Travails of the Wide Eyed Wanderer

I was threatened with the police today for my refusal to pay the equivalent of about 12p.

Despite being on a budget I am not so stingy as to withhold 12p, but the scam demanding the money was so thinly veiled that I felt compelled to challenge it. It was not the first time I have been scammed and as always it is the knowledge that someone is attempting to exploit you that is far more infuriating than the actual loss of the money.

I was eating some traditional food (called vigoron - crackling, potatoes and coleslaw) from the area I now reside (Granada) with a local and having finished the local paid 25 cordobas (about 70p). Upon finishing my meal, I was informed the price was 30 cordobas - an additional, mandatory 20% tourist tax had been added.

On my refusal to pay the excess, the 2 women who had served me proceeded to do a good cop, bad cop routine with 1 sympathetic to my plight and almost admitting they were trying to con me, whilst the other became hysterical and threatened to call the police. I wasn't keen on their involvement and in the end I gave in and paid the extra 12p not for fear of 'la policia', but because I knew that as I did not have the exact change to give 25 cordobas, the only way I would receive the correct amount was by taking the 12p from the woman's lifeless hands and even though I did not like her much by this point I still valued her life as worth more than 12p. If she had tried to scam me for 20p though she might not have been so lucky...

Whilst talking about dodgy money transactions, I need to vent some steam about my growing dislike of border crossings, and in particular the immigration officials. There is obviously an official figure (usually about 1 pound) that everyone entering the new country must pay and then the officials appear to create an extra cost that must also be paid, the exact nature of which depends upon how much money they want in their back pocket at the end of the day. Some travellers claim that these extra costs can be negotiated but I have yet to see anyone achieve this.

Anyway, on other news, the two days immediately after Christmas were spent travelling on local buses, getting up at 5am and feeling the effects of cramp for hours on end. The lack of space in the buses was the result of seats for one being filled not by one person but by one family - usually a mother with several children - and on one occassion a squawking bird who, by the end of the coach ride, was fortunate to still have its head attached to its body.

The long journey was worth it though as I am now in Granada, Nicaragua - a pretty colonial town similar to Antigua in Guatemala which I visited at the start of my trip just less than a month ago.

Happily, since my last post the weather has improved and I have become a certified scuba diver!

Learning to dive was not as easy as I had first thought, something I contemplated as I grappled with 'neutral buoyancy' (staying at one depth). Regardless of how hard I tried I always found myself either shooting up to the surface of descending rapidly to the depths below. This problem was compounded by my lack of body fat which not only meant I sank easily, but also that I quickly became cold.

Nevertheless, despite these problems I enjoyed swimming with, amongst others, a large barracuda, moray eel and a sand ray. In the evening there was the dive company's weekly barbeque with the snorkel tests (where alcohol is poured into the snorkel until the wearer can drink no more) being almost as comical as the extremely masculine waitress who served my fellow divers and I the following night.

The next day, having finished the scuba diving I returned to the sea by kayak. With the sun overhead it was fantastic to enjoy such solitude after the relative chaos of the cramped diving boats. I saw numerous flying fish around me and one huge tuna leap out the water before resting at my own private beach I found along the coast.

Nevertheless, there were problems to be overcome kayaking too, from the frequent cramping of my left leg to the kayak having a large hole in the nose, a fault that perhaps explains why it was free to use! That night I marked my 3 week anniversary of my trip by finally treating myself to a meal (nachos with cheese, chicken and vegetables) that actually filled me up!

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas. My Christmas Eve was certainly one to remember... a kind Russian offered to cook, and provide drinks, for twenty other travellers from ten different countries at a small cost. I am spending today, Christmas Day, recovering in the sun!

Although I am now in Honduras, my time in Guatemala was to have a final twist - food poisening.

I am blaming the fried chicken I ate in Chichi. Subsequently, I have been sick ten times, most notably from the first floor window of an internet cafe, which caused a fair degree of comotion on the street outside. After being sick the first time I considered the worst to be over and promptly bought my 4 am bus ticket to Honduras the following morning. However, far from marking the start of my recovery, I soon detiorated further. Nevertheless, I managed the trip across the border intact and arrived near the impressive Mayan ruins of Copan.

The following morning I set off from Copan on the bus for the coastal town of La Ceiba on the Carribean coast. Despite a ticket fiasco, the journey was in relative comfort, except for the last leg where I had to endure a large, perspiring hobo practically sitting on my lap.

I arrived late into La Ceiba, but struck up with two Germans and after finding a room we sought out the only place open on Sunday night...Pizza Hut - my first proper meal for 3 days!

The problem is that La Ceiba, like Utila (an island off the Honduran coast where I am now) seems to have a rainy season during the rest of the region's dry season. Indeed the boat trip from La Ceiba to Utila became an experience itself, with the boat resembling a see saw as it was carelessly thrown around by the sea. Numerous times huge waves hit the flimsy plastic windows and twice the waves breached the broken plastic door, drenching a signicant number of us passengers. It was a minor miracle that I did not continue my trend of the last few days and be sick during the ninety minute journey. Anyway, I am now settled in Utila where it has rained almost non stopand the water in the streets is frequently ankle deep.

Consequently, my dream of spending Christmas sunbathing and learning to scuba dive appears to be restricted to the latter. Lets hope the weather improves!

'Your toes are the antennae to the spirtual world', claimed my yoga teacher. It was news to me!

But then so was a lot of things. For a start I had not anticipated that it would be a 2 hour long yoga session, nor that the yoga would have such spiritual undertones - as illustrated by the 'moon and sun salute'. Try as I might to be open minded about the yoga practices and the beliefs behind them, my lack of flexibility, coupled with the thought of what everyone at home would think of me if they could see me now, left me feeling sceptical. I enjoyed the warm down session far more though - I promptly fell to sleep!

As you will probably have guessed from my yoga experience, San Marcos is a tranquil, spirtual place. Indeed, the only noises breaking through the constant buzzing of crickets is Lake Atitlan lapping the shore and the more alarming screams coming from the 'monkey chant' classes that are claimed to help wellbeing.

Following the yoga I spent my days in San Marcos on a rocky outcrop by the water that I had almost exclusively to myself to swim and sunbathe.

The only problem with San Marcos is the vast number of wild dogs that roam the narrow pathways. The majority ignore you, but some have to be treated like corrupt guards in order to get past them. Consequently I have had to throw some food in the opposite direction, run away and hope the dog doesn't return to give me rabies. Apart from this, the town has a wonderful 'Robinson Crusoe' feel to it!

I have now left San Marcos for the relatively cosmopolitan Panajachel which acts as a transportation hub to the surrounding area. Today I visited the bustling market town of Chichicastenango. It covers a huge area selling a massive variety of goods. The only problem is that I keep banging my head on the poles that hold the market canopy together!

Early on Saturday morning I plan to travel to Honduras. Adios Guatemala!

I have to admit I am a bit of an oddity in Guatemala.

As very few Guatemalans are remotely near 6ft I am on the way to becoming what all travellers yearn to be - a valued part of the community. Despite most of the native population struggling to reach the upper shelves of supermarkets, shops continue to stack their trade high and as a result I have become an unofficial shop assistant, reaching the items others cannot, much to their amusement.

My crash course in spanish ended on Friday and after watching the 'Quema del Diablo' (The Burning of the Devil) festival from the roof of a fire engine and visiting the frenetic market, I followed the advice of other tourists and headed for the active Volcan Pacaya (pictured in my previous post). I'm glad I did as it proved to be the highlight of the trip thus far.

As I walked over the solidified lava, irregular blasts of hot air hinted at what lay below, with further clues provided by the points where the surace lava had weakened, creating holes directly into the molten lava below. In these holes we toasted bread and cooked marshmellows.

Nevertheless none of this could prepare me for sight of flowing lava. I wanted to have a picture of me (looking my best...) to prove I wasn't making it up!

The beauty of this was heightened by the fading light which provided a beautiful backdrop of the surrounding volcanoes.

The return journey (made in the dark) went without incident except for when the group managed to literally bump into a herd of snorting bulls - particularly disconcerting after we were already on edge having read numerous reports of bandits existing in the area.

The following morning I walked to the 'Cerro de la Cruz' for a magnificent view of Antigua.

After bidding farewell to the family I had stayed with for the past week I travelled to San Pedro de La Leguna on the far side of Lake Atitlan. It is a gorgeous area and San Pedro is an interesting town with a curious mix of hippies who have settled and a few visiting tourists. Later today I will visit the very different San Marcos - a town with a holistic, rather than bohemian reputation.