When I "left" you last I had just arrived at my friend Bob's in Colombia, so taking things from where we left off...

Colombia

Various pictures of Colombia are portrayed by the media, usually derogatory involving violence and drugs, so it is with great pleasure that I can honestly report of finding a beautiful country with friendly people.

Cartegna

The intrepid duo of Bob and I headed for the Caribbean coast and the colonial city of Cartegna. This old walled city is still pretty much intact from this period and is one of the most beautiful examples in the Americas.

Tayrona

The Tayrona National Park occupies much of the north coast of Columbia, encompassing beautiful beaches, abandoned stone cities and the isolated 20,000 ft high pyramid shaped mountain of Santa Marta. This is where a site larger than Machu Piccu was recently discovered, but it now stupidly costs $200 to enter and hence receives few visitors.

We spent five lazy days in the small fishing village of Taganga where I admittedly partook in skinny dipping (thankfully no pictures). One day we hiked in the baking heat to another ancient stone city, simply called Pueblito, then descended along a five mile path (built on 40ft boulders!) to the white sand beaches of Arrecifes. We returned a few days later to...

Cartegna (again)

Our Latin counterparts are not renowned for their sense of urgency (neither am I, I hear you say) and it was now that I learnt the real meanings of some phrases ahora ('now', actually means later), ahorita ('right now', actually means fairly soon), ahoritita ('right, right now', still only means fairly soon) and ya ('already', the closest they have to now) - so when we learnt of a delay to our flight (a flight!, teach us to be flash) we weren't surprised. Forty nine (yep 49) hours later, we arrived back in Cali, at 6am on Bobs Birthday - Happy Birthday!!!

A few easy days later it was time to head for Panama and meet seasoned travelling partner Chris. Embracing the cyber-age with both arms, Chris and I had made our plans solely by email and now was to be the crucial test - would we meet up?

Panama

Arriving in Panama city before Chris, I had chance for a little reccy - hmm. The hotel I had picked turned out to be in what my taxi driver described as 'the ghetto' and he supposedly left me 'one block' from my hotel. A stifly 25 minutes, fast paced, midday strut through the wrong end of this 'ghetto' eventually brought me to the hotel and the kind offer of a dank box complete with Boer war issue camp bed. Thinking Chris would probably jump on the first plane back to England, I declined his generous offer and an hour later found a room at that well known bastion of Central American tradition - the Hotel Benidorm..

Enlisting a driver of a quality three and a half wheeled motor I returned to the airport and found Chris's flight was delayed. Going out to the viewpoint to behave like a six year old, I went to try and see him land (there was a bar there too). I returned half an hour later to find the driver talking to - Chris! Yep, although his flight still read delayed on the screen, the flight had actually arrived early (early, in Latin America?!) and he just happened to be trying to make conversation with the driver.

Since we knew little more about Panama than that it had a canal, we set off the next day for a look. Funnily enough it was just like the ones in Birmingham, only on a gigantic scale, with enormous tankers descending through the locks - quite impressive really.

One memorable night we ate the biggest plate of seafood of our lives in a once stylish, but now dilapidated restaurant. Later we met a nice drunk who kept saying "My name is Panama" before failing with a whole pack of matches to light a cigarette (oblivious to the fact that he was sat under a great big fan), a feat performed several times that night!

A day or so later we headed via the coast to the pleasant rainforest town of Boquete, for a few days walking (and pool playing). Next stop...

Bocas Del Toro - Bastimentos

Twice Chris and I decided to ditch the idea of coming to the Bocas region as we had heard tales of malaria, bad water and rain. The people on the Pacific side (where it had rained every day) had told us that it rains a lot on the Atlantic side. But then, the Atlantic side is also called the Caribbean, and that means Creole food, good music, relaxed people and a good time, so we just had to go.

It was supposed to be a simple two hour bus ride from coast to coast. Two breakdowns, a torrential downpour, a night in a wooden hut and two boats later we finally made it to the tiny Caribbean Island of Bastimentos.

The island is as idyllic as they come - one side is calm clear water with great coral for snorkelling and the other (a twenty minute walk through the jungle) has four pristine deserted beaches great for surfing (which we gave a go). The only beach that they have got round to naming is called Holas Chicas (Hello Girls) and is where a local has lived on his own for thirty years. He survives by cooking up lobster and coconut rice for five dollars to anyone that makes it round. The only residents of another beach are little red frogs, indigenous to the area. Remembering a bit of Patwa (the local dialect) from our time in Jamaica, we settled in, especially with the older locals whose Spanish was worse than ours! There is only village (and one path!) on the island and by the end of the first night we knew half the village (and hence island). We were even set to go on tour with the island band!

A proposed two day stop soon turned into a ten day stint and we moved into the house of our new friend Bola, the surfing Rasta and probably the most laid back guy I have ever met. It was with a fair bit of reluctance that we finally left for...

Costa Rica

With a border crossing bridge that resembled something out of Tenko or Bridge Over The River Kwai we entered Costa Rica. On the global scale of tourism this country is still relatively undeveloped, but compared to Bastimentos, the surf town of Puerto Viejo felt more like Benidorm!

After a quick stop in the lively capital San Jose we went to see Central America's most active volcano Arenal. Going from one extreme to another, we spent one evening on an isolated viewpoint watching (and hearing) the lava spurt out and another lolling in a thermal baths complex, where you could swim up to a bar and sup a poncy cocktail, with the volcano as a backdrop.

A long, six bus day later we entered...

Nicaragua - Isla de Ometepe

The largest island in a (shark-infested!) freshwater lake in the world, Ometepe is in fact a double island being formed by two volcanoes with a narrow central isthmus. I guess from above it looks like a figure of eight (or one of those silly drawings of a Mexican frying a egg). The larger (6,000ft) volcano is still officially active (though hasn't erupted for about forty years), whilst the smaller (5,000 ft) is dead and now covered in thick jungle.

We spent around a week on the isthmus at Santo Domingo in a choice $4-a-night room. It overlooked the beach (no, really), lake and had great views of both volcanoes.

One fateful day, with three new friends (two Aussie, one Canadian) we decided to climb the smaller volcano. Apparently at the top you can absail down into a crater lake and take a dip with the alligators. Taking the local 'bus' (a lorry where you hang on top with the fruit, rice, cupboards and anything else that needs moving) to the friendly village of Balgue, we started our 'two hour' ascent. Three steep, muddy, sweat-filled hours later we were still in jungle with no sight of the top and decided to start descending. Hearing a great howl from a group of howler monkeys (wonder where they got their name from) we turned the 'corner' and were met by their curious faces, all dangling from the trees just above us. Passing macaws and a strange porcupine/sloth (but missing the armadillos and boa constrictors) we made our way to the bottom and the return on the 'banana bus'.

On returning to Santo Domingo Chris's leg started to swell up to the size of a fairly mature oak tree trunk (infected mosquito bites from earlier in the trip). Later that day my camera went missing (annoyingly containing photos of three countries). With no luck from the local police (whose equipment consisted of a school exercise book for writing details in) and with Chris expecting Robin Hood and co. to meet around his leg at any minute, we left the island for...

Granada

The beautiful colonial city of Granada lies on the edge of Lake Nicaragua close to the Pacific coast, though due to its river link to the Caribbean coast it was regularly rampaged and looted in the past by British pirates.

Chris and I spent a bit of time in a convent! (it had a great display of ancient statues) and a bit more in the classy Club de Nintendo, er, um playing games. However whilst trying to lessen Chris's load (due to his ballooned leg) and carry both backpacks I dislocated my thumb, and so we couldn't even play video games painlessly.

Needing a suitable location for Chris's recuperation and impending birthday, we headed quickly past the cities of Leon, Managua and Esteli and into...

Honduras

The bus that took us over the border and into Honduras was the most fantastic piece of old junk I had ever the pleasure of travelling in. Again we were met by a stiff customs check (well the officer did contemplate getting out of his hammock to take a look at our bags). A brief stop in the capital of Tegucigalpa and we were heading back to the Caribbean again (hard life) and the town of...

Tela

When Chris, I and a friend Charlie had been in Jamaica we got to know the people of a place called Orange Hill. Chris and I had been thinking of trying to fit a return visit in on this trip, but the cost proved exorbitant, however we'd always talked of getting them a footy kit. Cue, the reaction on the owners face of a small shop in a little town in Honduras when two gringos walk in, buy up the whole orange kit he has in the window and ship it to Jamaica!

The Garifuna people are predominantly fishermen living in wooden and palmtree huts. For Chris's birthday we went with two new Dutch friends to see the local Garifuna band in their village of Triunfo de la Cruz. Yet again we got to know a band (including star drummer Roberto the Eagle) and the day was full of dancing on white sand, partying in the clear blue sea, drinking rum in coconuts, lazing in hammocks and other things you probably don't want to hear if you're reading this in a cold winter climate with summer still months away!

Cayos Cochinos - Chachauate

Wow!

(sorry about the winter climate line, but I'm afraid the reading is going to get harder).

Picture a white coral sand island 100 metres long by 25 metres wide, with only thatched huts and palm trees, surrounded by crystal clear turquoise later and you have Chachauate. Situated within a ring of seventeen Islands they make the bounty advert location resemble Skegness.

Officially the only island in this ring that anyone is allowed to stay on costs $800 a week per person. However we met someone who told us of $3 dollar a night Chachuate - he drew us a map to a town, from where we caught a bus to a isolated village, canoed down a river and spoke to the fishermen. Finally at 6am the next morning, chest deep in the sea, helping load up a small boat with supplies and then sitting precariously on top, we set off for the tiny Island. On average a traveller arrives here just once every two months. Settling into the only spare hut (all simply four walls of palmleaf with a sand (what else?!) floor) we soon became part of the 'village'.

There's no electricity or running water and it's fish for breakfast, lunch and tea, so it's not everyones idea of paradise. It was however for us and we soon got into the pace of life - sailing in dug-out boats with rice sacks for sails, snorkelling and just playing with the kids. They probably have no idea how lucky they are, or perhaps were - three weeks later Hurricane Mitch, the fourth strongest this century ripped through this area and I haven't been able to find out whether they survived OK yet, just hope so.

For the return trip to the mainland we set off at 4am under a beautiful, clear starry night sky which then turned into the best sunrise I've ever seen (sorry, no pictures - we were too busy trying to stay in the boat!).

Utila

With the temperature at 96F in the shade (140F in the sun) we landed on the island of Utila. Reputedly the cheapest place in the world to learn to dive, it's a real travellers hangout. The locals are mainly descended from pirates and speak a type of English with a curious Cornish/Scottish accent.

I grew up with zero sense of confidence in the water (my dad would offer me a bar of Dairy Crunch if I put my head under in the pool for even a second - and yet I still normally chickened out). Trying to tackle the demons head on I enlisted for a dive course. Four days of barracudas, seahorses, rays, coral and fish asleep in sponges later I was qualified. Looking to get my money's worth, I then started an advanced course within an hour of ending the last, and hence the formerly hydrophobic Dairy Crunch Kid was soon a night, wreck and deep diving aqua-junkie!

Copan

Close to the border with Guatemala lies the picturesque town of Copan, Nearby are Mayan ruins with great stelae sculptures. Whilst traipsing through these ruins I recognised someone I went to college with (Hi Abi). A small world as they say.

Guatemala

Our first stop in Guatemala was the postcard pretty, but now a bit touristy, former capital of Antigua. We managed to meet up with some good friends that I had met in Ecuador (hi Nat and Lionel) and then headed for...

Lake Atitlan

The small town of San Pedro lies on the edge of Lake Atitlan but has an island feel about it. Chris and I belatedly took a week's Spanish course at probably one of the most laid-back (sitting outside by the lake) and cheapest schools in the world. The rest of the day we just sat and ate with the locals. Sporting our new "Orange Hill" footy tops, we almost got signed up for the local team! Night-time was spent at a travellers hang-out called 'Nicks Place' (owned by a English lad called Dean!) and basically chilling-out. Nice place!

Tikal

The ruins of Tikal lie deep within the jungle. Entering the site at 4.30am we managed to climb up one of the principal temples before sunrise and get a fantastic panoramic view as the sun rose and the mist cleared from the treetops. After nine hours touring the site we left as a lot of people were still arriving.

Belize

My shortest visit to a country since a bypass in Luxembourg, Belize is apparently similarly beautiful to its neighbours, but for some reason three times as expensive, and hence we were soon in..

Mexico

Over a month was what we had planned for Mexico - less than two weeks was what we now had before Chris's flight out of L.A.

Playa del Carmen

First stop was the town of Playa del Carmen and a big shock for us - package holidaymakers!!! Nothing in our past travels had prepared us for this scenario, but luckily via a local called 'Jimmy No-problem', along with Israeli friend Ammos, we found a cheap secure retreat house on the edge of town.

After three days on the beach, plus scuba-diving with some new Mexican friends it was time to leave. Or rather the big man from above told us it was time. The past day had seen over a foot of rainfall, our house was like a giant shower, the yard like a swimming pool and the front of the paper simply said "It's coming" (referring to Hurricane Mitch). Most of the hotels were being evacuated and the queue for the bus to Cancun Airport was three blocks long. We managed to get the last two tickets on a posh bus inland to Merida. This bus was full of locals, a sure sign that something was up.

The Road Trip

On arriving late in the evening in Merida, I had another jaw-dropping sight. Whilst walking past a bar (wouldn't dream of going in of course) I glanced in and saw two good friends from England (Gareth and Anne). They were touring around on holiday and were now hoping to go to Playa del Carmen. Showing them the newspaper with satellite photo of Mitch, we persuaded them to join us in the opposite direction. We hired a car and set off on a temple tour.

The next week was spent at sites such as Uxmal, Chitzen Itza (where on the equinoxes a shadow of a serpent cascades down the main stairs) and Palenque (where, in 1952, a massive intricately carved sarcophagus for the ancient ruler Pacal was found, deep within the main temple). We also saw the chiefly Indian towns of San Cristobal de las Casas and Oaxaca, as well as the waterfalls of Agua Azul, which in this weather could have been suitably retitled Agua Cafe.

After a Le-Mans style three man drive to Mexico City we dropped Gareth and Anne at the airport for their flight home. They had barely seen any sun or even dry weather, but thankfully we had outrun the hurricane.

Chris and I then set out to negotiate the roads of the most populous city in the world. Three and a half hours later, with our brakes (and patience) rapidly deteriorating, we reached the old centre and a cheap hotel.

Teotihuacan

Returning to the buses for transport, we set off the next morning for the huge pre-Aztec site of Teotihuacan. The principal pyramids here are as large (in fact almost identical ground dimensions) to the more famous ones at Giza, Egypt. Some recent studies have suggested that from above the main structures show Orion's Belt and that the overall structure is used to portray the solar system. Just as intriguingly we saw the mica temple, where immense sheets of this natural semiconductor have been sandwiched between stone inside at least two structures.

Off to see Uncle Sam

Back in Mexico City, we ate a great breakfast overlooking the Zocalo (the second-largest square in the world after the red one in Moscow). Laden with goodies and tales, we took a flight (the bus was the same price and 48 hrs non-stop!) to Tijuana and the luxury of being picked up by my brother and partner Jennie. A short hop over the border and we reached San Diego, which is where I am now. (Chris continued on to Los Angeles and is now still lapping it up in Australia).

I haven't written much about the temples in general because that's what I'm now here writing some things about, but if you're interested send me a email (or just send one to say hello anyrate) and I will tell you my thoughts.

I trust this little ditty finds you, in fine fettle for the forthcoming festivities and hopefully I'll see some of you in 1999!

Hasta la Vista, baby!

Pat