Still life's from Sundays BBQ

'One' (U2)

Inside the heart of a vagabond

West of the sunset stands my house
There and east of the dawn
North to the Arctic runs my yard
South to the Pole my lawn
Seven seas to sail my ships
To the ends of the earth and beyond
Drifter's gold is for me to spend
for I am a swashbuckling vagabond

Fabulous cities are mine to loot
Queens of the earth to wed
Fruits of the world are mine to eat
The couch of a king my bed
All that I see is mine to keep
Foolish the fancy seems
But I am rich with the wealth of sights
The coin of the realm of dreams

Guatemala - The Images

Have you ever wondered
what makes you wander?
gives wings to your thoughts
and your imagination asunder?

Have you ever wondered
what lies in those places?
that bewitch the eyes
and lay claim to your senses?

Have you ever wondered
for wandering's sake?

The funkiest place in town

Current location : Guatemala city
Flew back to Guatemala city today from Flores after having crossed the border from Belize by road. Because I've been roughing it since this trip began, and as a reward for all the crummy and smutty places I've been staying in, I decided to end my stay in Guatemala in style by checking in to the coolest and funkiest place in town. So here I am in 'Otelito' (aka hotel casa santa clara)- gorgeous wooden floors, stylish but understated decor, coffee coloured walls, personalised service, obsessive attention to detail, wicked bar, free internet, free complmementary drink at the bar, free drink at check-in for god's sake(!), gorgeous food, stylish people...this place is awesome. I love it.
Hasta la-vista amigoes...

Would you Belize it?

After having spent a tranquil and starry night in the North Guatemalan lake island of Flores (after deciding to treat myself to a half decent hotel; warm water, towels, flushing toilet, shower anyone?), I got up at some evil hour in the morning and caught the first bus to the Belizean border. Land border crossings are so much less stressful affairs; no baggage checks, no testerone heavy security and no Duty-Free cash cows. Current location: Belize city

Now. many travellers take one look at Belize city, screw their face in disgust and decide that life is indeed too precious to risk it. At first glance you can see why the risk aversion. Belize city hardly looks like your picture postcard holiday destination. More so a rambling, ramshackle town with squat wooden dwellings built on stilts and a population of not very healthy looking people; burdened with all sorts of afflictions. The odorous drains and gutters let of all manner of noxious fumes that attack the senses and no doubt contribute detrimentally to the health of the inhabitants. The streets are aghast with all manner of interesting characters and comedians; Charley Dickens eat your heart out. And you always see the same faces; the regulars.
"You wan a taxee mann?"
"wat ya lookin' for maan"
"Wat can I get ya amigo?"

The streets are littered with people who live on the streets. You can sit on the sidewalk and watch the comedy (and tragedy) of street life unfold itself. This could so easily be the theatre with the best seat in town; but it's real, it's really happening and the characters are real.

There's the dark skinned mango seller screaming his heart out to any big-bossomed lady that walks by and will listen; needless to say his flattery; which borders on obscenity, fails to have the desired affect; the women scarper off as quick as their high heels will carry them. Then there's the dreadlocked old man, always standing on the same spot, at the same time, next to the same convenience store. What does he do? I watched this gem for an hour; he does nothing. Just stands there all day long watching the ladies and licking his lips and no doubt imagining what he would like to do to them, but can't on account of the fact that he is a dirty old man!

Scratch the surface and you'll find a 'real' place. Not a fake place of plastic people, but gritty, grainy; a black and white canvas city of colourful characters.
There's the lady with the hot-dog stand (old enough to be my mother), who'll sell you hot-dogs with a big fat smile. With her grinning teeth she looks like the happiest women alive. Then there's the rude-buoy unlicensed 'taxi driver' with the masshup car, funky fake shades and attitude. He'll take you anywhere. If you're willing to risk it. I did. This gem will give you back the correct change even if you forget yourself.
"make sure you take all ya stuff maan. Don't wanna be leaving any ting in my car yeah? Have a nice day. Wel-carme to Belize" - charming

Judge a book by its cover?
Not this one. I would never have Belized it.

Shit, scum, filth...welcome to the worst place on earth

Nebaj. Yeah, 'N-e-b-a-j' - write it down somewhere safe and don't forget it. If you ever hear that name on your travels, remember these words: STAY WELL CLEAR. This is quite simply the most miserable and wretched place I have ever been to. With a population of 11,000 flea infested, disease ridden, crummy folk eeking out an appalling existence at an elevation of 1,900 metres. I could try raping and pillaging the English dictionary looking for suitable adjectives to desribe this place but i'm too tired to even bother and I don't think I could do it justice. The English language was not designed for places like this. A place that time, society and progress seems to have forgotten. Progress seems to have decided to skip this town altogether as it probably felt it had its work cut out.

As you enter this gloomy town along a wind swept, potmarked, dirt track it seems you have arrived at the end of the world. But what is obvious at first glance at the local inhabitants that ply the streets; wallowing in their own filth and faeces, is that the gene pool here needs an emergency injection of fresh DNA. The inhabitants walk around like zombies and blank looks of total oblivion (or maybe they're drunk to numb the pain of existence?) - You feel; like Alexander Von Homboldt, as though you have discovered this place for the first time. You walk around looking for a bite to eat...restaurants? why would you want restaurants? Nobody visits here and the locals are too poor and spaced out for the fine dining a-la carte experience. Lucky i have a melted piece of Kit-Kat to keep me going till thre next day. Nice one.

Tourists don't visit Nebaj. Well, not usually anyway. The occasional few brave souls will make the perilous journey (these chicken bus drivers drive like lunatics) and be rewarded with squalor, misery guts and a sense of what it must have been like in the good old stone-ages. Primeval instincts take hold of you as you walk through the filthy market; you can feel the eyes of the people bearing down on you, drilling holes into your body as you stroll through. They don't get 'outsiders' here. As an outsider you are seen as a curiosity as people look at you, look away and then do a double-take and look at you again when their brains register what they have just witnessed. I spent one night here. Then left at 5:00am the next morning on the first chicken bus out of this ghost town. When you see the technicolour images with pixel gory detail you'll see what i'm talking about.

Must dash, the owner of this internet-cafe looks dodgy and is giving me evil looks. Also, it's getting dark outside; don't wanna be hanging around when the werewolves come out to eat...

Current location: Cobain. Still alive; just about. Hang on in there mate, you'll be fine.

Current Status of Mission 'Loss me Marbles'

Physical state : Alive
Current Location : Panajchel (Guatemala) - Hippy paradise. Beautiful. Especially when stoned.
Future plans : This is where it starts getting interesting. Will chicken-bus it and hitchhike across Guatemala and hopefully make it to the Belize border on Fri. Have ample weed to keep me stoned for the duration of this suicide trip.
Reservations: Apparently this less travelled route is swarming with bandits and dirt-bags. Also, have not bought warm clothing so will probably freeze to death in the highlands.
Final destination : San Ignacio (Belize)
Over and out. See you on the other side.

P.S: Mum, I love you.