Leaving Panama and itīs spicy rum proved harder than we thought...
Bocas Del Toro was a backpackerīs paradise, we met a plethora of friendly travellers, spent days at the beach, and even got some snorkeling in. Itīs a hard life! In fact, I loved the place so much that I let Conor go ahead of me for a few days so I could squeeze in one more sun baking session!!
We met up again in La Fortuna, Costa Rica, a sleepy tourist town nestled right at the base of an active volcano. There wasnīt much to see in the township itself (except drunken American school kids), but the spectacular views of Mount Arenal more than made up for it!! We caught a cab around the side of the mountain, to watch sparks and chunks of glowing rocks bounce from the crater, and brilliant shimmering rivers of molten lava trickle down the black mountain (all at a slightly concerning speed). We later found out that the town is on Ļcode orangeĻ, and is very close to being evacuated! I never thought I would feel so calm next to such a powerful and potentially masochistic force of nature, but listening to the crater groan in the darkness, it sounded more like an old man snoring than an livid mountain about to throw a tantrum.
Realising that we had less than 3 weeks to see 4 more countries (oh my god!), we started crossing borders like a teacher grading Conorīs maths tests. Nicaragua was another surprisingly beautiful gem... In Granada we stayed in a hostel which had a piano and a rather eccentric old lady who owned it. I wasn't allowed to touch it without her direct permission... one Saturday night she was playing for everyone in the bar (old honkey tonk renditions of jazz tunes of yester-year), and she let this beginner guy get up and have a crack at playing. After his turn, I thought it was my chance -- I hopped up and played some Tori Amos (with quite a warm welcome from the audience, if I do say so myself)... But afterwards, the bar manager came over and swiftly told me that I wasn't allowed to continue playing. It was so funny! Apparently the old lady who owned the piano had gone home, which puts the piano off limits again. The bar manager who kicked me off got booed and yelled at by the audience! Ha ha. Justice is served, George style.
But the real fun began when we made it to El Salvador and joined forces with the Leyshons. That's right -- Sam and Jane Leyshon, brother and sister in party mahem!
Guatemala was a blur of technicolour markets, knucke-whitening "chicken bus" rides, and blatent party debauchery... The days we spent on the lake of Largo De Atilan were by far the most wonderful days of the entire trip so far. Our hostel was right on the shore of the lake, which twinkled a brilliant turquoise blue by day... There was a bar called Zoolas where you could go to get ANYTHING you wanted... literally! The waiter hands you a menu as you sit down amongst the cushions and all-too-groovy lighting, tells you the soup of the day, as well as the flavour of space cake that they have, and how much the magic mushrooms are. Fear and Loathing in San Pedro!
On our way up north we visited Tikal, but because we are so desperately running out of time by this time, we only had an hour to see the whole ruins. I also had food poisening and was throwing up the whole way (god damn that dodgy breakfast empanada!!). But despite all the vomit, it was an awe inspiring experience to see the ancient Mayan ruins rise up through the steamy jungle, with the shadows of howler monkeys shaking the tree branches above us. I vowed to return one day when I wasn't blowing chunks to properly experience these magnificent ruins.
And now, alas, Conor and I are waiting out our last three days in Central America on the island of Isla Mujeres... It wont be long before we're zooming across oceans in a jet plane, and then desperately searching for work in bleary London town.
But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our last few hours in the sun! Which reminds me -- it's happy hour all day at the bar beside the beach. Must dash!
Love George and Conor
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