My Narrative-Free Week

For the first time on this adventure, what happened next did so without any tangible narrative and so consequently this journal entry takes a slightly different form to that which we are used to. Instead, I present what happened next simply as a series of caption-laden photos.  

And it starts with the Sumpango Giant Kite festival.

The Night I Drank Saké

Just a civilised Tuesday in Antigua, Guatemala
Rumbling in the background, the nearby Acatenango volcano lay not far behind us and between the laughing and frolicking we bared witness to this most active volcano spewing dark plumes of ash high up into the air.

It was late afternoon and perched up high at a mountainside bar, Eduardo and I sat down just in time to watch as day became dusk. With the city below us and surrounded by mountains, there was no better place to sit and enjoy a nice glass of wine in the delightful company of somebody I now considered a dear friend.

The view was to die for. The wine was delicious. The company, a delight. The moment, perfect. How civilised I thought.

8 hours later and I had lost Eduardo who went to the toilet half an hour ago and never came back. Unable to either see or walk in a straight line, the Japanese sake I had been drinking had seemingly pushed me over the edge and unsure of what to do or where to go I felt it best to head back to the hostel. 

Confused and disorientated, I stood up, took three paces forward and then drunkenly fell to the ground with the mightiest of thuds.

Road to Rio

This trip began with a plan to travel right the way around the World over a couple or three years with the whole thing funded by keeping to a neat little budget and finding work along the way. 

But having now been away a few months my plans have changed quite considerably. Here’s how...


Este blog es en español & ingles. Yo primer escribí este blog en español entonces lo tranduje a ingles. Yo lo escribí en solo y solo usado el traductor pocas veces. Yo quería escribir este blog en español para demonstrar mi español y como ha mejorado.

This blog is in Spanish & English. I first wrote this blog in Spanish and then translated it to English. I wrote it alone and only used a translator a few times. I wanted to write this blog in Spanish to demonstrate mi Spanish and how it has improved. The English translation is written below the Spanish.


My final stop in Mexico was the city of Oaxaca (pronounced WA-HA-KA).

I was only there a few days and spent the majority of my time in the company of a couple of different guys - Luis and Andre - both of whom I met online and who between them kindly showed me around the city. Both tried to get me to eat the local delicacy - Chapulines (fried grasshoppers) - but in no way was that ever going to happen. That said, whilst grasshoppers weren't to my taste, the local tomales (tamales oaxaqueños) certainly were and unbelievably delicious... definitely something I am going to want to try to recreate when I return back home in the future.

To break up my 5 night stay I on the 3rd day took a day long tour, the highlight of which was a trip to Hierve el Agua where breathtaking vistas are overlooked by calcified waterfalls and stunning clifftop pools. 

My First Poop (on a Volcano)

On my way back towards Mexico City I stopped off in the city of Morelia so that I could take a day trip to one of the World's youngest volcanoes - Paracutín - and for the first time whilst travelling I decided to keep a bit of a video diary of what happened.

Contains some strong language #SorryNanny

Not a Droove

Sunset in Sayulita
Having spent a few good weeks away from the coast I had forgotten just how debilitating the heat-humidity combo can be and stepping off the bus in Puerto Vallarta it hit me like a ton of bricks. Before my foot even had chance to hit the floor, I was sweating. My light green cotton t-shirt quickly started developing dark patches and I fast became agitated.

With patience set to zero, I hailed an Uber from my phone and was soon picked up by some guy called Miguel who drove me the 20 or so minutes across town to my hostel. 

Given Puerto Vallarta's reputation as a bit of a party town I had expected the hostel to be bustling with young 20-something American's all down here to enjoy the summer Sun. But it was dead. Literally, I arrived and I was the only person there, so I checked-in, showered myself, changed into beachwear and headed to the nearest shop for 6 cans of the coldest beer I could find.

Ignorance is Bliss

Let's say you're thinking about heading to a city you've not been before... How much should you try to find out about said city before arriving? 

Should you maybe buy a guide book? Read up on the city's history and culture? Check out TripAdvisor? Read reviews on restaurants to eat at, places to go and things to do? Or... should you just turn up not knowing a thing and try to find out for yourself?


The first stop of my second leg was the picture-perfect colonial city of Guanajuato which over four days and five nights I will remember I think for its charming streets and my online meets.

The Three Musketeers

Inside the passenger lounge of a bus terminal on the North of Mexico City, something felt not quite right and in between trying to decipher the inaudible announcements blaring out over the loudspeaker, I tried to figure out what that something was. I wasn't hungry or thirsty, I certainly wasn't tired and I didn't need the toilet. So what was it? As I gazed around the room trying to identify whether or not anybody looked suspicious, it hit me. Everybody was with somebody. And I... I was on my own.

For the first time in 5 weeks I was alone. Like totally on my own. I had nobody beside me, nobody to talk to, nobody to annoy, nobody with whom to enjoy the experience or to share the burden. 

Nope. It was just me, myself and I... The three musketeers.