Guanajuato, Guanajuato --> Blog 70

Almost every town and city in Mexico is predictably set out. In the classic grid form of streets means that usually the Cathedral and Zocalo (park... always beside or in front of the church) is easily found.

One exception of this was Cancun town, a newer place, that just runs off a highway. The other exception was Guanajuato.

Guanajuato is classic and European and beautiful. I am not completely sure if it is European actually, but what I presume to be European (athough in reality, they could all be considered European coz they were all designed by the Spaniards).. with windy paths to homes, without room for cars or many people. It isn't with fences, but the walls of the various brightly coloured homes ...

The street has some beautiful yellow and pink churches, cafes, shops, a park and a theatre - Teatro Juarez. When I arrived it was Sunday so there were people everywhere, picnicking and watching artists, buskers and street-chalkers. There is a statue of a man up on the hill, with a gondala up to it... I walked. Boy, was that steep. And long, I didn't go straight up, but around. I got to the top - parched as. Luckily there was a little home-dairy at the top. It was stilted, looking like it was out of a film. Because it was on the hill, overlooking the whole beautiful, colourful city - it must have an amazing view. There was no one in the 'shop', which like so many others was just part of their home. I, with my cold water in hand, walked through to the family room where the lady was changing a babies nappy on the ground.

I was tiptoeing and really awkward, coz I was just standing in her house. In un-parched, NZ situations, I would've bolted. But here, I was thirsty and Mexican.

The view from that Statue is ridiculous.. so beautiful and postcardesque.

Puebla, the ¨¨Pueblo¨¨

At least this is what I was told, therefore had imagined in my head (something I think I have mentioned I am trying to stop as it gives me false hope... I have a fun imagination.)

Pueblo in spanish is Town... not city. I have heard a lot of Puebla, my teacher Claudia was a fan, including my Aus pals. But they all called it a Pueblo. It is the Religious capital of Mexico, with 365 churches (apparently).. because the churches celebrate anniversarys, this also makes it a party capital. No, in actual fact - there are a lot of nuns and not a lot of noise.

The thing is, town in my head - Nelson doesn{t even qualify. We are talking Motueka, Collingwood even (or is that acommunity?)... Puebla has over 1.5 million people! We are talking Auckland!

Anyways, it was different to my head (aka all the buildings were double storied, with the churches hidden amongst them), but stunning all the same. Since Mexico city I have struggled to take 2 steps without taking a phot, I even found myself deleting lots of grey D.F ones to make room for the beautiful colours of the buildings (D.F is Mexico City region, as my teacher said ¨Like Washington - D.C.... D.F, Like Washington).
The hostel there was soooo beautiful . It was double storied with a courtyard in the middle. After my Mexi-Hostel tour I have been thinking that that is what I want to do in the future.. one of the many things. In saying that, I have also decided where I want to retire... without having graduated. So I am getting slightly ahead of myself. I do not think far in the future though usually... hell, I booked my flight for Mexico 5 days before.
I told my parents I was going back to School in Aus for 2nd year ..2 years before? Same with my 1st year of Uni... I have just realised this, I may have a problem.

So, apologies for hardly ever talking about Mexico on my Bloga Mexicana.

Back to it, I got on the bus after arriving in Puebla (the station is huge, hint that maybe this place is bigger than I thought?) at about 8pm. Jumped on the bus outside labelled Centro, as always.
I didn{t know where to get off, but saw this backpacker jump off and just followed him.
The Hostel is advertised as Puebla{s first and only, so figured he was heading there too.
He was... and although I forget his name, he was a nice French boy with a Travel Guide. He wasn{t using it, saying he was bad at using maps. So he insisted we ask around for the location.
Once again, the Mexicans were lovely and willing to help... but not too helpful. Many a circles were walked in as each person had different theories.

I took charge with the map, as Maps are kinda my talent, leading us straight for it. He still insisted on asking some Policemen, so we took the way they thought as opposed to what I thought. It was wrong of course, I wanted to do a ´told you so¨ dance, but remembered that this guy was not one of my brothers, but a French stranger I had only just met. I don¨t mind my brothers thinking I´m annoying.

Anyways, the kids from the schools danced and the Phil. orch. performed (I saw them practicing in a museum terrace earlier in the day. I went to another Museum, I don{t know what it was really..it was called house of someone and it was basically an old mansion with treasures in it. I went coz I asked the girl at the desk for the best Museums. I also went to one involved in the Revolution, appropriate because it was the day before - where an important family involved.. I think it was the Hildagos? Lived in during, it still has all the bullet holes on the outside wall.. that was thrilling enough!
A Mariachi band also performed.,... for hours. The Mexicans really love it.. the overweight-moustached man (opera singer ish) with the high Mariachi pants cracks jokes and they eat it up. They do the classics and everyone sings along. I really love the Mariachi bands. They are everywhere at night. I actually came across this random park in Mexico city, slightly north of the tourist route, where it was like a meeting place for them. They were all hanging around, some wihth intruments, some without.. with their uniforms, one colour (high pants with a cool jacket) embellished up the sides and shoulders with another colour - usually gold or silver.

I have been eating a lot of street food as of late, as I am spending $35 pesos, a bit over $3.50 on food. The way to do this with ease, is to eat food from stalls. I have become a whorey traveller - I think I explained earlier that whorey is stank, as in crappy... not prostitutesque.
This is because I packed next to none clothes (still where my trusty stockings eveyday.. usually to be soon... whorey), came with only a bar of soap and deod. No shampoo (my hair has DIED..I unravelled it in Puebla (without a brush.. why remake it everyday? it stayed in a ball onthe top of my head), it was like straw. I have never had good hair care, but next to the huge knot I got when I was ten and had to get cut out, this is a Maria Williams´ hair lowpoint.
I also don{t have face wash, so there goes my clear skin, or moisturiser... had a small tub on sunscreen which lasted me about a day.. anywho, part of this is because my carryon bag is small, part is because I am lazy anyways, part is because I thought the airplane wouldn{t like liquids (some do not, becuase they are intl and domestic.. everyone has to follow intl rules).
I have my toothbriush, although my teeth do not feel clean. They have not the whole time I have been here... worrying?

It was a nice change from Mexico City, this wasmore my kinda place. I did not accomplish much there, butI am at the point where I like doing nothing. Just sitting with the locals.
Long and shortof it, Puebla was beautiful, different to how I had pictured it, thanks to my Mexicanos. In all seriousness though, I love Mexicans.

Part Dos - MEETING SWISS BALLS

PART DOS:

Wish I could have taken photos, there was a range of art tributes to the heroes of Mexico, but all my faves included battle scenes or meeting scenes

with very delicately made and painted figurines. What an art - literally here kids!

I homed it via Metro, the 3rd time at night (I trust people too much), but all was well. Took my usual route back to the hostel through the gay bondage market.

I was on the computer checking my emails, resting my feet, reading about NZ news, Wills and Kate´s engagement (why are we all so fascinated?) and

talking with a porn star.

WHAT??

Oh yes, let me elabourate, but in an abridged form (that still counts right?)

I was talking to the guy at the desk, Christian, who has been the source of some of my misinformation. I don´t know where it came from but here it goes:

¨I hate people in LA... ¨¨¨

Do you live there?

Yeah, but I hate it - girls roll up your sleeve to see if you are wearing an expensive watch before they talk to you¨

So why do you live there?

That´s where you have to be if you´re an actor

Ohh.. you´re an actor?

Well, kinda. I am actually the best porn star in the world at the moment¨

WHHATTT

(laughs)

It´s true, Google me.

(laughs, while googling)

How did you get into that?

Oh ya know, just like how you get into any another job¨ (ahh, not really!) I studied Psych and Sociology at college, knew some people---¨

It´s true, Google me.

What makes you the best in the world?

I won 2010 AVN best actor... that is an Porn Oscar.

Ohhh, so just like an Oscar?!

After that I got into mainstream too.. It opened up acting opportunities... I have been in Iron Man 2, CSI Miami, CSI New York ( you can imagine the way he is listing these right?)

I have been in an acting class with Will Smith, J-Lo (and a few other actors I don´t remember now, but recognised at the time). He listed this all very quickly and matter of factly. Just from watching them, I knew how to act. I knew what it takes...

(various questions and skepticism came from this, as a lifelong Fresh Prince fan, I am aware that he is one of the highest paying actors, so I had all these questions as he said it was really cheap as there are so many acting classes and for starts - how is he at the same level ??

Turns out his teacher let him sit in in the class with them, he watched.

At this stage my focus was more on getting info on the royal wedding, so he bust out his comp and pulled up a screen with a few people in the forground and a few thousand solediers in the background (at least, that is what I thought they were.. it was hard to tell)

There I am in Iron Man 2! (pointing at one of the soldiers).. to give him credit.. i suspect most of the others where computer generated.

(laughs again)

Oh well, good on you!

I will try and find the other scene I am in.....I have had some speaking roles too..

(he also told me about winning his award, his reaction, his trip around the world, how his facebook fan page got cancelled. what makes him good at his job and various other topics....I told him I was from NZ.)

Real name: Paul ___

Porn Star Name: Eric Swiss. (I thought it was meant to be your pet and your 1st street....?)

Starred in; Not Married with Children xxx 1 and 2, Not Charlies Angels xxx, Not the Cosbys xxx

Known for: Being the best porn star in the world, 2010

Another Maria Misadventure - Welcome back to MEX!

I have to mention my journey back to Mexico. Because, it was ridiculous. It didn{t have to be, but was.
I got a midnight bus from the city Chetmal, close to the Mex boarder. I was really hungry but the same dairy options food was all that was available. I am addicted to these salted chips they have, so I got a huge pack (way overpriced). Anyways, i got on my cheap bus as I watched all the other tourists load onto ADO with a TV, toilet and A-C.. I had spent all my spare pesos (remember I was just coming from Belize) on that damn taxi from the boarder.

The good news was that my cheap MAYAB bus had a backseat. So I actually slept better laid out than I had on any other of the 20-odd buses I had taken so far. The driver woke me up because originally my plan was to head back to Tulum. Knowing that the hostel was crap here, I changed my mind as I was leaving the bus. The bus had ran away quick-smart though. it was about 3am though, so I waited for a twice as expensive ADO to take me the extra hour and a half. The lady was all ¨The bus you were on was going to Playa del Carmen^^as I have found Mexicans do often. It is like, thanks for that information now, but as the bus has pulled away it is not too useful. I am still not on the bus and also now, I am a LITTLE pissed off.

Anyways, I got to Playa del Carmen at about 4.30am. I did not know the address of my hostel, which I didn{t think would matter because we had showed up to EVERY OTHER CITY OR TOWN in this country (and Belize) with addresses, and NEVER had to pull them out. This mistake would proove fatal.

JUST JOSHING - no one died. But part of my spirit did.
To cut a long story short (I feel I have told this already, but It may have just been to friends), I found a guy who claimed he knew my hostel.. the taxi drivers did not, but this guy had a bike with a little carriage on the front for either people or baggage. He said he would take me there. Great.
First however, he had to take other people somewhere else. That was okay, I was willing to sit on the bench. There was not much to see at this hour, but I was sitting on a bench in a street by a church leading to the ocean. Turns out this street during the day is full of food stalls, and the church is the only in this part of town so people CRAM into it everyday as they are surrounded by tourists (the bus station is on the main tourist drag, opposite McDonalds).
The man returned after about 20 minutes. This time my patience (that rarely exists) was a lot thinner as he passed with other people{s things... ¡Que pasa? I asked (what happened?), but he assured me he would be back soon.

Before this he was trying to convince me that my hostel, on 20th Street, was expensive and had a bad location. He was trying to sell another hotel, where comission lies I guess, but I wasn{t budging. It made me not really like him though. At 4am, I don{t want problems.

I waited 30 minutes more, but he didn{t return. I would not have waited 5 minutes normally, particularly after he passed me the 2nd time, but my bags were heavy and I was sick of lugging them around. Enough joints and muscles had felt enough pain.

SIDE NOTE: Have I mentioned my bags? I lugged a suitcase (on wheels, although in Mexico with the roads, this sometimes is not an advantage) of 25kg, and a carry-on of 15kg... this was purely books. For school, Mother. I also have my school satchel which carries my camera. For a bag from Thailand, it is doing well.

Well, I set off, with my information that my hostel was on 20th street. Unfortunately, parallel to the big main tourist street I started at, 5 (which was parallel to the sea, after that was Calle 10, then 15, then 20), was a beast of a street. So there I was, with my heavyass bags, in the dark walking this street for a long time - sweating, I may add. I was in shorts but with a jersey for the buses AC. I only encountered party-ers on their way home and taxi drivers. Many stopped, many were questioned about my hostel. None knew it.
I was confused about this because I found it on HostelWorld, a website that is a very valuable resource, as the highest rated. But people must use the address to get there, not the name. Unfortunately, I had the wrong information necessary.
About an hour after starting off I was at the other bus station in the other side of the centre, asked people in the station, taxi drivers and street vendors setting up their stalls... but alas, no one knew. It is annoying to be in a place with 100 billion different accomodations because there are always some with the same name... my hostel was Hostel Rio Playa (aka Hostel River, Beach) and people were telling me of Hotel Rio, Hotel Playa.. most people also did not know what a hostel was... I was basically calling it a cheap hotel.
I had realised that I had reached the end of the tourist district. I took the road towards the sea thinking, I will just go to the first hostel I see. I walked right into the main party district where town was still pumping. If you have ever had little sleep, you will know that lights and sounds are not what you want to hear. So, I asked another taxi driver about the hostel, apparently on calle 20... explaining I had walked all of calle 20. He informed me that there is also Avenue 20.. fabulous! So It could be there...
I was on Avenue 14 so it did not seem like much of a stretch. I hightailed over to avenue 20, by this time I had seen most of the city. I could tell the sun was going to rise. This SUV pulled over offering me a ride to my hostel, but that turned into - ´you should come to this afterparty with us^ which turned into Hasta la Vista from me.

I was so tired, not from sleep at this point, but my legs and arms.. so I decided to watch the sunrise. It was a mission to the beach, as it has proved many times in Mexico, although it is close - there are hotels and residences blocking the way. But I got there, among the tourists (like me who like sunsets and rises), runners (unlike me) and people still in party gears.
I can say that I was the first person in the ocean that day. It was so nice.

That was when the photo up the top of the page was taken. I didn{t set it up, the boy was jumping from the wharf where my bags were left, onto the sand. He jumped into my shot, I was going to pull away but realised it was cool.

Anyways, with this refreshment I was back on track to find this place. Now with light on my side, more people about to help and a new determination to find this bloody hostel - I was off and racing. I was not stopping with my bags to ensure people could pass me on the sidewalk without having to step onto the road, smiling as they passed. I was charging through with a don{t mess with me, thanking them after they jumped onto the road out of the way of the mad woman lugging 50kg (more or less). Also, my toenail was still at the height of pain... so I limped this whole way in my crocs too. I was such a pathetic sight I am actually suprised more people did not stop to help me.

I walked the whole of Avenue 20 which went from Laundromats and apartments just outside of the centre, to barrios-neighbourhoods of local people. Half way up the Avenue I found something that would be hard to part with many hours later - a shopping trolley. Turns out I was one road over from the main highway with the WALMART and Supermarket. It was frustration that lifted up and threw my bags into that trolley. Past all the homes and meat shops and stares from people, I met the end of the street. Not cool. But onto that highway I went, having a break to by some bandages and cream from my toe.
At this stage it was about 8am. So this has actually been a longer time than I make it out to be.. there were also stops along the way on vaious benches/sidewalks.

I headed back towards town in the hopes of finding an internet cafe that was open. I was on calle 10 (parallel with 20 and 5, for those trying to visualise.. I know the roadmap of Playa del Carmen VERY well now) when I asked a traffic cop (eating a sandwhich) for the nearest internet cafe I did not realise that this cop may have just been the ONLY person who could have told me the location of the hostel, alas - he was standing RIGHT outside it.

So I wandered for a little bit looking for an internet cafe that was open, to find the address of the hostel that I had just been talking to a cop outside. I also recieved an email from my parents saying there was a letter from the school as I had failed to fax in signed pages that proove I have been at school (some rule to do with being a student in Aus), which I was not in the mood for (as they threaten to fail you etc) as it panicked me. But also I logged into Facebook where waiting for me where lots of Birthday messages, which I appreciated.

I found the address and walked over two streets to find me back with my friend the traffic cop (he had finished his sandwhich). Here, I ended up at the hostel, told the guy at the desk I had been looking for it for hours... got offered the free breakfast which I gratefully accepted, probably taking more than my fair share of cereal (bad decision due to the milk here, it hadn{t even been refridgerated) toast with jam (which is what they feed you at every hostel in Mexico) and the fresh fruit. Then I slept.

When I woke up again at 4pm I went in search of a meal, I found Vegetarian Fajitas (which after 3 months here, had never found), so excited and hungry I was willing to pay $120, about $13.50 NZ, which is now 1st equal for the most expensive meal I have had here (the other being the $120 peso buffet we were forced into buying on the tour in Oaxaca).
Fajitas, actual mexican ones, are similar to veges and chicken done in a wok with a tomato sauce, then served with tortillas, salsas and sometimes refried beans. They were delicious. Huge too, so it was my lunch the next day. I will never forget that meal and from here on out my life mission is to try and recreate it.

I really liked PLaya del Carmen, it has a beautiful big beach then a no-car tourist drag where there are the largest ammount of tourist shops and restaurants I have seen all together. Baskin Robbins, Starbucks and Hagen Daaz all appear on every block of it too. Cuban cigar shops litter the streets all these things together create an American Tourists dream. Everything is in US prices.
One thing that annoyed me was that the tourists there were very irritated by the Mexican people{s attempts to make a sale. Instead of saying No, gracias or No, thank you like what happens here in Puerto Vallarta and at Markets, people just blatently ignore them. I think I was sensitive to this because of how much changes this part of the country has gone through to cater for these, majority American, tourists. They plead with them to look there way, but the response is ignored or a rude response. When I say No gracias, I say it firm but friendly, no one feels ill feelings towards me! Success.

I stayed here 2 days and 2 nights, sleeping for most of the time! I had a very high bunk which was good because I was close to the fan, once I got up there I didn´t have the energy to come back down. I made it down to go to the bus station, which due to my long arrival experience I thought was going to be far... turns out it is 4 streets over... small blocks.

The drive to Cancun was very supped-up highways... I felt like I was driving into Las Vegas (apart from the fact it was green), seeing the huge hotels in the distance. I suspected Cancun to be a cross between Las Vegas and Gold Coast... in some ways it was, but it was actually different to how I expected.....

A few phots

Caye Caulker, Belize

Quintana Roo, Mexico

First thing I did on return to PV?
Buffet.

Belize backtrack

Behind again... partially due to lack of computer availability and partially due to laziness.

Took an expensive bus last night, which is the quickest option from Guadalajara - but meant it

left at 12.30am and arrived at 5.30am. I am very tired.

I got offered Cocaine this morning, but more on that later. Later: So I starting walking from the Bus station, without info about where the highway was. It was dark and confusing, being 5am, so I wandered. And wandered. I eventually was in this village... a man there was all nice and took pity and offered me a drive as he was going into town for 'work'. He then was asking if I want, what seemed to be, his hand. On that hand was powder. I was confused at first, coz I couldn't see anything and he started rambling 'Oh, I have been drinking and smokin" and I'm all 'Wahhh?' and offered to drive. He got out to use the bathroom, leaving me there to panic. He came back in and was all 'I am not a bad person', and 'I will tell you a secret..I am a dealer'. I was all, 'That's not good'... and he rambled more about how it is bad, but hard to get work, cocaine is easy, supports the fam... 

He was a nice guy, but how much he changed from the guy lifting my bags into his car to the drunk?high? rambler, I was not trusting of his sober-state. As soon as we got on the highway (him still rambling), I was all 'My bus stop is the next one!', asked if he wanted a tip, but saying he probs shouldn't drive people around. I was grateful, but torn. 

BACKTRACK TO BELIZE:

The next day in Belize we really did nothing but wander the island and swim.

THE NEXT DAY HOWEVER, we took a tour with the lady who gave me all this stuff to use on my nail (after she saw me hobbling down the road wincing.. what a nice lady), the Barrier reef is very close to the island actually, so we did not have to spend an hour and a half on the boat like in Aus, it also cost around $30 NZ, not $120 Aus, that is another bonus. It also did not kill Steve Irwin.

In conclusion, I liked the 2nd largest reef in the world better than the titleholder.

I love snorkelling, muchly, but find that it is pretty much the same everywhere you go... lots of the same fish and coral. But I still loved it, I just don{t know how to differentiate between different countries.. BUT the 2nd stop, was CRAZZZZY.

The driver man, assited by his 9 year old son - Kevin - who is the next generation of tour leaders, ripped up fish and put them in a tube. Seconds later, about 15 stingrays and 6 Nurse sharks were all around the boat. He jumped in and was petting them, touching them everywhere to show they are friendly... we got in one by one, Roisin was swearing her head off in her thick accent. This American (from the South) lady did not stop screaming and was going {BABBBBYYYY) to her husband everytime one was coming near. It was her first time snorkelling - she was thrown in the deep end alright.

It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. I was trying to watch from a distance, but at one stage about 5 stingrays came up around my feet and I jumped up, in a ball on my back, furiously wading in the water. I had my eyes closed and geniuinely freaked out - blood chilling it was. Knowing that they do have powerful stings and will attack if touched on.

The nurse sharks are quite funny looking, all there features are round and they have light brown skin(?).. their fangs actually look quite comical. I was patting them a bit, this Spanish guy was clowning around... trying to be all tricky with his feet and such - not worth the risk I reckons.

Later that day I caught the ferry back to Belize city, alone. Boy, was I sad to leave my Irish Parents.. I was really casual with them but then when I was in the ferry I found myself quite upset!

I was out of money so needed the ATM, where I walked to once back in bay... I was a bit more scared than I was the morning I took this walk, as the sun had just set and it was getting dark. Men are everywhere.. just sitting or standing around... how people in these countries don{t get bored, I have no idea.

Near the bank is the ´square´ where I knew to find the taxi drivers, as it is where they sleep. One short, jolly-Santa man waved me down from a block away so I went straight for him.

He had a Previa. I love Previas... aka Bretheran vans. One day when we were in our old one up near the Bretheran school, they all tooted and waved at us - thinking we were one of theres. It felt good to be accepted.

My jolly bus driver told me about how the City used to be a bright, quiet and safe place, but now there is a lot of drugs and therefore thievery... he doesn´t like living here much anymore. I felt bad for him and the good people of the city - such things we don´t really have to worry about. I thought it was a great shame, as it does look like it was once a pretty city. The government is also very corrupt, he told me, even Obama sent a message about how corrupt it was - they really like Obama here, I´ve noticed. Lots of people bear the T-Shirts in the city, I guess it is because the city is mainly a community made up of African Slave ancestory. I think Belize looks up to USA quite a lot too....

Anyways, I went to the bus station - very different to the classy ones of Mexico - everyone stared at me from the moment I walked in to the second I got off the bus. Most of it was outside, but sheltered, with lots of food stalls. Every 2nd person asked where I was trying to be and pointed me the way. A lady came on with hot clove bread and I got some of the. Wish I had got more - it was so fresh, so nice. The ride was very interesting. I took the bus all the way to Corozal, so I must have been on it for a good few hours. There was a back door to the bus, men kept getting out to use the bathroom then quickly running and jumping back on when the driver was yelling to close the door. It was on the highway, but through neighbourhoods. I saw a LOT of Chinese supermarts and restaurants. Even the non-chinese ones, are all named with the person who runs it name. I like this. Most the businesses are ´Andrea´s´ or ´Wong Fu´s´... I like it coz it´s like - ¨I did this, I am gonna make sure everyone knows that it´s mine´.

When I got on the bus, it was 100% (bar me, obviously) black people. When I got off the bus, it was 100% Mayan or Mexican. Some of them ARE Mexican, the bus driver was speaking Spanish, some of them are not - but the boarderline is quite faint up the north there.
I didn´t actually realise this until we stopped in a city - Orange Walk´- up North and the bus driver put on a Mexican music CD. I wondered why he was only busting this out now, when he could{ve put it on hours ago, when women got on the bus to walk the aisle selling Corn and Tamales (the fave Mex snackS) ...I looked around and saw only Mayan or Mexican Belizeans - on the bus, in the street.. Spanish was what people now speaking. It opened to my eyes to Belizean Culture... there is more to it than meets the eye.

IT ws an expensive effort to get back across the boarder, as unfortunately it was now about 10pm and all the buses for the day had stopped. I try to be a budget traveller, but there are good tricks I am learning for the next trip I go on. I had to Taxi there in a van... I was scared for my life for a few minutes there. Not because the van was unsafe, but because my partyman driver was BLARING the music (latest RnB, classic) but driving RIDICULOUSLY fast - but not really paying sticking to his side of the road. At all. This made me particularly queezy when we were going around the various bends on the wrong side .. that with the fact that there were no lights on the road.. it was now black so I had no idea what was ahead of us. Early on I was furiously grabbing for the seatbelt, couldn´t find the bottom bit and he reached over to try and help - meaning taking his eyes off the road and bending right to the ground - I was like ´´It´s okay - you drive, I will look for that.´He was all ´We don´t use seatbelts in Belize´, I was ´Even in this car? DRIVE PLEASE´. I got the buckle eventually, but it had obviously not been used for a while.
I walked through the crossing, with about 20 people all heading to the Casinos in no-mans-land. Once I got out into the middle part, I took photos of myself in front of each country. I got a whistle and looked toward the Belize side. The guy was waving his arm casually at me. I took another photo. ´No!´he yelled, must of thought i was working for some government. He probably thought I would put the photos on some blog, or something. I have found I have looked like a bad-ass on a few occasions here, because their ´´You are not meant to be doing that´´ signals and messages are so weak that I just think they are waving, like this guy. He was leaned back in his chair, one ankle up on the other leg, with his hand behind his head. It looked like a ´See ya, Thanks for coming to Belize, mon.´

A few stolen photos from Tulum

The first group shot has my Irish parents in the middle and the Turks on the outskirts. The guy on the left insisted having the palm in the shot. It was at Akumal, where there is a turtle reserve.

On the top right the picture is taken from the Mayan Tulum ruins.. it was a fishing village.. none of the actual ruins are in this shot...

These beach shots are from Tulum. These were the first glimpses we saw of the Caribbean! Boy, were they good first glimpses... I only hope they come out as good on my camera..

Merida to now (if I can manage)

Right. Apologies for the behind-ness. Everywhere we were going we spent a night there so it was crucial to actually see the place we were in... and not spend hours in internet cafes.

Last post was Number 50. But it was pitiful, so this one kinda is.
APOLOGIES for writing so much pointless crap, but I want to remember it ALL but can{t be assed writing in a diary. It is probs just my Ma and Pa reading this still so no wuz cuz.

But now, my brain is scattered and full. Apologies about no photos... I thought it would be easy to attach them... try it on Mexico Comps.

We headed from Palenque to Merida on an overnight bus - funny thing by the way: Palenque did not have an ATM for my bank so my Irish parents had to pay my way. I actually feel like they are parents... they have these trips planned out and I just follow them wherever they go. Now they were also shelling out for meals, a la Gary. Actually, Roisin finds it hard to like people - like my real life mum. She also walks very fast like her too.


The bus ride was cold, as always, but I managed to sleep for most of it. As the bus pulled into the station I did a last min toilet dash (while gratis aka free) barefoot. I contemplated ´putting on my crocs but in classic naive fashion thought *What could possibly go wrong?*


I will tell you what could go wrong - these damn doors are REALLY hard to open, because they can{t be swinging about over bumpy roads. I thought someone was in it originally, but since the bus only consisted of my Irish parents, a French hippy girl, a Mexican man in the back and a Mexican couple (who potentially were on their first bus trip as they wandered the bus trying to work out where they were supposed to sit. They asked the French girl who helpfully said [Up there somewhere* so I offered to help. They were seats 9 and 10, right infront of me..I am sure you were dying to know). Anyways, a quick scan of the automobil accounted for all people.
Tried the door. Really tried the 2nd time. On the third I yanked SO hard.. third time lucky.

Or Unlucky.
I whacked the BEJEEZUS out of my toe. As I may have mentioned, I have broken both large toes... and they have never fully healed. I whack them and there is instant pain and this time.. a lot of blood.

What I only learnt later when the immense pain had not departed, I had actually cut it open AND ripped the toenail half up. Sorry for that detail.. but that is obviously the story.
So that explains why I was hopping around like a crazy, mime-Screaming.
I should have recognised the signs because this is exactly what happened to my teacher, Mr Cross, on form one camp when we all attacked him with a waterfight. But he hopped around like crazy and mime-Swore.

Anways, that was - and still is - painfull. Could not see too much of what was happening originally, due to my stylish silver with pink-purple glitter nailpolish (When in Mexico...), but it is quite demented. I will spare the gory details, but I would have liked this injury had a better story come with it.

The hostel in Merida was beautiful. It had a nice terrace area with tables and was painted all my faves - mainly yellow with some red, blue and green too. And it had a big ass pool. I didn{t want to leave... still sad I have really. Although there was nothing much happening in Merida - was still awesome. The first morning I sat nursing my toe as I talked with a nice British couple about Flight of the Conchords for about 2 hours.


So I wandered the town on the first day - eating at a place with the Meal-of-the-day for $38 pesos, good deal - and the locals were swarming the place.
Tostado (type of corn chips really... but not made from corn?) with hot hot salsa and a fabulous vege soup. Enchilladas for the main.. I skipped on the chick so beans, vege and salad filled my tortillas. The drink was Jamaica. Have I mentioned this drink (pronounced Ha-my-ka)? Obviously the name of the Rasta country, but also dried habiscus flowers boiled with water. It is apparently really good for you.. it comes out purple and with sugar tastes like Ribena. Probs has more vitamin C too (BURN).

I was heading for the town centre when I saw a theatre with a local comedy with it{s opening night that night (15th) and thought I{d go. *It has been a while since I saw theatre* Thought I.

Well, go to theatre I did... but not that show. Unfortunately for those cheap $20 peso thespians, I found a better $75 peso offer. So for the price of a kids movie ticket at our local State theatre, I watched an enthusiastic team put on SPRAY (aka HAIRSPRAY aka the musical) with the tag line {No puedo parar] - I can not stop... I recognised this and the design and picture on the poster as the beloved musical.

Despite work getting done onthe theatre so it was filled with thick dust, I sacrificed a clear throat for my high class ticket, then hurried back to the hostel to get changed.

No time to eat, as the show started at 7pm. But it did not - I never know when Mexican time aplies and when it doesn{t. There have been awkward tours where I have held up everyone, thinking the oposite would happen so just pottering around wasting time. Just the other day at Chichen Itza, I split from the parents who wanted a tour.. then they waited for me for an hour!

Back to business: The show curtain raised at about 7:40 pm. I have found Mexican audiences don{t take theatre particularly seriously. For starters: there was hardly anyone there. For seconds - the people who were there were all part of large family-contingents bearing flowers.. so were forced there by a cast member. People slept, talked, ate and texted during the show and no one seemed to care. The biggest laughs came with technical difficulties, everyone loved when the set guys came on, because the lights were always up.

I sat with the other 30 odd people (In Teatro Merida, which can hold 100s), thinking about the lack of funds our theatre groups have... and how could they afford the rights to a big Broadway musical like this.... Again, the *Is Mexico 3rd world or 1st world* argument played itself out and I realised that this show was more 3rd world than 1st.. no rights had been purchased, but rather a burnt-subtitled-copy of the 2007 film starring John Travolta as Edna Turnblad. The dance moves, jokes and styles were all direct copíes, I learnt early on. This worked in my favour, as most the time I didn{t know what they were saying, but did from knowing the movie.
The cast were REALLY good. Very over the top, but I have watched Mexican TV so expected nothing less. All the actors playing the African-American parts (a vital part of the show, set in Civil Rights movement) were literally painted black. At first I was a bit shocked, but nothing harsh was meant from it.

The next day we missioned to this attraction that the Conchord{s fans spoke of. There are these things called CENOTES, which are literally waterholes underground. The town we visited... we think the whole town survives off this tourism.. we took a local bus (aka a white van) to the town, from their they take you in a cart on the front of your motorscooter to the *trucks*.

The trucks are carts which are on train tracks, pulled with a horse and a driver steering. So fabulously old times... I loved it - something uninfluenced. What was best is that we had the oldest driver, Abuela aka Grandfather, he even had his name painted on the cart, all the other drivers really respected him.

There was only one path (and four people max to a cart) and carts coming two ways so they had to stop, let their horse eat grass and physically lift their cart off the tracks, one side at a time. Paudraic kept trying to proove his manhood and help - but just got in the way. BORED YET?
These Cenotes... holy... one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen - National Geographic stuff. We walked down some VERY dodgy stairs to get to them.. the first were concrete, the largest.. leading to a beautiful large cave all with Stalictite (spelling? my crappy St Joes Science just taught me the name) decor. The water is AMAZING shades of blue.. will look up a photo to try and post from the internet. The second and third had other unmarked holes on the surface, where someone could accidentally plummet to their death. We swam in all 3, but it was always hard to get back up once in the water because the wooden made ladders were all broken (one missing about 8 planks.. only having one at the top). To get into the third cenote we had to take a vertical ladder for every slippery, mossy, branch step. It was a terrifying 31... felt like 100. They werent in line, some fixed on with crappy wire. But we made it down, and it was stunning. Those deadly holes provided beautiful light.. it really can{t be described unfortunately!

On the way back the leader man charged us double what he originally quoted, which pissed us off, but hey - third world sign. On returning home we had a meal, me again with Meal of the day which again was glorious... Paudric got a food point for having Fajitas (although hasn{t earnt one in a while because he has only ordered Fajitas ever since) and Roisin got minus one for ordering the caeser salad for the second night in a row. She doesn{t understand why Mexicans put Avacado on everything. I don{t understand why she doesn{t always want Mexican food.. what will I do in NZ.. all I can think of good there right now is Haven Road fish and chips, NZ dairy products, bbq kettles, cookie times and my mums baking... next bus I take will be one way to Obesityville.

Anyways, we headed for a bus to Valladolid, a random town that most tourists do not hit, but we did to get close to the new 7th wonder of the world (meaning not in the original 7.. only recently this happened... unfortunately meaning you can not walk up any of it.. which is actually good now with the 1000s of daily visitors. Our bus to Valladolid was hilARious. We took a 2nd class this time (1st class usually equals tourist with tv etc.. although vaires state to state) because it was to be half the price and was only a few hours.
We were assigned seats but I mentioned to my Irish parents that there were definatly more people getting on than there were seats (we were at the back of the line.. the only with luggage).
Sure enough, we found ourselves standing right beside the door, which turned into us sitting on the steps. Until the first stop, where they let on about 6 new men.. two of which were VERY drunk. Guess which 2 I somehow got sandwiched in between?
One was dropping his hotdog on the elderly man sitting below him( and calling me Tall Gringo aka whitey), the other trying to talk to me although failing to produce words of a Spanish or English nature, so only making elaborate hand gestures - which meant letting go of the railing, which meant falling on the teenage girl below him. The Mexican women around were all unimpressed, snapping at them in fiesty latina Spanish from time to time. It was a big pantomime really.

More people wanted to get on the bus (explanation.. the bus stops every town from Merida to Villadolid... so the peeps were coming home from work or returning after a week of work.. it was 7pm on a Saturday night), but no one was moving back (there was still room for about 15 more). I tried to rouse them by yelling in broken spanish things like *We need more space* and *a lot more people*.. everyone stared at me, most with shocked expressions. I felt on stage.
Most of them felt obliged to move after my performance, but a few who didn}t let the whole team down. There was only space for about 3 more and the others were told to wait an HOUR!

Once I got a seat I talked to a very nice Mexican man, who told me of how he has the best cook in the world as a wife, his twin sons and daughter and how he thought NZ was in Europe and Lord of the Rings was filmed on the computer. I missed some of what he was saying, all in very quick Spanish, but got most jists. It was the first real spanish I had attempted for a while.. my brain has appreciated the break.

The hostel in Valladolid was also a stunner, because of the beautiful outdoors area... with an outdoor kitchen, hammocks, bathrooms, painted yellow and blue and pink. The rooms aren{t much, and found myself cold once more in the night.... dang, we in the hot now! We get a van-bus in the morning, to Chichen Itza.. the man pulled the classic - we are leaving in 15 minutes but didn{t return for another 45... classic Mexicano. He was trying to round up a few more passengers, failed - it is low season, although it didn{t look that way at CI.
Well our student ids got us free entry, once again - this was a real score due to the $18 NZ entry free now it}s all a world wonder and that.
An American (or brit?) bought the land the Mayan ruins are on in 1900 for $75 USD... little did he know what he would find! now it actually felt less like traditional ruins, more like a field with 100s of locals selling goods (saying Nearly free), with a few old stone buildings put there.

There were SO Many people... hoards of tours. People just jump in with them free, as there are about 50 tours all with about 50 people. The irish went off for one... I found myself in the middle od one with Japanese retirees for a while.. stuck with it for the novelty... I was obviously the odd one out but I did, like all of them, have my umbrella raised. One of the ladies kept looking at me with a really serious/disgusted face.. like I had come to take her children away.. or attack her.

The highlight for me was the $5 buffet I had afterwards. Although I went nuts with the green salsa (only one there so thought it was mild.. salsa vedre I thought, aka green salsa) but it shred my mouth apart. I stood up thinking - this is kind of hot, I should invest in a drink - then moved into the cafe to the juice man saying Coke, kind of choking.. he pointed me to another lady.. by the time I reached her tears were streaming down my face. She pointed me to the bar, but I was intercepted by the hostess who saw my urgency but felt the need to ask me what type I wanted [Normal, normal] I squeeked, while trying to control my eyes and now running nose.
That first sip of Coke (not a fan of coke btw, especially their exploits of Mexicans...) was the only good, non Vanilla sip I have ever had.

We caught the bus to where we are now, TULUM. This is a town South of Cancun where the American{s and hotel chains haven{t reached. The long stretch of beach/es is BEAUT.I:FUL. We are at the CARRIBEAN! I was waiting for this moment... and I can confirm, photoshopping does not take place with these kids - this ocean means business. The hostel is CRAP but free bikes so I spent all day biking and stopping every 2 mins to take 100 photos of the same thing. I swam about 5 times too. The water is crystal clear, then light blue, then bright blue further out!
I rode my bike (with Orange fluro vest a la Gary Williams) happily for hours on the highway, then on the road, until I rode into a National park... so then rode for hours in between the clay gravel potholes until I had a 3 km stretch of beach to myself. So the day in the whole... rode bike, photos, swim. Repeat x 10. I now feel I know the Carribean... if the Pacific ever lets me down, I know where to come.

So obviously that wasn´t the whole week.

Great new, I have an apostrophy/ee button.

I am currently very cold, odd - since I am finally out of the cold. But it is only 7am and all the

windows in this place are permanantly open.
The lady is mopping under my feet as I speak. She is warm - knowing to wear her jeans and jacket. But that is okay because TONIGHT....

OFF THE TO CARRIBEAN OCEAN! At last, the time has come.

But sorry, now we are backtracking.

FIRST: Where I left out was San Cristobal.

I arrived on an overnight bus from Oaxaca, this took about 11 hours. We changed hostels and then were off to the market. Solo for veges coz none of us could be ARSED (hanging with the Irish) doing much but eating. We made a pasta and befriended a British lad, Martin, Asian-British .,. which is of course what excited me - never met an Asian-decent person with a semi cockney accent!

That night we had a bonfire... they are supposed to have them everynight at 8pm but they are also supposed to have Salsa on Mondays and Tuesdays and that didn´t happen.

But I had bought marshmallows and Roisin found some kind of meat skewers, we sat enthusiastically by the empty fireplace until about 30 mins after 8 when a girl went up and asked for us.

Because, Child - it was COLD. This place is ABOVE the clouds. It is beaut during the day, but run for a llama when the sun sets.

Interesting fact: LLAMA is one Spanish word that Euros fail to correctly pronounce. In Spanish, double L is a Y. We have succeeded with this rule for Tortillas.

The bonfire was a great success. These 2 middle aged couples (Canadians aye Ma) who are travelling the world on their motorbikes (not all at once though... but they came from Toronto and were in South Mexico 4 days later... IMPRESSIVE) anywho. They had bike NZ (probably in half a day, but the Interislanders speed may have screwed that up) and guess what was their fave city... NELLLSSSOOOOnnn.

They mentioned it before me! Did you know that in the new NZ Lonely Planet they have ranked ABEL TASMAN NAT´L PARK as the top thing in NZ??

I have been spreading this gospel since I got to Uni.. I should´ve got paid for this....

Anyways, they were all ¨I could live there¨ and then I dropped the ´I´m semi-oneofyou, my Ma is Canadian aye´ and they weren´t suprised that a Cancuk was in Nelson. Then they wanted her story and the whole KFC-working-TableTennis-Playing-Illegal-Accountant Father came in to the story. I have always wondered if my reasons for my father being in Bermuda are true... but never wanted to ask for clarity incase I have had the marvellous tale incorrectly in my brain for years.

That night we headed to a crepe place for dinner. Well, they did. Unfortunately, I was called across the road to a place with my FAVE Churros (stick doughnuts) and these were Rellenos aka Filled aka you pick a sauce and they pour it in! Sooo good - and clever. Once I had Choc sauce I also needed icecream so a choc-vanilla sundae with Caramel sauce helped that. All traditional mexican, of course.

The next day we hit up this river in a boat. It is the attraction that Chiapas is known for. It was beautiful because of the huge clifts. But we saw about 100 crocs, some beaut waterfalls and even 2 monkeys. I am starting to love monkeys again after a traumatic chasing in Cambodia.

They dropped us in town so I walked up towards this church on a hill. My Irish friends had tried this walk already, only to be greeted by to little ´´Money for the school¨ Oliver Twists.

They came out 29 pesos short. But i knew better because of them. The boys get you to write your name, then make you pledge an ammount... their English is only ¨Your name¨and ¨Money for the school¨. I rejected them both individually, then on the way down asked if it was for the school - the boy was saying ¨Siiii¨ in this way grown men say it, SO convincingly - he must´ve learnt it from his papa because his face scrunched in a very adult-manner.

Anyways, on the way up I came across a girl I had met at school in Oaxaca, Veronica. This was weird because although travellers (who all take the same route) bump into each other frequently... she had left Oaxaca a week earlier for Mexico city and then Cancun, and I was supposed to be heading off in the opposite direction.

After the one church, I spotted another on the other side of town(it had a GREAT view) on another hill so trekked up their. I walked down a closed off tourist street where almost every shop and international restaurant was run by expats. I was in a 2nd hand book shop, run by an American lady, and she had an oven at the counter - she was baking AMAZING SMELLING Cookies and Brownies... with Icing of course. I stood their staring at her thinking ´´This is actually my dream¨.

The other church was beautiful and had great views again.. .everyone described SC as ¨A pretty little town´´ but the place is HUGE. All these people, up above the clouds.

Unfortunately, either on the bus or the street, me Irish lost their camera. The company of course, was no help with this. I wonder who has it now?

So dinner was a bit of a downer, but we all followed Roisin to a Pizza place, where they were playing Anaconda movie in Spanish. That is one bad movie with some bad graphics.

Next day we rose, had our AMAZING included breakfast (the hostel was 119 a night... about 12 dollars NZ), AMAZING was used because I saw and used a toaster for the first time since I was staying in the OC aka Amanda´s house week one. It was toast, coffee, yogurt, fruit... wow. We got on what was supposed to be a 5 hour bus ride to Palenque. The whole trip was through small villages with about 500 speed bumps (was in the bathroom for a whole run of them, getting tossed around viciously). We wondered why all the villagers were staring like they´d never seen a bus before, when buses to Palenque were frequent. Turns out, they may not have.

The highway was closed, so the 5 hour bus ride was almost 8 hours.. I was urked. But, we did see a lot villages and Mexican life. We passed about 100 schools, most with one room - some with 2. They all had full sized basketball courts. I guess this is where the Mexican basketball teams come from, since everyone else is playing Soccer.

We arrived at Palenque and booked the tour for the next day. The hostel here was SO beautiful... actually, all the hostels have been - they are all sister hostels. I wish I had taken more photos but at this stage my camera was full. It was resort style (without pool unfortunately)... so clean too. We were happy to be back inthe heat, especially after the freezing AC they insist on shooting outof the buses here.

The tour was unique. We had an ass of a driver - a bit of a prick... I could tell from the 1st second. He did not want to be there. We went to the Palenque ruins first, which was beautiful... photos say 1000 words I guess. Our Mexican student IDs got us off the 51 peso fee - although I am sad to not being able to hoard the tickets. But I think my stingyness outways my hoarder tendencies... RA may not agree. Gaz would, traits from him. We are proud tightarses.

The bathrooms were also free - a rarity for Mexico.

I got whistled down by a man for being a badass and walking on this grass. We were up on a building and he was all

The tour guide said we were to meet him back at the cafe at 12. We were SO hungry so practically ran to the ´´cafe´´at about 11:30 (we got to the ruins about 8:30)... only to find 20 tables, a coffee machine and a half filled snack machine.
The thing is, if they put a cafe there - they would RAKE in the money. About 100 people came trhough looking for food in the hour we were there. Yes, hour. One hungry hour.

The tour guide didn´t even come back... another bus driver had to call him for us. We got on the bus (us 3 and 3 turkish guys we met -THE FIRST TO RECOGNISE MY ACCENT!! Turkish Guys!! really), to discover a mexican couple and American trio who had joined the tour... One of the Turkish guys mentioned in a friendly manner to the driver that he was late... the driver didn´t care. I said ¨no one tip him¨ and the american girl hollered ¨I´m with ya sister¨ (on the tour in San Cristobal we had virtually no choice about some tippings...the guy on the boat was like ´Now everyone gives me tips... usually 10 pesos each¨, which everyone was willing to do coz this guy found animals and such... effort was involved. The driver of the bus wanted tips too - only one lady did.. you gotta work for your money! He didn´t say a word...and potentially stole the Irishmens camera).

The American girl was already fuming about the driver... I donñy know what haapened but she was not happy. His driving was NUTS.. he went to pull out infront of a truck with 10 people hanging off the back, but had to swoop back behind after we nearly a corner. Everyone screamed (and swore) and the people on the back of the bus were screaming at him and he didn´t move his eyelids from half way down his eyes. Didn´t apologise... well, as expected the American lady (with fluent spanish) went NUTS... she did a great, rapid speech about how we don´t want to die. The tension became awkward until we got to the next stop, a huge waterfall you can walk around.

We got out and the driver wanted our funds (you have to pay extra money on tours ALL THE time ... for entrance fees and here Zapatista fees for the rebels too), the American lady wanted him to produce tickets, because she knew he would keep the money. We stood their as they raged at each other, then her 2 male friends got involved... I wanted to take some photos of it but didn´t want her rage on me.

We were so hungry, so we broke from the action (but continued to watch it, especially as multiple mexican drivers got involved to try and calm her) in the cafe.

The waterfall was beautiful - only needs about 5 mins, but you walk under/behind it onthe rocks - get sprayed. I was falling everwhere coz I was in my crocs.

Next stop was Agua Azul... a river of the MOST BEAUTIFUL COLOUR,unfortunately the phots just don´t do it justice. There we swam for a few hours until the rain turned us cold.
We got back to the van, all shivering. Our driver was asleep but we had to wait for the mexican couple so we all got fries.
Here I learnt that the film NACHO LIBRE, from the Napolean Dynamite director, was based on a Oaxacan story and filmed in Oaxaca. So that´s the first thing I am going to watch on my way home!

Right now, gotta run - we are going to CHITCHEN ITZA; the most fmous ruins in Mexico.

Apologies for only writing about a few days here.. more will come!

Where to go? Oct 9th?-16?

So,

I do not know If I have mentioned it before, BUT I was going to have an exam in Nov.

After a month in Oaxaca and a day of walking around in a panicked-daze, where I sat on the corner of a highway trying to think for half of it.

But I ended up here. Where is here?

Once again, a bit of explaining to do.. and now I have a certain learn-to-sing tune from Sound Of Music in my head.

On Saturday night I met up with the last time with my Mexican friend, as I was leaving the next day. We got Esquites.. this hot corn and various other ingreds soup... which I am now in love with. I could do with some right now....

I was under the impression that I had to pay about 270 dollars US to take an international spanish test. Last sunday, when I was taking a bus out that night (but I didn´t know where) I went to a internet cafe (well, hotel since in was Sunday... this is a Catholic country) I learned that A- I was supposed to sign up in person in on of the offices in the main city (there were only for das of registration left, and I was heading to one of two small towns). B - The exam is actually 4 hours long... WHHAATTT?

Originally i was urked because i had been in Oaxaca for a month, was finally leaving when I realised I couldçve done this easily weeks ago but now I had to stay another day.

Then I was urked when the 4 hours came back to me.. I wouldn´t say my Spanish can even last me 4 hours.. that is 5 different exams... talking, listening, writing, word recognisation and one other. And, this exam is only taken on 2 days in the entire year. So I was going to take it on

Nov 19th. In little over a month.

Although I wanted to have the ``I can do anything!` mentality, I knew this was impossible...

if I managed to study and learn enough I knew the stress of it all would eat me alive.

So that is why I was sitting on a corner.

Then I couldn´t work something out... the girls who have returned from Spain couldn´t remember jack, so I KNOW they couldn´t have taken this exam.

I went on the internet to try and get more info from my school website. Not a big success.

I emailed my Exchange man who I report to when I am away from school. A big stressed email,

to which the reply was

^Yep, you have to do it. Hope this clears things yup* or something as equally frustrating.

THe good thing was, it was now 6;15pm, I was on the internet for 15 mins and he happened to be online. If he hadn`t been.. I would still be in Oaxaca, significantly poorer and more stressed.

But he added an attachment.. alas, this attachment told me there was another way.

That way is to be tested, in any language, at a school in Adelaide. I think that the DELE, the international spanish exam, was actually higher than the level of the rest... if you go to a Eurocentre, I know the option was lower, because they compare with the DELE on the site.

ANYWAYS,

This exam costs $125 Aus.. so I could fail it and take it again and I am still paying less.
This way too, I can go to the school for a few prep lessons... I don´t feel like I have any help or

proper prep methods here.

Anyways, this option had not be presented to me (see above line email from man), but I am glad within those 15 minutes (while writing a panicked email to my parents.. as you do), it occured to me that the school exam CAN NOTbe the DELE exam. Just to check I emailed back adelaide and he rang the school to check.

I got the reply ``You can take the exam any day in the year....^^

THANK HEAVENS. IT was now 7pm, and I within seconds I decided that I was going to follow me irish lads to San Cristobal on a 9pm bus (a town ABOVE THE CLOUDS... donçt read about those temps in the Lonely PLanet... actually, you would. But I guess I donçt associate Mexico with cold).

I sent an email saying ``not coming ... wap, wap, wap``then just before logging off.. ``Cancel that, see you soon!```

I tossed the money to the attendent and ran home. Then I got my money and ran (full of adrenilin) to town... I was tossing up whether to run for a ticket or run to pack and then just get a ticket when i got there... but after full buses in PV, I wasn´t about to do that.

So I ran to town, bought my ticket (in the end the bus wasnçt half full...) and ran home to pack. This was about 7:30 now and I had furiously gathered my things and showered (something I have come a bit lazy at in oaxaca), and at about 8:10 Iwas standing on the main road flagging a taxi.. I could`ve taken longer if I hadn`t taken the ticket ladies `Get there 30 mins early` advice seriously. I don´t know why I did-- I guess I am waiting for the day when being early in Mexico is required..

Side story: I ran to the theatre last night to catch a 7pm show of Hairspray (YESSSS), only to hgave the curtain raise at 7:45. I could´ve had dinner and showered team!

I was at the station by 8:26 and all happy and excited, but not really believing that this exam that have thought I was taking for the past 2 months, was not necessary.

I managed to sleep on this overnight bus a few times.. I was the only one awake when the driver turned on the lights and announced there was a 30 min break in the middle of no where... and 3.30am!

On Saturday me and the Irish lads had run into a `British girl, who I started talking to because we wanted to know how much she paid for a painting (these guys are around selling them ALL The time... this is the first time I witnessed a`purchasè.

She wasn`t liking Oaxaca... she had just come on the overnight bus from San Cristobal in Chiapas where she said something about it being `the most GLORious place in the world`` and how we MUST stay at this hostel where there is a wizard who lives in the roof and a guitar for singalongs and HUMMINGbirds in the yard. Now it seems clear that she was a mix of over-enthusiastic and crazy.. but that didn´t get us at the time.

Only when i showed up to the hostel where Roisin and Padraic were woken by my voice as I walked in did it hit me. The man pointed me to the room (which was metres away from him... without a proper roof, and the first thing Roisin said was `We are NOT staying here.`
They already had, for a night, which was not the initial plan, but they showed up at the beautiful colonial house they saw on HostelWorld to find in barred up with wood, graffitied and smelling of urine. That was all outside... because there didn´t seem to be a way in.

That´s okay, they thought, we can go to the MARVellous place the Brit spoke so fondly of.

So this is where I fould them now, in a freezing, loud room half painted red and half purple, with a wonky U2 poster on the wall. They couldn´t sleep because two girls were singing french songs outside their room for half the night.

The kitchen was an old, filth-pit but inside we found ``the wizard``. An 60-something american man with huge white hair and a great beard (suprised?) with two Mexican amigos sitting with him, laughing at everything he said.

One he cracked was when I told him I was `studying at the moment` and he said ``Really, coz I thought you were standing there`` and CRACKED up with the same force as a Gary Williams Sneeze before I had even processed his funny.

He told us his South/Central american tales (he seems to have been travelling around, living at hostels for years, but has never worked in any of these countries...) and when we told him about the British girl he was very enthusiastic ``Ohhh yaaaa, It´s great when you hear about little gems. This is the best hostel I have ever stayed at in the whole world``--- this is when

wee realised that everyone has a different definition of what a good hostel is... this one cost $60.00 pesos.. about $6... most in Mex are $120.

When we saw him later on in TOwn he was in a huge Mexican jersey that they sell at the markets, had cut off, tight jean shorts only going mid-thigh, with sandals made from Rope.

He was luging his guitar with him and carrying a snack.

``What have you been up to?`` I asked. His reply ``Just eating some bread and cheese``.

Awkward pause. ``Is it good?``

``YAAA you should get some.. (then gave vauge directions to the bread shop and cheese shop).. Is it two blocks? it might be three....`` his directions were wrong. we didn´t want his amazing snack, but we did stumble across the the shop. Awkward pause.

``Were you busking??``

Awkward pause.

``NOOO, (capitals showing aggression) I don´t play for money. I just play to be free``- I don´t know how we weren´t laughing, but I was a mixture of happy and disapointed that my brother Guy wasn´t there.. it was good he wasn´t coz he would be in stitches... but at the same time I wish he had met him (who we know only as the wizard).

I´M IN CHIAPAS!

i´VE left Oaxaca, the large state in the South to the right of the green, and am next door in a small town SAN CRISTOBAL up in the hills (above the clouds in the morning.. boy was it cold!) the last few days / week has been quite an adventure so when I have the energy I will update what I recall.

I am here with my Irish friends who I have decided to follow for the next week or so........

I took a 12 hour bus last night (LAST MINUTE) and have tramped around all day. Ex. haust. ed