Sandy paths leading by the high cliffs, surrounded by thousands of wild flowers in all colors. No one else got the idea to walk this route so I feel as god himself, all alone on this ingenious world.

To feel the soft, warm sand between my toes is true bliss and the icy cold water makes them tingle. Unfortunately I did burn my skin, it’s as read as a tomatoes peel. Also the skin on top of my head, for I shove my hair clean of.

A new start, a new day.

Two wonderful weeks have passed and I achieved a lot. Perhaps the most important achievement is that I quit smoking. ‘Cold Turkey’ as they say here in the USA.

It is most important for my development because the smoking and drinking are true blockades during my meditations. Blockades of fear which cause a lack of trust.

To continue my inner evolution I had to break certain old patterns that held my Self back.

Gandhi, the Great Soul from India, once spoke the wise words “ BE the change you wish for the world”.

Since I have the devotion and the time to strive towards this wisdom I started disciplining my Self by doing Ashtanga Yoga. To balance my body but especially my Self.

It’s not that I desire the people of the world to start doing yoga but to me it is the ideal way to return to my inner peace and quiet, which enables me to return my love for life tó life.

The free time, which I enjoy so much, is mostly spend on development of my Self and on self reflection.

There are days where I retreat within the wonderful nature and there are days where I go and look for the contact with others. It seems quite hard for me to connect with the people from Santa Barbara, mainly because this is the city of the ‘rich and wealthy’ (the 4 year back, pre-camino Roland would have loved it!). Luckily the like-minded people are always everywhere, it’s only more difficult to find them.

I’ve already met a few nice girls and this Thursday I go to the birthday party of Ryan’s Girlfriend (Ryan is the son of my mothers new husband Francisco).

I also have my work for 2 to 3 days a week and I’ve picked up on my reading, writing, painting and all other good things in life!

I also started studying Spanish, finally! Ever since my first Camino in 2008 I’ve been meaning to start.

This is a journey, only not as physical as the previous years. This time I will stick around in the same place, living with my mother.

This time it will be a more conscious inner journey.

During the lonely, backpacking journeys I always leave it up to life to decide what experiences and realizations are given to me, like a leaf on the wind I blow. This way I don’t force a thing and everything comes at it’s natural time.

This time however, the journey is more inert and it is me whom decides what to experience, to transform the negatives into positives.

It is still difficult for me to not be smoking, not be drinking and not using hasjies but I DO IT anyway. My ego keeps reminding me of the old patterns but my Self is stronger now, for I have the t(h)rust within.

Being ‘the change you wish for the world’ asks for a lot of input and devotion and in the end nothing is guaranteed but I still want to see. I want to see what lays ahead, when I actually manage to BE the change.

“You can be who you want to be, for it has always been you”.

Love and Light.

The Austrian girls were still not back from their hike and so I left them a note. I went to the bar with Evan, Agustin, Lupe and Clarita. We drank our beers, smoked our joints and then Sandra was up. Dressed subtle but traditional as a gypsy, she shook her hips and nicely shaped but on sweet, mellow Indian music. All eyes on her, she performed during two songs and later joined us after a loud applause. Happy state of mind, we all continued drinking and got crazier by the minute.
We decided to go to the Freedom bar and off we went.
On our way over, in an alley, we ran into one of the local youngsters. Out of his mind he was, probably had used all the drugs he could find in town that night. I asked if he had any weed on him to sell and we got real lucky. Out of his pocket he pulled a big bag of weed. When he opened it, the scent almost knocked us over, some good quality! We took advantage of the situation and bought the bag for closetonothing. Agustin and I, we were dancing like little kids getting their happy-meal. There was a crazy-ass rave going on at the Freedom bar and in the garden we rolled one up. Real stoned, I tried to find my way to the bar to get some beers and I noticed the local youngster on the dance floor. He was raving, raving like I had seen one of my friends rave once, after he had taken ketamine. Nasty drugs but the youngster seemed to enjoy himself.

I noticed that Clarita had arrived and I called for her but she had a wild look in her eyes, something was wrong. Apparently Sandra’s purse had been stolen by one of the locals and this is where shit hit the fan. A crazy American dude started to intervene and was bragging that he was a ex-marine. He had lived in San Pedro for a while and said he knew who had stolen her purse. He left the bar to get his ‘piece’, in other words: his gun. Later when he returned he did not have his gun, luckily, but he did have the thief and he started kicking the little youngster in his stomach. With immense power he smacked him into a brick wall and still stumbling the little youngster ran off.
When happened next frightened us all. Forty-seven local elders blocked the street and surrounded the ‘marine’. We kept our distance because things looked real nasty for the crazy, American white-face. Luckily they wanted to talk first and so the ‘marine’ told them his story, now the local elders turned to the youngster and stared a lynch-hunt to find him. They never did, thank god. All bars were closed and everybody had to go home. Sandra never saw her purse again.
That next morning when I awoke the Austrian girls had left for Mexico and had left me a sweet, long letter. Goodbye Charlie it said. Goodbye Angels.

Sandra and Clarita were leaving too, they were heading for Antigua. A sad moment because we could have had so many more awesome moments together. We shared that last morning painting Sandra’s pants, Clarita gave me a re-hair-cut and then we gave sweet hugs and kisses. They asked me to join them but I said no, after all I wanted to go to Mexico-City to meet up with Angelica. More hugs and more kisses followed and then we said our sweet goodbyes.
I stayed in San Pedro for a couple more days, hanging with Evan, Agustin and Lupe. Chilling, smoking, drinking until I realized that I would never make it to Mexico-City with the little money that I had left and decided to fly from Guatemala-City instead.

I had to go back to Antigua after all.

I went back to Antigua, to stay for one more day, hoping to find the two crazy cats. I never did, sadly.
Instead I ran into a group of Israeli’s I had met before and we decided to go to the live volcano and climb that beauty! Well climb.. On our way up we decided to go by horse-back and it was so sad. The horses were underfed, you could play drums on their ribs. Sweating and steaming too. No energy left and little kids smacked them to make them move up instead of standing still. I felt horrible, it was abuse. When my horse wouldn’t go any further I got off and let it be.
Still a steep climb ahead on my allstars and it was a dangerous one. All the lava (cooled down magma) was loose and big chunks of it would come rolling down the hill. Finally we made the top and it was so gorgeous. The view over the other volcanoes, the magma moving, the heat we felt.
On my way down I saw this woman, crying. She was so afraid, it was a dangerous climb after all. She wouldn’t move, just cry and be crazy, loosing herself. Christin; a girl from Wisconsin and I, we calmed her down and convinced her to go down. We got a guide to help her do it. I walked behind her to hold her when she would fall and then I heard a shout from up the hill. “Watch out! Rock coming!” A huge chunk of lava was rolling down, coming straight at us. The woman had lost her balance and was sitting down. The chunk would hit her right on her spine and so I had to decide. A scream followed.
My scream. I had placed my leg between her back and the chunk and so it hit me on my calf, scraping off the skin with all its force. It hurt like a #&^%@! but was a better option than her spine.
She thanked us when we made it to the bottom, almost in one piece, and when we got down we bussed back to Antigua. Back in the hostel I cleaned the wound from all the lava-dust and got ready to party.
I, the Israelis and the two Wisconsin girls went into the downtown and found the last open bar. We got drunk and the Israelis and two girls started dancing on the bar, out of their minds they were, after a load of Tequila shots. Unfortunately it was late and the bar closed shortly after our arrival and we left the join. We walked the streets to find an other open bar but without result. I was done for the night and we all said our goodbyes.

Off to the airport. The end of my second journey. A true pleasure it was and so many memories and whisdom gained.

Off to Antigua! Asphalt roads lead us there while passing beautiful views which reminded me of northern Mexico, and we passed through the heart of Guatemala City. An absolute crazy city. It was hard to breathe there because of all the smog, hundreds of school busses, pimped-up to be regular transportation, leaving their thick black smog behind. Thousands of people going places with suitcases and packs. A dangerous city I’ve been told, not willing to find out after witnessing Belize City, done with that.

When we arrived in Antigua we felt it immediately, the cobblestone streets made sure of that. A remarkable city with it’s nice streets, all its colonial architecture, pretty central park and incredible view over the two volcanoes, of which one is active and spits smoke daily. Although it did not feel like true Guatemala at all, we sure did enjoy ourselves. Nice coffee-bars, café’s such as ‘Frida’s’, diners and even the possibility to go dance and appreciate live music! It’s a more developed and hip city. After getting our kicks all round the city that night, we went to our hostel to continue the drinkin in my room. Out of our minds we were and in the hallway I found a dude from Mexico and he was smoking his weed all on his own. I invited him over and all he spoke was Spanish. We drank some more and took hits from his pipe and all got real stoned. Tired too, yes. Shortly after we all passed out.
The next day we were ready to leave the city. Off to San Pedro we went, by bus.

San Pedro is the most amazing place, the nicest place I ever visited (sharing the first place with Isla de la Piedra, Mexico). A long bus ride took us high up in the mountains, until we arrived at Lago de Atitlan. The most beautiful sight: a giant lake surrounded by volcanoes, so immense. A steep drive down followed and slowly we got closer to San Pedro, the small city built on Vulcan San Pedro itself. When we arrived in the city Evan from Australia and Agustin and Lupe from Argentina decided to join us since we knew where the cheapest hostel was.

That night I shared a room with the girls and we all decided to go out as a group. The six of us went downtown and found the Freedom bar. A very mellow place with lounge area, awesome music and great food. We ate some and started drinkin’. The girls from Austria got tired and went off to bed since they were going to climb the volcano the next morning. I continued

I, Agustin and Evan

drinking with Evan, Agustin and Lupe and we had the best time ever. Real nice peeps they were.
When I awoke the following day, I had seen almost every bar and drink the town had to offer. My head told me so since it felt like a train run over it and I had the breathe of death. The girls were gone, hiking. I got ready and joined up with the Evan. We went back to the Freedom bar to have some breakfast and beers in their tree-house. After those beers the hangover was history.

While we were chilling and enjoying the awesome view, mellow as we were, a

The tree-house

 sexy cat came laying in the grass below us. We were eyeballing her and talking about her, not caring too much of what she’d think. When she got up and appeared to leave we were honestly sad, she seemed like a wild one. We got in kind of a shock when she, unexpectedly, walked up our tree-house stairs instead of leaving the joint. If she could enjoy the view from up there. Hell’s yeah sugarlips! I invited her to come sit with us and she did.
Her name was Sandra and she was Spanish, traveling around on her own. The craziest thing happened after that. She took a scissor from her purse and started re-modeling her pony. We were laughing our asses off, crazy cat she was! I asked her to cut my sideburns and she did, a neat job I thought.
She continued cutting her hair and not much later her friend joined us, up in the tree-house. Clarita was her name. A beautiful blond with eyes that made me drown, a petite body she had too and she was young, full of energy and life itself. She was half German and half French and spoke fluent Spanish. The

The cut by Clarita

most beautiful hippy I ever met. During my trip trough I fell in love daily and occasionally more than once a day but with Clarita it was different. She had such a incredible vibe, something mysterious too, I was fond of her, she made my head spin round. In a crazy mood we all were and Clarita wanted to do my hair. She cut away the hair on the side, high up and I really dug it. It looked exactly as whom I had become. Later Sandra started cutting Clarita’s hair and gave her the same haircut as Clarita had given me, the result made her look even sexier. Later that day we all split up to get ready for the show that night, Sandra was gonna belly dance in the ‘Zoola-bar’..

–Find the rest in my next post–

After a short bus ride I crossed the border and it was such a different world once again.  Finally back to the Spanish

Jungle hotels

language, which I still didn’t speak, and their music. Belize was awesome but even though it’s a whole new world, it felt too familiar because of its English speaking natives and the reggae blasting from their speakers.
The main road passing through dense jungle, leading from the Guatemala border to the closest city is still unpaved and hardly possible to drive on, especially after the heavy rainfall they’d had. The bus slipped through the mud from the left to the right, slowly, towards El Remate. I stayed there overnight to go see the very impressive Maya ruins of Tikal the next morning but unfortunately I did not have enough Quetzales on me (Guatemalan money) to go and explore. The village had no ATM and so I had to continue my way, with the little money I had left, to the closest city called ‘Flores’.
I withdrew my cash there and was not sure what to do next. I knew the ruins would be very much worth it but also that it would be very touristic and traveling back the way I came from is not how I roll. Maybe I had to keep it for my next trip and just go down south. Still undecided I wandered through the streets of Flores and there I ran into three Austrian girls. I had seen and talked with them before; on the beach of Tulum in Mexico, on Kaye Kaulker in Belize and at the Maya ruins of San Ignacio. Apparently they had seen my face ever since Cancun, Mexico and they had travelled the same way as I. We hung for a short while and decided than that I’d join them for a while on their trip down.

A bus ride took us from the hearth of Guatemala all the way down to El Relleno at the Rio Dulce, a giant lake at the south-west of the country which leads all the way west, to the Caribbean sea. We hopped of the bus in the one and only main street of the town and it was absolutely crazy. Loud music blasting from speakers, cars and busses without smog filters roaring by, venders screaming for the attention of the locals and few tourists to buy their product, pollo asada being fried untill they´d turn black on the barbeques. Just like the crazy images you know from the television about hectic India. Absolutely crazy.
When we entered an alley, leaving the wickedness behind, everything changed. We had a marvelous view over the lake, quite impressive. Speed-/sailing-boats and catamarans, in all sizes, laying for anchor out on the lake or in the harbour. This where we took a little speed boat which took us to the other side of the lake. It was already dark when we entered the jungle. Passing the mangroves and ducking for branches which ended in the water we arrived at our lodge for that evening. The entire building was built on poles in the heart of the jungle. A walkway brought us through the jungle to our two private bedrooms. Muy tranquilo, hanging in the hammocks we got drunk.

Where they live

That next day we took a bigger speed boat which took us to Livingston, the last Guatemalan town down the river, at the Caribbean sea. The two hour boat ride showed us all of Guatemala. Speeding through the canyon, with all its greenery ending in the water. Little huts built all along the way on their high poles and since the only transportation is over water and the people living there are incredibly poor, they do everything by canoe. There even was a little supermarket and health-care along the river. Little children in canoes tried to cell us the only product they had: river crabs. What a completely different life they live.
Livingston itself was a neat town with some beautiful women walking around because of the Creole influences. Here too they played their reggae.            – I noticed that the Guatemalan women are not that attractive, mainly because they are rather short and wide. When I’d be sitting at the table in a restaurant and the waiter would come for the order, I’d be looking straight into her eyes. That short.  Me, a rather short guy in Holland was a giant down the south.-                        The next day, back in El Relleno, we took a chicken-bus to the west. A crazy-ass, non-touristic bus ride through the mountains. The bus was originally made for 20 passengers but miraculously they managed to fit 38 persons + one chicken in there. Sure the slide-door could not be closed so at least two Guatemalans would be hanging on the side of the bus. Not one paved road we passed and the bus would not go any

One with nature

faster than 20km per hour. A crazy long ride for such a short distance, five hours it took but so very much worth it. We had seen and experienced the true Guatemala. We passed the smallest villages I’d ever seen. Old men we would pass and they would be carrying a 1,5 meter high stack of firewood on their backs. It was quite cold up in the mountains but the native kids still wouldn’t bother to wear any clothes. Also doubtful things would be going on; packages would be given to the driver and dropped off at other locations along the road, money would be handed and taken, farmers would be walking around with machine guns. Little kids standing by the side of the road with big machetes in their tiny hands, just watching the bus pass by. Trafficking cocaine from Colombia or maybe home-grown marijuana, I don’t know but it didn’t feel right. It did feel safe however. We were riding the bus to Lanquin but it never made it there. An hour before arriving in Lanquin they stopped the bus in a small town and wouldn´t continue. They took our backpacks of the top and that was that. We got ripped of hard and had to take it, being the only white faces in the town, observed by every local. Like it was arranged (and I’m sure it was) a passenger van passed us by and was willing to take us to Lanquin for a big sum of money. I did not care, we bargained some and got the ride. It was a wicked experience and I felt sorry for their corrupt souls.

Grutas de Lanquin

In Lanquin we visited the caves where Mayas did their rituals. They went on for twelve km and it was incredibly hot in there, just like a sauna. Bare-chested I walked around and couldn’t see a damn thing caused by the moist on my glasses. We went into the caves belly but only for a hundred meters. 3 rangers guarded the entrance, holding their automatic weapons. One had a shotgun. That´s not just for safety, that gun blows someones head right off. For the rest it was a quiet town, with not much going on. We stayed over for the night and continued our way the following day.

Continued our way towards Antigua and once again took a chicken bus.

The two hour bus ride passes by the little villages. All the fields are quite swampy and in almost every garden you find scrap cars. The houses are painted in colors as mint-green and pink. The villages are quite poor, the houses and buildings needed a new paint coating 20 years ago and in the garden, besides the scrap cars, you’ll find some crates for the people to sit on. Old, yellow american school busses are to be found all along the trip, also in the gardens, for sale. The main road even passes right trough a big graveyard.
At night time we finally arrived in Belize City and this is where we wanted to take the ferry to one of the islands, called Kaye Caulker. We just had missed the last ferry for the day so we got ourselves a cab and he brought us to a city guesthouse. We asked the cab driver if he knew where to get some excellent weed and this he did. We dropped our backpacks in our room and continued our ride with the cab driver. He told us about the danger of Belize City, how United States criminals where deported here and how the criminals took over without any problem. Gang wars are a standard within the city. The city is divided by a river which runs trough and the northern territory is controlled by the ‘Cribs’, the southern territory by the ‘Bloods’. We witness it ourselves since we are in the cab, driving trough both territories to dodge the police. There was a real animalistic vibe around. Youngsters, I mean real gangsters, grouping up on the street corners, looking for every movement, looking at us, 3 white backpackers, inside the cab. I’ve seen gangster movies and all, but this was nothing like it, this was the real deal man. Even the main street of the city did not feel safe one bit and even though I was scared, I had to laugh. Thinking about all those youngsters in Holland, trying to be gangsters; dangerous and cool. They would shit their pants walking around here during the night. Luckily the cabdriver was a local of the area and respected too. People would talk to him, telling that cops where around. We couldn’t understand their language since it was creole, broken english.
We drove around for about 30 minutes, witnessing it all and finally the cab driver parked his car and run off to get the weed. The street was dark so we could blend in with the darkness and not be seen. Dodgy people passed us while we waited and the only two kids I’ve seen in the city passes us by at that moment. They where playing with plastic toy guns, blowing each others brains out. Nice… The cab driver came running back, gave me a bag full of weed since I was sitting in front and we smelled and checked it while the cab driver drove us back to the guest house. Hallelujah, could this be.. Excellent weed?
Gratefully and still a little out of it we said goodbye to the driver and prayed the holy mary that we where still alive. Up in the room we talked about the wickedness we had witnessed and what a scary but awesome experience it had been. We rolled one up, a real fat one and we where in heaven. At the time we didn’t know but this was the best weed we would smoke during our trip.
At a little restaurant in our street we went for something to eat and the food was alright. Outside I went for a cigaret and saw a old bum walking around. He had dreadlocks, the biggest pile of dreadlocks I have ever seen, bound on his head, about the size of 3 pillows stacked on top of each other. He had sort of a straw broom with him and wanted to give it to Calle, he took it but then the dreadlock rasta wanted money for it. “It’s great to keep away they flies man” he told us. No thanks brother we replied. Crazy night it was.

Ready to leave the mad but once, a lifetime ago, beautiful Belize city behind us and so in the morning we hopped onto the ‘ferry’, a big speedboat with two massive engines in the back. A crazy machine, blasting over the water, passing all the

True Caribbean for ya

little islands with mangroves and jungle ending in the beautiful blue sea. After a wild, 30 minute ride we arrive at Kaye Caulker. A true Caribbean island, we arrived in heaven.
They play reggae everywhere, the houses are all colorful, the beach is rather small but the water is crystal clear blue and has a nice temperature. We drop our backpacks somewhere and start walking around the island before getting a place to stay. Small paths lead us to the tip of the island where it all of a sudden changes into a swamp/jungle. We decided to continue and it turned out to be real difficult and we lost our way since there was no path. Then out of nowhere this dog showed up, joyful and all. It barked at us and guided us the way. When it had lost sight of us it would return for us to catch up. A wicked, forty-five minute walk, following a joyful dog brought us back to the islands airstrip. We walked over the airstrip and found our way back to civilization and we never saw the dog again. Later on we found out that there are crocodiles living in that swamp, nice…

Cabana view

We collected our packs and got ourselves a cabana, which is a little apartment standing on high poles on the beach, overlooking the caribbean sea. It also had a sweet little porch with a big hammock. Heaven, yes. All we do is kick back, hard, and get high and drink our beers. At night the view over the sky with all it’s stars is breath taking and we chill a little more. In the morning we go to the ’split’, where the island literally is split in half because of a tornado, not so long ago. Here people kick back and swim. We drink our beers and smoke some more and rent snorkel sets. Below the water level you still find poles, doors, and other stuff indication that not so long ago there where houses standing strong. Now the fish took over and it’s a neat sight.
Later that night, around midnight, we decide to kick back on our porch and so we drop our blankets, food, beers, weed and music and start chillin. Then Martin closes the door and he had left the only key inside the cabana. Goddamned Martin! The reception was closed so we where screwed, there was no other option but sleeping outside. We smoked some more to ease the pain a little and we where lucky that our blankets where outside because it got real cold that night.
The next morning Martin checks if the reception is open yet, and they are! Yeah! Quickly I jump into my uncomfortable bed which never felt so damn comfortable before and I get some more hours of sleep. During the afternoon while we’re walking around downtown, we loose track of Martin and find him an hour later, hanging with Gilbert, the Rasta Mary J King of the island, aka Mouthy. Greg, a dude from Kansas also joined up. And the five of us go for a smoke at some Reggae bar. Greg has rum with him and shares with us. My stomach is empty so it kicks in straight away. After some more of that we go to Fran’s food-shed and Fran, a big, happy belizean woman, serves us. Great meals this sweet woman serves. With some flattering I hustle an extra brownie/cheese-cake which I save for my munchies and then a little later, I head for my bed.

Greg, Mouthy and I

We left the island the next day, to go to San Ignacio, close to the Mexican border on the very west of Belize. Greg decided to join us on our trip and so that very morning we all grouped up at the boat dock. He had a different boat than us so we left a little earlier and would meet up in Belize city. Leaving the beautiful island was sad but it was time too. The island is small and 3 days is enough, I’d say. Leaving the safe island behind us and returning to Belize city was once again an other story. People tried to hustle us but it definitely felt much safer than during the nights, more social control by other locals. Greg was nowhere to be found and so we walked to the bus station without him. We had to wait for an hour for the bus to arrive and when we hopped on and just left the station we saw Greg passing by on the curve. Quickly I stopped the bus and called for him, re-united at last and off we went, to San Ignacio.
In the late afternoon we arrived and we decided to go for a beer first before finding a hostel. We have our beers in cafe ‘Faya Wata’ (Fire water) and play pool. It doesn’t take long for us to get drunk. When we got hungry we went to the weirdest restaurant I’ve ever been. The owner, a fat Russian guy with a three-musketeers mustache commanded his, way too young waitresses, around. The girls have no clue of what they’re doing and the youngest one says she’s belizean but it’s impossible to understand her, like she’s simple in a way too. She flirts with me and it freaks me out because everything is so weird and doesn’t feel right at all. Anyway, we had our food on the balcony on the second floor, overlooking the main street and the food wasn’t that bad.
Later that evening a cool, bum-looking local walks up the stairs with a turtle shell and a pair of sticks. An interesting instrument and Calle starts banging the sticks onto the shell. The man returns with two drums and I have my xylaphone with me. Music was born. The music fills the street below us and more locals join up with us. An old fellow joined as well, the craziest guy ever! He had a harmonica with him and rocked the show! An other local, whom is drunk and out of his mind starts a sort of singing/humming/moaning on a real high level and we laugh our asses off. There we are, 3 white backpackers, rocking with the locals and all of us connect right there on that balcony. We pass the instruments and try all of them, one dude is an excellent drummer and this is where I decide that I want to learn how to play that very instrument. For hours we keep rockin and drinking and laughing, the waitress still creeping me out a little. When the owner has had enough he closes the bar and when we go back down, on the street and we notice that we’re the only ones around. We say goodbye to our dear local friends, maybe until tomorrow.

Luckily the tour-office is still open and we let them make a call to ‘The Parrots-Nest’, a hostel. They’re still open and one of the locals drives us there for cheap.  He drives like crazy, so fast, and the asphalt turns into sand and later even into a dirt road. We enter the jungle way beyond midnight. The owner is waiting for us and guides us. From the open kitchen he walks up front with his flashlight, into the jungle passing other cabanas and and the very end of the path, next to the river is our cabana. Big bed, warm shower, a big porch, massive hammock, what else do you need!?   Sleep.
We decided to do a tour, canoeing trough the caves, and so a van picks up us in the morning.
We and some other ‘tourists’ drive of into the mountains and we pass trough jungle and onto little dirt-roads. We pass an area which is owned by religious europeans, living of the grid and radar, without any technology. A lot alike the Amish but called Mennonites. Weird? Don’t know, strange definitely but they did an amazing job in preserving the nature and living on their land. I’ve never seen nature that clean before in Belize. Everything looked well organized. Anyway, we arrived at the riverside and there was this Spider monkey. A sad sight to see a wild animal walking around with a leash but also an opportunity for me to see him from up close. It was a real cool monkey, swinging around, eating his banana like a professional and he didn’t look unhappy, not like they do at the zoo.

Belly of the mountain

We got into our canoes, all equipped with batteries and flashlights and there we went; into the cave. In the belly of the mountain we stopped and all turned of the flashlights and there was no noise. A claustrophobic experience but real nice and spiritual also. Mayans used to come here, back in the day, to meditate and do their ceremonies. I can see why. Speaking of mayas, the next day we went to see the Maya ruins!
As the only ones we entered the park which is located in the jungle, we follow the dirt path towards the ruins and ended up at these immense buildings of which they did not even know they existed until 40 years ago. Crazy, yes. We wandered around, climbed the immense stairs, went into little hallways, little rooms and tried to picture ourselves walking around here, seven-hundred years ago. On the highest tower of them all we rested and had a smoke. Peaceful and quiet. Then some gringo’s came and disturbed the peace. This woman climbed up, next to us and started yelling to her

Mayan ruins

friends “joehoe, John, look at me! I’m all the way up here, haha”! I told her to zip it and show more respect to this spiritual place but she looked at me with a face, had no clue what I was talking about. Her Belizean guide however looked at me with a satisfied and appreciating smile. Quickly we left the ruins behind us, satisfied with the peaceful experience we had.
We continued our walk to an Iguana care-centre. I love Iguanas, they look so prehistoric, remind me of that crazy Jurassic Park stuff. The guide, a true Iguana lover, showed us around the Jungle area and  told us all about the Iguana and why it’s endangered. Apparently the native indians love the Iguana meat. He would place the biggest ones on our arms and shoulders and place the alpha males close to each other to show their behavior. There where also some horny Iguanas humping the females and biting in their necks to keep them still. They had a breeding program going and had more than a 100 tiny Iguanas running around. I ended up having 15 Iguanas on me, including one on my head. I wish I could take one of them with me, they’re so mad.

Later that evening, chilling in the hammock on the porch of our cabana I saw my first Iguana in the wild and it was a beauty. The biggest one I’d ever seen and a beautiful orange. It just laid there for hours, until the sun set and I went of to bed.

This was my last day in the amazing Belize. It was easier for me, considering that they all spoke english. Tomorrow I will enter the unknown once again: Guatemala. Leaving the Swedish and Kansas Greg behind me.

Real Coffee!

In a blink of an eye I arrive in Cancun city. Big hotels all around, tons of gringo’s and gringa’s and Mexicans racing around to satisfy the needs of those. Ai, where did I end up… I take a cab to the hostel I looked up the other day and the cab driver tells me all about Belize, since he’s from around there. “Beautiful girls there man, all golden brown skin and beautiful blue eyes. Jungle like you wouldn’t believe and the Key islands man, absolutely stunning” , can’t wait I tell him. He gives me some weed from his private stash and I get out. I check in at the hostel and drop my packpack, first things first: Coffee!  Hallelujah, not far from the hostel I find an actual coffee-shop! Not the ones we’ve got in Holland where youcan smoke you’re green, but just excellent coffee. After two cappuccinos with triple espresso shots I feel super high and got big, wide eyes. Wow, let’s do this! Back at the hostel I meet two Swedish guy’s; Calle (twenty) and Martin (nineteen) and hyper the three of us walk around the downtown area (which isn’t ruined by the tourism). Cool dudes I say to myself, profound conversations about life, journeys, et cetera. We spend the entire day together and smoke weed and drink beers in the evening.  When I, as the last one around, return to my bed I find a gorgeous girl sleeping in it. They overbooked the hostel. I think about hopping next to her but decide that’s too crazy. That night I sleep on the ground.

Music night @ la Playa

The next morning I decide to go to the little Island in front of the coast of Cancun, called Isla Mujeres, and the Swedish guy’s decide to join me.  We take a ferry to the Island, hoping to leave the tourist madness behind us but no, this island too is consumed by the gringo’s. No cars are allowed on the island so lazy, fat ones drive around in golf carts. AaarGh, the horror! We rent bikes and cycle around the Island, at the tip of the Island there are supposed to be some maya ruins! When we arrive we are so disappointed. To see the tiny ruin you have to pay a lot of money and these mad idiots came up with the idea to place hideous iron sculptures around the ruin, painted in awful colors and nothing to do with the mayans. We cycle back to the city center and on our trip we find a beautiful spot to camp out for the night, see I wanted to sleep on the beach and the Swedish wanted so too, since they where sleep-on-the-beach virgins. After an awesome meal in the downtown we buy our foods for the night and walk of to the beach. We collect wood on our way over there and get installed. We smoke and drink lots, these Swedish are unstoppable! We listen to, and make music while we’re spacing. We never managed to get the fire to work because it was way to windy, unfortunately. Tired and wasted we fall asleep underneath the stars.

The Swedish have 10 days to kill before they have a flight from Cancun to Jamaica and they dig hanging with me so they decide to join me on my trip to Belize. Sweet, couse I dig hanging with them. We are so fed up with Cancun. It’s such a sad sight; all the tourists acting the way they do, the unhappy Mexicans serving them and knowing they are fed up with the gringo way. It’s the place to be if you don’t want to experience the mexican culture, music and vibes. If you want to club all night long, take your hard drugs, sex things up with simple and easy girls alike yourself, then go! That’s all to be said about Cancun.

We bussed down to Tumul, a city on the way towards Belize. Since it was the thirty first of December we stopped here to celebrate New years eve. We found a nice hostel and got ourselves a private room since it was real cheap. I get ready for the night; take a shower, try to make a nice outfit out of my travelwear and do my hair. When I’m about to put my contacts into my eyes, the most beautiful girls comes standing beside me to do her hair. She caught me by surprise, I was full of her and without thinking I flush away my contacts in the sink. Sh*t! My only pair of contacts, gone for ever. In the chaos the girl already left and I never saw her again. The Swedish and I, we went down to join the other backpackers and hostelers for a hamburger diner. Happy new year, hah. At the beach of Tumul people enter this beach club; expensive, crappy pop music like that song ‘tonights gonna be a good night’, and it say’s a 100% gringo all over. Not for us, we walk around over the beach, wasted peeps all over, getting crazy. It’s a beautiful night. Full moon, white beach, warm breeze, it’s all good. We find a neat bar on the beach with mellow-yellow lounge couches and this is where we kick back. We meet some girls and have fun with them, I dance a little salsa and then it’s time to count down to zero. Yeah! Happy New Year guys, ladies, everybody! No fireworks around and everybody is sky high so it’s not too much of a happening, we just continue kickin back. Later that night we meet a crazy dude, with crazy stories and a crazy vibe around him. We drive to town with him and drink beers, when we go to the hostel he’s kicked out cause ‘he’s no good’ as they say. With a ginger headed english guy called Harry, speaking with the funniest english accent ever, we talk about Aussie pies, how mostly wonderful those pies are. What a crazy night this ended up to be. When the sun rises it’s time to go look for my bed.

Creole sayings

When I wake up I feel just like how a hooker must feel after a hard nights work, absolutely torn down. The entire day we zone around, not knowing what’s up. I decided to shave my two-and-a-half month beard with a razor. That was a bad idea. After shaving one-third of it, the razor got dull and I had to finish, my face felt just as what you’d expect. In the late afternoon we decided to go to the beach to check out the maya ruins they’ve got. When we arrived they where closing up and the Mexican tour guy doesn’t want us to enter. At the exit you can still look trough the gate and take some nice pictures but the guy blocks our view and gets angry and nasty at us. Starts cursing in Spanish and has the most evil look in his eyes. Two girls also try to make some pictures this way and he just pushes them away with a hard hand. An asshole he is but I can’t blame him. He probably has to deal with tourist tourists every day. Sad how the people change when they’re around tourism for too long. We talk with the girls for a while and then we part ways. A shame cause one looked just like an angel, fallen from the sky.
It’s a long walk back, no cabs around. We pass a Mexican family walking towards the ruins and I tell them they’re closed. We continue walking and then it starts raining! Goddamned. The Mexican family passes us again, this time in their car and they stop for us. If we need a ride, hell’s yeah! The three of us share the backseat with their son and it doesn’t fit. Calle sits on Martins lap, real uncomfortable but it beats walking in the rain. The ride doesn’t take long since a cop stops the car and tells us we can’t ride around like this. Seriously man, damn these touristy places! Any other place the cops wouldn’t give a rats ass. Anyway, we thank the family and continue walking. In the downtown we kick back a little more before going to bed.

That next morning we take a bus down south, to a place called ‘Nomansland’. After a long bus ride we arrive there, the border between Mexico and Belize. A swampy strip of land between the two countries, not owned by anybody. Here you find casino’s, big shopping centers with cheap clothes and other product, it’s a dirty place. We decide to have some lunch before entering Belize. We find a little restaurant where they play sweet Reggae and the people are Creole. They’re belizean and they speak english. They’re real sweet and serve us a good meal. Thing’s look promising.

A whole new world awaits us at the other side of the border.

We jump into her white Jeep, accompanied by her sister and Diego, a guy whom needs a ride and say our last goodbyes to El Rancho.
We drive off to a great lake, surrounded by mountains and here we meet some people from the ceremonies. We decide to crash there for the night and so do the others. They have tents and we are more than welcome to use one of theirs, sweet! We’re such smelly bastards, during the ceremonies there was no possibility to shower so this is absolutely necessary. We drive of to a camping ground and are permitted by the owner to wash all the filth of our bodies, at last fresh and clean!! Back at the lake we eat and drink some and I roll a joint. So tired and for just a second I decide to rest my eyes. In the middle of the night I wake up underneath the stars, beautiful but freezing cold! Sleep drunk i try to open Angelica’s tent and after two minutes I finally find that damn zipper. On the other side of that zipper the man with the hammer is awaiting me and instantly I crash again. At sunrise we awake and we’re naughty. She starts

Lago, close to Tepic

kissing me and gets butt naked in a blink of an eye, hallelujah goes trough my mind, such a fine body she has and a great kisser too. Outside people are awaking and walking around, we have to stop our activities for later.
They play drums at the shore of the lake and sing their spiritual, mayan songs. Angelica floats around in the water, it’s a beautiful and calm sight. Hundreds of birds come to see us, they might have thought “what the hell are those wicked humans doin’ over thea”. I witness it all from the hammock on the side, all so mellow.
Later that day we leave the lake behind us and drive of to the coast of Mexico. We unzip the windows from the Jeep and just push that ride till it’s edge. We laugh, we sing, life is goooooood! At nightfall we arrive in San Fransisco and park the car close to the beach. Dinner first, we are absolutely starvin’ and along the way we bought ourselves some tostadas, avocados, peppers and fish. At the beach we start preparing dinner until all of a sudden the cops show up. “Mota, mota, donde es la mota”!! What the hell? We don’t have any weed on us man (luckily I finished mine the night before)! It’s all bullshit they’re just here to fuck with us. Diego has his swiss knife on the table, as do I, but their only interested in him. When they ask him where he’s from and he replies “Madre Tierra” (mother earth). Wrong answer, they did not like it one bit. The police came, disturbed a calm and friendly vibe and then took Diego to the police station. The girls follow the police car while I hang at the beach, watching over the food. I meditate, appreciating the waves breaking on the shore. When the girls return there is no Diego, he sleeps in the cell tonight.
We eat our meal and enjoy anyway. Then we walk up to the beach and find more people from the ceremonies, camping out on the beach and they have a little fire going. We join them and drink tequila and beer, we smoke mota and enjoy the life. Angelica and I, we call it a day and find a nice spot on the beach to crash for the night. When the sun wakes us in the morning it is time to continue what we had started the previous day (not before I run like the wind, back to the car, to get some protection). Back underneath the sheets we are one, a sweet and beautiful moment during an amazing sunrise on the west-coast of Mexico. Which is disturbed by a guy that is walking his dog, haha, what the hell! We don’t care, we are alive and living!    -Oh all the things I would be missing out on if I was living my routine back home-    We pack our stuff and drive of to the police station to pick up Diego. He’d had an awful night in the joint and decided that very moment never to go back to jail, not if it’s up to him. He also had a 500 peso fine to pay and never saw his swiss knife again.

Angelica and I, we like San Fransisco and decide to keep it as a home-base for a couple of days. We rent a nice apartment for the cheap and spend hours in bed and on the beach. Diego left the next morning. Angelica is taking a swim while I drink my beer on the beach. People are grouping up, what’s going on? I go to check it out and can’t believe what I witness. About a hundred sea turtles, baby ones, are set out on the beach. Ready for their great adventure and the waves to take them to the unknown. Sh*t, no cameras on me during this most incredible sight! Should I, or should I not… I decide I really should and start running to the apartment. I run like crazy and wait for people to shout “run Forest, run”! They never did so. Back at the beach, out of breath, only a few people are still on the beach. Five more baby turtles left, perfect. I’m allowed to touch them and lift them up and place them a few meters closer to the shore. These little turtles are probably way too mellow to survive, unlike their brothers and sisters they are slow and don’t have a clue of what to do. Finally the last wave swallows the last few left and that is that. An incredible adventure ahead, they have. As do I

The sweet ride

The following day’s we drive down the coast (accompanied by Gilgamesh, an other guy from the ceremonies who needs a ride) and we visit places alike Sayarita (most beautiful beach) and Porto Vallarta (an awful gringo paradise). This is where I even get frightened when we walk over the beach and end up in a area where there is only fags, in tight spido’s, eyeballing me. Never felt that strange feeling before, like they where going to jump me or somethin’. Nothing happened but yet I can’t help feeling a little abused. We decide not to stay in Porto Vallarta but to drive towards Guadalajara. We never make it because it’s already way too late but we find a nice motel with big beds and a hot comfortable shower. I let the manager bring a bucket of beers on ice (always Pacifico) and we watch a movie, chillin on the bed. It’s an open room with nothing but a wall in between our bed and the beds of her sister and Gilgamesh. Angelica can’t help herself, cute, beautiful, naughty sugarlips, she is. We are one. We’re happy with each other, enjoying every moment with the knowledge that it’s just for now, this brief moment in life we spent together.
The next day we arrive in Guadalajara after a wonderful ride trough the mountains, once again singing and smiling. At night we drop Gilgamesh at his house, her sister at her parents house and we go looking for a place to sleep. It’s around midnight and the city streets are empty. Or are they! We pass a street where there are about 50 Mariachis, all waiting for a lost soul to play music for. They come running up to the car, dressed all fancy, craving to sing us a song. We pass trough and they almost jump the car, that envious they are. What a mad sight that was. We find a motel in the city and this is the weirdest place ever. It’s so slick, all shiny and smooth stone. Hideous blue lights light up the room. A woman knocks on the door, she wants the money. I put the cash in a carrousel in the wall and turn it around, no contact with the outside world. We just talk from one wall to the other side. This is where Tony Montana and other drug kings would stay for the night, where they would have their whore, coke and booze parties. On the television I try to find a nice movie but it’s all porno and no regular porno, no it’s fucking and punching. I turn it of, I’m so happy anyway. Angelica and I, we’re together and that’s all that counts. A sweet night it turned out to be.

Stunning views, all around

Our last day together. She shows me all around the city center and the beautiful art-zone which is beautiful and has amazing artists. For breakfast we eat some kind of meat-bun, soaking in some sauce. It’s really good and we flush it with beer. I buy my ticket to Cancun for the next morning. In the afternoon we leave Guadalajara behind us and drive of to a grand lake, just outside of town. A very mellow place to be, can’t remember the name. We buy a bag of beers and just chill on the shore, out of sight of everybody and enjoy the music which is played in a bar close by. We talk and talk and enjoy the moment, what a beautiful moments we shared. Such a profound connection was born during the ceremonies and now we where at the end of our shared journey. We look at the stars and get quiet.

We drive back to Guadalajara and find a cheap motel close to the airport. We park the car inside and walk down the stairs to our room for the night. What the hell!! There is this giant jacuzzi in the center of the living room, absurd! You know what’s up. We fill up the jacuzzi and Angelica adds a half a litter of soap to it! I open the bottle of rum and poor us some sweet rum/7-ups. Halleluja, karma is our side! When the jacuzzi is ready there is about half a meter of foam on top of it, best time ever! We just bubble away and get very, very relaxed. Naughty to, yes of course. After two hours of bubble fun we get out and need to shower because we’re all foamy and slick.
I remember I still have some weed left and I can’t bring that along on the plane so I roll a fat one. Sweet lord, it’s a great joint. Angelica never smoked weed in her life but is willing to try. The first puffs she does not inhale but I tell her how and there you go, she’s no longer a weed-virgin. We smoke that joint but it’s too much for her. She gets so incredibly stoned, the bad kind, where you get all paranoid and shit. I can’t help to laugh about it, since I’m a good high and all. She’s really confused and it’s sad. I calm her down and we jump in bed. A shame our last night ended this way, but ey, it’s all been great anyway.

The next morning I took the plane from Guadalajara to Cancun which is on the Yucatan peninsula. I wanted to see that area and also the countries Belize and Guatemala so there I went.

Back on the road, alone as always. Just the way I like it.

When we arrive at the big city which is close to the village we try to get a cab there but it seems impossible. Non of the taxi drivers have ever heard of the village and they ask other taxi drivers. Finally one knows the village we speak of and he gives directions to our taxi driver. Up into the mountains we go. The driver stops two times during the trip to ask directions and then finally, at nightfall, we arrive in the village. At the local supermarket we ask for Profe. Sergio and she calls for a guy passing by on the street, he will guide us there. When the taxi driver takes off we’re the only strangers in the village and we have to follow this guy we never saw before into the night. He walks ahead of us with his flashlight into the forest, on unpaved roads and it’s pitch black. After a dark, ten minute walk we can hear sounds on the background. We hear drums and other instruments, vaguely. The music gets louder and louder and we see a fire. There are lots of people around the fire; singing, dancing, chilling..
After signing in and paying a small amount for the food for the upcoming four days we are told to find ourselves a camping spot. We climb into the mountains and Vicente sets up camp, I don’t have a tent so I sleep outside tonight, underneath the stars. We walk back down and see to our surprise that we are not the only ‘white-faces’ on ‘El Rancho’ (the name of this off-the-grid property). We drink tea and I sit around the fire, observing the people, starting to feel comfortable and at peace. They sure know how to make music. The first night is an early one for me since I’ve been traveling all day to get here.

campsite

The next day I get a clear view of the property, it’s hills, forest, it’s quite a big area. They blow the shell (a giant shell which produces a lord-of-the-rings alike sound) and this means it’s sweat lodge time! In shorts we crawl into the low, wide tent and sit down for what is about to happen. They slide big, red, glowing rocks into the tent and shout “Medicina!” 15 of those rocks follow and then the tent is closed. The guide speaks to us with his calm and peaceful voice and I don’t understand a word because everything is in spanish, but I get the vibe still. Then he starts spilling the water, and more, and more until I can only see my own hands trough the steam and my throat hurts, it’s almost impossible for me to breath. They start singing, loud, and making music, loud. Everybody sings, I too, and we sweat, man we sweat like piggies. The guide shouts and the tent is opened, only for another fresh hot load of red, glowing rocks. Once again it is repeated and when we finally exit the tent I feel great. Only now I see that there where about 40 people in that small tent and we hug each other. I never saw them before but we don’t hug like strangers, not like friends, no. We hug each other like we are brothers and sisters. And we are, we are each others brothers and sisters, all born and raised on the planet we call mother earth.

Later that day I am asked to help the other young, strong guys (mostly native mayans) to get wood. We jump on the back of a big lorry and about 10 of us stand up on the back and we set out for the freeway. Crazy man, fucking insane, this is Mexico! The driver drives insanely fast over the highway and we are all standing on the back of the truck enjoying the cool breeze on our skin. Then he brakes and parks the lorry ON the highway and we jump off, one of us has a chainsaw. we walk into the woods and they start cutting dead trees down into pieces. It took us 3 non stop hours to fill that lorry to the top and when we are finished I’m wrecked, scratched, sweating and bleeding. I wanted to, I had to and even though we could not speak to each other, now I could feel I was more accepted. That night we sit around the ‘happy fire’ and we sing and make music, it’s so great to be a part of the beautiful music.
That night I sleep like a baby while Vicente, my dear american friend, is eating his Peyote in the tipi and becomes his soul, leaving his body behind on mother earth and going on his 9 hour long journey.

When I see Vicente that next morning he still did not sleep and he’s just being busy with being. He’s being all the day, without any sleep and occasionally I see him wandering around, the trip had been a beautiful experience for him and made everything in life so much clearer. That night I attend the ceremony of the music and the flowers. Angelica joins me, I met her earlier quite briefly but we kept running into each other and we liked each others vibes. She’s a 29 year old, Mexican beauty with a light golden skin and brown eyes that take your breath away. Together we join and experience the ceremony. We all sing, we all respect, we all appreciate, we all are there at that moment. The moment lasts from 9pm in the evening until 6am in the morning around a big fire while sjamans make beautiful pieces of art with flower leafs. When the sun rises that morning, we are allowed to rest our eyes for 1,5 hour, only to start the dancing not much later. I’m there of course, I am one of the family and we’re all in this together, let’s dance like we never danced before! The sjamans look beautiful this morning; they are wearing their finest clothes, instruments and most glorious feathers, feathers everywhere. We walk down from the mountain to the center and we dance, people whom did not attend the ceremony enjoy watching us and are more than welcome to join our dance powerful dance of love, we’re all high on spiritual energy. The music is so beautiful. The whole day I’m up and high in the sky, without any drugs, that’s right. That night, once again, I sleep like a baby while Vicente once again separates his soul from his body, doing Peyote in the tipi.

People are breaking up their camps, today we say goodbye to our family. Goodbye to the profound relationships that where born on El Rancho. I stick around all day, together with Angelica, her sister and a few others. A sjaman woman from the east of Mexico comes to me and Angelica is there to translate. She has seen my spirit, my energy field and she finds me special. She made an amulet for me specially and it’s pure. It’s for protection on my long journey trough life. We connected and the energy between us is extremely powerful, we hug and love.
A mayan guy comes over to me, he has a gift. He was very closed up during the last couple of days and this was so unexpected to me, I thought he did not like the fact that gringo’s, like me, join in their ancient culture and ceremonies. This was correct but he had seen me, during the ceremony of the flowers and the music and had seen I was true with my being. He gave me a piece of spiritual wood from Chili. It’s scent is wonderful and reminds me of the ceremonies.

I am a child of the universe, you are a child of the universe. We are one and the same, in other bodies.
Our father is the sun, our mother is the earth.
We are here to be, like me. Unfortunately so many can’t see, how life could be.

The canyon is absolutely beautiful and you feel humble going trough. When we are high up in the mountains we arrive in Creel. A small village where I and my new Mexican amigos decide to stay for the day and night. They choose the hotel, I decide to stay in the village it’s hostel. The day is still early so we decide to look around.We pass by a cave and it looks like someone is making a fire. We park the car to go check it out and what we find is rather amazing. It´s a family of 10, living in the cave. When we enter the cave I notice a young girl, about 2 years young, walking around with the happiest and most truthful smile on her face. They have a stove and 2 beds and that is about it. They do have a television, well.. The casing of a television, placed in a tree. We leave, deeply touched by their hospitality, the cave behind us and continue to the waterfall.

The waterfall

After a long and bumpy ride we finally arrive high up in the mountains and there is no one but us and some native inhabitants around. The kids have nothing but yet have fun chasing each other and playing with some plastic caps, some sticks and rocks. The waterfall is awesome and I realize that I’ve seen it before.. I remember seeing this one episode of Extreme Survival with Bear Grylls, in the Copper Canyon, where he climbs down a big tree to get down the waterfall. In that episode they don’t tell you that next to the waterfall there are steps to go down. Pretty funny.

The next day our train ride continues. I decide to go to the very end of the trail, to Los Mochis, close to the coast. My Mexican friends get of the train a few stops earlier, we hug goodbye and hope to see each other again, someday.

I arrive around 9 at night, after the most amazing trainride. I say goodbye to the train and take a ecotaxi to a cheap hotel I found on internet. The next day I wander trough the streets of Los Mochis, only to find out that there is not much to do. There are a lot of beautifull senioritas around this city, I do notice that. I also notice that people look at me a lot, like everybody, probably because I’m about the only Gringo in the city.

The next day I leave for Isla de la Pierda, an Island in front of the coast of Mazatlan. After six hours by bus I arrive at the port of Mazatlan. Here I take a little boat across to the Island, to find out that the awesome hostel I found on the internet doesn’t exist anymore. I walk down it´s quiet beach and I find a camping ground, luckely they have a tent for me to use. The camping ground is right at the beach and costs only 3,5 euro per day. I tell myself “Yeah, I can hang around here for 2 or 3 days”. I’ve been saying that for the past two weeks now

Isla de la Pierda

Life on the Island is just so mellow. Mostly Mexicans live on the Island, there are some retired Canadians and Americans but they are seen as locals as well. Tourism is here but on a small scale so the Mexican vibe can still exist and persist.I fell in love with the Island and feel like a local myself. People around here know me by name, the sun is always shining, I´m basically living at the beach, Mexican music and food at all times and the parties…. The other night I was dancing all night long with the most beautiful Mexican seniorita.

Life is good on the Island but I shall continue my road soon. The next destination to hang for a while is Key Caulker, in front of the coast of Belize.

Hasta luego!

Click here for the pictures

Art Museum

I take a bus from Los Angeles, CA into Phoenix, Arizona. A big city, in the middle of the desert, nothing but sand and dust. The downtown is not really a down town, not to many people around, no city vibe at all. The hostel I end up at is cool; pretty alternative and has a nice vibe going. Mary, the hostes, shows me around Phoenix and it appears that there are a lot of alternative art galleries, bike shops and coffee places. You don’t notice them at first because they’re in the houses.I have the best coffee at the most amazing coffee house I’ve ever been. ´Conspire` its called, from the people – for the people. Really mellow place to hang out, talk with nice people and enjoy strong coffee. It is here where I meet two young travellers; Camper, 21 and been going for 3 years & Ethan, 20 and been going for 3 weeks. They don’t have any money and so sleep outside during the nights and beg on the streets during the days. I hung with them for an entire day and it’s been awesome. Good guy’s, great state of mind and heart but personally I couldn’t travel around like that.

Next stop was El Paso, Texas. In my opinion not much more than just a border town. Yet another city as dry as can be, but it also had an uncomfortable vibe around it. See, across the border you find Juarez, Mexico and there are a lot of drug related killings every day. You could feel it; people where scared, some approached me in a aggressive way, all in all not a nice place to hang around. Back in the old days, before Las Vegas became well known, it used to be gamblers paradise with the fancy cars, rich actors, etc. No more glitter, no more glamour.

Sunset dunes

Myself and two other travellers from Japan, we rented a car and drove to White Sands in New Mexico, that was very beautiful. In the middle of this dirty, dusty, sandy, dry and hot desert you find great white dunes. As white as snow and as cold as ice. As soft as silk too, felt really nice to walk around bare foot. I just sat down in the sand and watched the sun go down.

Next day I took a bus to Chihuahua, Mexico! It was a long drive and lucky me; I was sitting next to the only person in the bus who spoke English! Her name was Carmen (travelling to Chihuahua with her kids to visit family) and she gave me a lot of tips and hints about Mexico, even thought me some emergency Spanish. A wonderful personality too.

When our ways departed in Chihuahua it really felt like saying goodbye to a dear friend. I went to the only hostel in town, only to find out that they where closed until March 2010… I got to the hotel next to it and settled in for 20 euro a night. Chihuahua was yet another city centred in the midle of the desert. I arrived late and left early so can’t really have an opinion about the place but it felt just like El Paso to me.
I didn’t feel too happy, just needed to get out of the desert; ready for some mellow vibes, green nature and beaches.  I found out about the Copper Canyon express, a train that goes from Chihuahua all the way west to Los Mochis on the west coast. It’s supposed to be something really special so I decide to leave the next morning. When I had packed my backpack, ready to leave, the hotels receptionist gave me a letter. It was a letter from Carmen, she had come to the hotel the night before. She wanted me to stay with her family and was wondering if I was doing ok. So sweet, an amazing woman and I’d like to meet her family but no, I was about to take the train.

Click here for the pictures.