I was quite nervous about the Mexican/Guatemalan border crossing. I'd heard too many stories about customs searching bags and taking bribes. The nice air conditioned bus took me to the border at Cuidad Cuauhtemoc. I was the only tourist on the bus, I like it that way. I give my exit card to the passport official, he throws it back at me and stamps my passport. It costs $45 if you loose this card, he didn't even want it. I jumped in the share taxi for the 4km ride to the Guatemalan side, feeling decidedly nervous. I've done a lot of border crossing now but they are never relaxing places. So there I was at La Mesilla, Guatemala, get out of the taxi. Where was passport control? A little office where the woman said 'Guatemala', 'si' I said, my passport was stamped and that was it. No bribes, no hassle, I walked outside soldiers milling around nobody was paying me any attention so I ducked under the barrier free to go on my way.

A tourist shuttle bus driver offers me a ride to Panajachel for $20. That's 4 nights accommodation I thought, I politely decline. I walk through the town to the bus terminal to get the chicken bus. These are old brightly painted United States school buses, they are so cool, so colourful, cheap and lots of fun to ride in. Luckily no chickens in the ones I traveled in. They cost about US$2-3 per hour of travel depending if you get local or tourist (gringo) rates. Loud Latin American music playing, stunning scenery, I'm filled with enthusiasm for my travels. First impressions were good, I wanted to see more of Central America.

I stayed in San Pedro de la Laguna, on the shores of Lake Atitlan, a boat ride from Panajachel. A stunning setting surrounded by coffee plantations and towering volcanoes. The Spanish Cooperative School provided my Spanish lessons and Miguel & Maria were my hosts at my home stay. Both highly recommended. An amazing experience to live with local people in the town. Most of the town's people are indigenous of Mayan descent and wear brightly coloured traditional dress. Walking through the town at night, steep cobbled streets, dim lighting, people sitting outside their houses, it took on a timeless feel.

Due to a broken tooth I had to go to Antigua to find a dentist. It was no hardship to be in Antigua. It is an incredible old Spanish colonial city. It was the capital of Guatemala until a series of earthquakes destroyed the city. A few churches and the Cathedral have been restored, many others are in ruins, huge chunks of masonry still lay where they fell. Although very touristy it's possibly one of the nicest cities I've visited. The roof top garden at the hostel was a good place to relax with my fellow travellers that included an original 1960's hippy, an artist from Italy, some english speaking Guatemalans and lots of hot chicas.

Trip to Volcan Pakaya

This has to be the scariest and most dangerous thing I have done on my travels so far. Pakaya is a 1 1/2 hours drive from Antigua. It is an active volcano. I stood less than two meters from where lava was erupting from the ground. The heat was incredible, imagine standing beside an open furnace or at the gates of hell. What if the lava flow changed course, what if it suddenly erupted beneath me?

Walking on newly solidified lava, unstable and cracking, sharp and jagged. Red hot lava inches below my feet, smell of melting rubber from peoples shoes.

Every 20 minutes a huge rumble came from the volcano sending smoke and steam billowing upwards. Was I to be a human sacrifice to the volcano?

History

I had found myself in yet another country that the US has meddled with in the name of anti-communism. In 1954 the country had a democratically elected president and was almost getting on it's feet. The socialist government wanted to buy unused land from US company United Fruit. This caused alarm to the US Government. The US government also suspected that Guatemala had communist ties and so the CIA staged a military coup to oust the Socialist President Arbenz. The coup was widely condemned by the international press and the United Nations. The coup was followed by four decades of civil war with maybe as many as 250,000 people killed and 1 million made homeless. During this time the USA supported the Guatemalan military financially and with training, and a huge amount of human rights violations took place. After the coup, the CIA was assigned to gather evidence to back up their claim. Nothing was found to suggest Guatemala had ties to the Soviet Union.

If Mexico was dangerous(?), how do I describe Guatemala. Security guards with shotguns at shops, banks and ATM's. Delivery drivers would have a security guard with shot gun pointing out of the window. A newspaper reported 1217 murders in Guatemala City during the previous 100 days (the human cost of drugs). I heard many second hand stories of people being robbed. Please note: I never felt in any danger during my stay there.

All appears good on the surface, scratch it and a different story comes out. My friend Leon (not his real name but it fits perfectly) is ex-military he tells me that after the peace accords were signed in 1996, the army was reduced to 1/3 of it's original size. That left a large amount of guns on the streets and soldiers, who weren't really suited to the life of a security guard, to join gangs and the drug cartels in Mexico. He's a good guy though and works as a tour guide now. He carried a gun though and is really not the sort of person to mess with. Further stories were offered about shootings in the streets. I had no reason to disbelieve.

The beach was calling, so with some friends from the hostel, I went to Montericco. A little beach resort on the Pacific coast made up of black volcanic sand. It's a really sleepy place with a lazy tropical feel. Many palm trees and the houses and hotels all had thatched roofs. It was fun to play in the surf but the waves were too big and the currents too stong to swim safely.

Teeth fixed up, thanks to the Clinica de la Cruz dental surgery, I headed to the airport for my flight to Mexico city. I left with a yearning to return there and also to see the rest of Central America.....

And for the children

I fly into Mexico city for a night before my flight to Vancouver. Saturday night, surely something was going on in the city. I arrived to find a huge stage set up in the Zocolo (the main square). There was to be a free concert to promote a new initiative to aid Latin America's millions of poor, malnourished and undereducated children. Ricky Martin and many other Latin American acts performed. Shakira headed a twin concert in Buenos Aires. This is new for Latin America where previously if pop stars spoke out on poverty and social issues they put their lives at risk. 120,000 people crowded into the square, it was a nice ending to my brief visit to Latin America.