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?

Guanajuato

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. 

Dulces Mexicanos

Whilst in Melchor I met up with one of my former students, Erick, who was kind enough to introduce me to a range of different sweets/candies you can find here in Mexico:

Butterfly Effect

On leaving Nick at the airport I headed out to a small town on the fringes of Mexico City so that I could reunite with some old friends. In this entry to my journal I want to explain a little bit about the circumstances of how I first came to meet these people and what it was like coming back 5 years on.

Table 10

When I first asked Nick whether he would like to join me for my first month in Mexico I never in a million years thought he would actually come. Even after buying his tickets I was still doubtful and in fact it wasn't until I saw him step off the train in London that those doubts began to fade.

I first met Nick not long after moving to Barnstaple in North Devon around two and a half years ago. Unlike other friends I made in North Devon, the friendship I kindled with Nick centred exclusively around drinking and usually at the same table in the Bull & Bear which ideally for us both was sited slap bang between our two homes. 

So when Nick said he was actually interested in coming along, I admit I had my reservations. Why? Well I don't think we had ever spent more than 12 hours together and we certainly had never done anything in that time but drink.

How then would we cope spending a full 28 days and 28 nights together? I mean, we couldn't just drink, could we? But seriously, I was curious. How would our friendship cope? It would obviously change, but how? Would it get better? Or worse? And at the end of the 28 days when it came to saying goodbye would I be excited to see the back of him or would I miss the thought of him not being there?

CDMX

For the first 11 years of my life I lived in a little hamlet which had less than 30 houses. It had a small church, a village hall and a postbox. That was it.

In place of the amenities which nearby town-folk may have enjoyed, I had rolling green fields in which to run, streams and rivers in which to play and miles upon miles of country roads on which to cycle. As a young child not yet in the age of mobile phones or the Internet, it was the perfect way to spend growing up.

The only downside to this quaint way of life was it fostering a fear of places which were bigger and scarier... which at the time was pretty much anywhere and everywhere that wasn't home.

I remember well as a kid visiting my cousins in the nearby 'big' city and always being overwhelmed. It was weird being in a terraced house with no garden and on a street which had more residents than twice the population of my home-hamlet. There was always noise, even at night, and it was never properly dark. Whilst I always had fun with my cousins, the city was not somewhere I enjoyed being and not somewhere I'd ever imagine being attracted to.

El Torre Latino America

Fast forward 18 years and I'm on the bus with Nick heading towards Mexico City, the 5th largest city in the World. Having lived on its outskirts for 9 months during my first extended trip, I've visited the city now on countless occasions and probably been there more times than I have to London back at home. Despite how often I've been here, I am every time I arrive completely taken a back at just how enormous this place actually is.

In the greater Mexico City area there resides 21.2 million people. That's more than 100,000 times the size of the place I grew up, nearly two and a half times the population of London and almost as many people as live in all of Australia. It is staggeringly huge.

Nick and I would come to spend 8 nights here in this metropolis and given these were his final days on the trip we were both keen to make good use of the time we had. I'll recount that time we had now.

EL Cañon del Sumidero

Despite the direct route being only 140 miles, the bus we took from Palenque to San Cristobal took us on an impressive route 300 miles and 9 hours long.

Arriving late in the afternoon, the first thing we noticed was the temperature. A far cry from the heat and the humidity of the Yucatan, the air here was cool, dry and refreshing and for the first time since arriving in Mexico we were able to check-in at a hostel not soaked in sweat, but dare I say, looking almost presentable.

Travel Guilt

The first, last and only bus each day to be heading in our direction was in the early hours of the morning, not long after midnight. Whilst the timing was far from perfect, it was at least refreshing not to have to think too much about which bus to catch; for when there is but just the one, the itinerary sort of plans itself.

The longest journey so far, the trip to Palenque was just shy of 8 hours

To my pleasant surprise I managed to sleep for a good 6 hours and well enough that when we pulled into town I felt - for the shortest of whiles - almost refreshed.

We were in Palenque for less than 24 hours and the reason for our visit was simple. On the outskirts of the modern day town lies its Mayan predecessor, a 2,000 year old city which boasts what are perhaps some of the most impressive ruins in Central America. And so after checking in, dumping our bags and fuelling up on coffee, we set off out into the midday Sun and on the road up to the ruins on what I thought was a 4km trip, or maybe an hour's slow walk.

The Itch

For 12 days I've been surrounded by every shade of blue there is. The seas, oceans, skies and lakes, their colours ever-changing with the passing Sun above. It has been, in a word, paradise.

Max

The wall of heat and humidity which greets you when you leave the airport is overwhelming. Despite being the 4th time I've flown into Mexico, it doesn't seem to get any easier or any less surprising and each time - including this time - I ask myself... why of all the places in the World do I opt for somewhere where my body is so incapable at functioning.

Benito Juarez

October 2012
Upon entering Mexico City’s main international airport I was, if I'm honest, just a little bit scared… In fact, what am I saying… I wasn't just a little bit scared… I was bordering the horribly paranoid and utterly petrified.

This though was not always the case, for in fact, from back home in England my thoughts of Mexico were far too romantic for me to be scared. Yes, Mexico for me conjured up romantic images of walking along white sandy beaches, drinking tequila and wearing overly sized sombreros. But my visions didn't just stop there for there was also the warm sunny weather, the history and the culture, the music, the language and of course there was also the food too!

It was perfect. Or at least it was going to be until I arrived in North America....

Stage 2: The Plan

In lands now truly foreign to his own, Ben sets out his Plan of Action for Mexico and Central America

The second stage of my journey, “Mexico and Central America” will I anticipate last some 18 months.

Approaching the end of my savings, work will at some point become a priority and my intention here is to find somewhere to settle and put to good use the qualification I earned in teaching English as a foreign language back in the UK...

A New World: Part 2

Direct from his flight heading South, Ben recounts the nerves and excitement of beginning a brand new stage in Mexico & Central America

As dawn broke, it did so ushering in a new era that would without doubt change my life forever and with little to no idea of what to expect, the opportunities ahead of me felt as endless as they were terrifying.

That said, it was, whatever the case, to be a day I'd never forget...

A New Chapter

Ben announces the return of his online and unedited travel journal - The Ginger Revolution

After now many false starts, I promise that I really mean it this time - I'm back... and I'm back for good.

Before we begin

After six months of silence, the online travel journal of Ben Collins finally returns

With dusk taking hold, the little cloud in the sky transcends in to an electric array of reds and oranges that bathes the homes and streets outside my window in a warming, almost magical glow.

And you know, it really doesn't matter how many times I watch this sunset - it never fails to impress because during these few tranquil minutes each day it serves to provide a little reminder of just how incredible this journey continues to be...