8 Bit Odyssey

Sometimes it’s more about the journey than the destination. At least that’s what I was telling myself, riding shotgun in a pick-up truck and hurtling down a bumpy dirt track while laden with five dozen eggs. And did I mention that it was dark and there were bats darting about? I can’t even claim this was some kind of bizarre initiation ritual or a prototype for a new Mario Kart challenge and my cries of “Catch him Derry!” and “We can’t stop here, this is bat country!” clearly got lost in translation. I didn’t even know where I was going but boy was I going there in a hurry. Fortunately for all concerned I’m a seasoned ‘catch the egg’ player (if you need me to explain the rules we probably shouldn’t be friends) and despite a bit of ring rust I handled myself with consummate professionalism and diligence. Not bad given I’d spent the previous nine hours cooped up in the back of a minibus. Admittedly I was aided by the fact that a) I didn’t want to be the butt of any ‘the yolk’s on you’ g...

Tikal was one of the things I was most looking forward to on my trip and it didn’t disappoint. One of the biggest Mayan sites, with some of the tallest structures in Mesoamerica, it’s arguably the daddy of them all. The 4.30 start was not ideal but it could have been worse and it got us to the gates for opening and given we beat both the crowds and the rain I’m not complaining. I took another tour here and this one was excellent. It took in a large swathe of the site, including the main pyramids, was informative and didn’t feel rushed. We had time to do our own thing at the main plaza and you’re permitted to climb a lot of the buildings, which was a bonus. The sun even attempted to come out before deciding it didn’t much fancy it. Plus who doesn’t love a guide who offers advice like “If you have a joint, save it for Temple IV”? I didn’t see anyone light up but the panorama of the jungle and the tops of more temples was spectacular. As an added bonus, it’s also a great place fo...

One of the things that instantly made me warm to Belize was the fact that they seem to enjoy a pun at the expense of the country’s name. I saw many in my time and I don’t think they were purely aimed at tourists - I saw plenty of locals attired in punning t-shirts and hand-written shop signs. It’s an English-speaking country, which I knew, and is in the Commonwealth, which I did not, so I was surprised to see Liz on the banknotes. ‘Go slow’ seems to be the country’s motto and that seems apt as it’s a very relaxed kind of a place. I left my island paradise behind, hopping on a ferry to the mainland and then boarding a bus for San Ignacio. It’s a small town in the west of the country and a bit of a travellers’ hub. My hostel was a fantastic building, set over five floors, with a ramshackle feel, lots of different nooks and wings, and a tree growing up through the central courtyard. It felt a bit like the Burrow in Harry Potter. The first evening had free rum punch and African drummin...

Not food. Except, of course, for other fish. That was the first takeaway from my snorkelling trip. If you’re in a place famous for its watersports then I figure you should probably give something a go. And therefore I took the plunge (ba-doom tish) for my maiden snorkelling voyage on the world’s second largest barrier reef. We started with a couple of sightseeing trips. First, to see seahorses - tiny and, if I’m honest, barely visible - and then the rather more impressive tarpons. These hefty fish can grow up to 2.5 metres and are a protected species in Belize (oh yeah, I’m in Belize) and started to circle the boat, knowing that they were going to be fed. We were shown how to hold a fishy treat just above the surface and then wait for the tarpon to leap out of the water and snatch it from our hand. After flinging a few fish to some nearby pelicans the warm-up was complete and we moved on to the main event. I can’t say I was a natural snorkeller and I can say I was quite nervou...

An Australian guy, a Swedish guy and an Israeli girl walk into a bar. They’re all wearing Liverpool shirts. They proceed to drink throughout the match against Manchester City, doing tequila shots every time a goal was scored. The game finished 4-3 so they were pretty happy. It also kicked off at 11am local time. This was the first football I’ve watched and I certainly picked the game for it. In this bar in a small town in Mexico it seemed an amazing example of how at its best football can bring people together around the world. It was an advert for friendship and for football. It was not an advert for the art of defending or for responsible drinking but you can’t have everything. I realise I’ve basically just talked extensively about a football match that I watched but this was one of the few things that broke up my trip to Tulum. The vast majority of my time there was spent on the beach - or walking to it, as it was a fair schlep from the town. In spite of the sporadic sunshine, thi...

My sojourn in the southernmost region of Mexico half over, it was time to leave the mountains behind and head back from whence I had come. Palenque is a small unremarkable town with a quite remarkable set of Mayan ruins just outside. It was my (and presumably most other people’s) primary reason for visiting. But more on that later.  One pleasantly uneventful bus journey later, I arrived in town to discover I had well and truly swapped the chill mountain air for the humidity of the jungle. More than this, though, it was the noise of the night, the incessant background hum and chatter, that truly made it feel like I was somewhere quite different.  Enjoying the luxury of a room of one’s own (which could admittedly have slept four), I was up before the crack of dawn for the first of two consecutive day trips. Yaxchilan is a Mayan ruin some distance away on the Guatemalan border. A long minibus ride was followed by a 45-minute boat trip down the river dividing the two coun...

Or rather San Cristóbal and bussed.  For while Chiapas, in the far south of Mexico was my destination, the reality is that it’s rather a long way from where I was. Thus began an epic almost-24-hour bus journey that I believe qualifies as the longest single trip that I’ve ever taken.  Can’t complain about  the service though - plenty of leg room, seats that go way back and private headphone sockets for the TV. Inexplicably, however, no buses seem to have individual lights so it was reading by day, podcasting by night. I even managed to grab a couple of hours of something vaguely resembling sleep, which was a definite bonus. Having swapped coast for mountains, I finally arrived, feeling better than anticipated. The remaining trips will all feel like a walk in the park from now on I’m sure. As for San Cristóbal - officially San Cristóbal de las Casas - I’m relieved to say that it was worth the wait. It’s a small city about the same size as Oxford and it’s easy to se...

I’ve had ‘Feliz Navidad’ stuck in my head for what feels like days - and I haven’t even heard the damn song. Or Slade, Mariah or anything else festive for that matter. And yet somehow we are still within the twelve days of Christmas. There are still Christmas trees and decorations up and it all feels slightly incongruous. Partly this is because I associate the season with the kind of whiteout that’s hit large swathes of North America rather than the sun, sea and sandals that has been part of my daily existence here. And partly this is because Christmas feels like bloody ages ago. I bet that bit doesn’t change wherever you are. Tomorrow is Three Kings, though all I really want as a present is for once to be able to sleep while in transit as I have an epic bus journey to look forward to. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m in Valladolid and it’s very pleasant. Without wanting to sound like I’m damning with faint praise, pleasant is a fitting word. It’s a pretty - and pretty small - co...

I write this sitting in a hammock. That is, all of me is in the hammock, except for my other hand, which is nursing a 40p rum and Coke. Which you are free - and quite right - to take as a good thing. And I’m in the market for good things. That is, after all, the point of the exercise. See the world, visit some amazing places, grow as a person and all that jazz. Today, at least, I feel like I have racked up a small victory somewhere. It hasn’t all been plain sailing though. To go back to the start, I got up stupidly early on New Year’s Day, said an emotional farewell to Lauren and bus-plane-bused my way from Oxford to Cancún. Which despite the glamorous destination sounds less than idyllic. The flight was late leaving and at the other end waiting for baggage and then bus seemed to take an eternity. I should probably get used to the pace of life but I suspect in reality I was simply tired and grumpy. Being awake for 24 hours and spending them in transit will probably do that for you. S...