Children of the Sun

After an overload of natural wonder in the Galapagos there was a longing to get in amongst the ancient history of South America and for this there can be no greater place than the Andes - home of the ancient and once powerful Incan empire. In this mountain chain lies the capital of the Incan lands, Cuzco, and further beyond this beautiful city lies the true archeological gem of the Americas - Machu Picchu.

Cue the music.

Unfortunately, the Spanish conquistadors did a very thorough job destroying most of the Incan ruins in their thirst for gold, a demand for convenient building supplies and in the name of God (but mainly for the gold), which makes the almost completely intact ruins of Machu Picchu something very special to see.

Getting there for the sunrise and before thousands of rabid tour groups swarm the city is a logistical challenge, but absolutely worth every effort. At the dawn in this otherwordly city, the clouds swirl and twist around you, allowing brief sunbeams to pierce through and bring sections of the city to life one at a time. From the lookout further atop Mount Machu Picchu you can very clearly see the condor-shape of the city with the main temple as the head. Incans were big on designing their cities based on animal shapes and the head of the animal design normally incorporated pretty darned cool astronomical features.

Machu Picchu is one of the seven wonders of the world for good reason; it's amazingly preserved, perched atop a stunning cliff and surrounded by a sublime 360 degree view of jungled Andean mountains. Everyone wants to see Machu Picchu and it is easy to understand why; it's absolutely astounding and truly unique.

Cuzco, the gateway to Machu Picchu is also worthy of praise in its own right. This city is a beautiful collection of Spanish style colonial buildings and cathedrals, intersected by dangerously well-polished cobblestone streets radiating out from a central plaza. In this centre sits a beautiful fountain surrounded by manicured gardens not normally found in this neck of the woods and lush grass protected by dedicated and armed garden police. From this square European style spires and domes dominate the old town skyline, however to see the true original identity of the city you need to lower your gaze. At the foundations of each city block sit the original Incan walls, made from irregularly shaped stones cut so perfectly as to not need any mortar between them. It's the blend of two different antiquities that makes this city so interesting and notably worthy of its World Heritage status.

Beyond Cuzco and Machu Picchu lies the Sacred Valley, in which sits a plethora of other amazing Incan sites. The whole area lends itself very well to setting up camp in a small town and just wandering into the hills to see what you can find. There are numerous goat trails winding up the side of imposing mountains and many of them lead to the remains of partial Incan ruins. Hiking up to these kinds of structures requires traversing some fairly dubious terrain with the odd instant death ledge, but they are most fantastic to explore and help you gain a real sense of the history here.

Point to point travel around most of these parts is by collectivo, which is normally a circa-1980's mini-van that has no real schedule - it only leaves when it is full. The price you pay is more or less dependent on who needs who more. If you are first on board you pay full price but as the driver starts seeking to fill the last few seats the price drops quickly. For a good price you can therefore play the game and wait, aiming to get in last. For an even better price you can negotiate with the driver as the car starts moving and hop in as it moves past like a stunt man.

Collectivo drivers seem to be strangely cheerful and, like most of the population here, seem to be big on only three types of music in their vehicles: western 80's hits (especially those of Dire Straits, Sting and Madonna); Andean pop music, which consists of random people yelling "arriba!" and "vamos!" at each other over an annoying and unpredictable assortment of beeps and whistles; and finally a nigh endless collection of Peruvian pan pipe music, often covering western hits. You've not experienced Abba until you have heard the pan pipe version.

In the Andes, most roads naturally follow the valleys as much as possible but sooner or later the roads must go over the top of a mountain. When they do, such roads are barely carved into the side of ludicrous precipices and are in a perpetual state of roadworks due to daily landslides. Furthermore, these roads are typically only 1.95 car-widths wide, making for endless awkward passing manoeuvres when two vehicles meet. It is not uncommon to see traffic completely grind to a halt so two trucks can slide past one another with only an inch to spare, dislodging a few chunks of the outer road edge in the process. It's quite entertaining to watch for everyone except those in the vehicles in question whose thoughts are undoubtedly turning to the meaning of life and death.

The traditional descendants of the Incans, the so called 'Quechuan' peoples, now live in small remote communities in these mountains and lead a very different way of life from those of suburbia. They live in quite basic mud brick homes with minimal amenities. The women and children are easily identifiable by their very brightly coloured, traditional hand woven clothes. Pockets in clothes are universally shunned so the women will normally always be sporting a traditional hat with a bowl shape in the top used to carry valuables. On occasion you will see the odd bola hat instead of the normal hat. These were apparently made popular by British railway labourers. Sometimes tradition can be forgoed if a hat is quite dapper.

Regardless of the fact that the Andes are covered in snow in winter and generally cold most of the year round, the Quechua women and children seem quite content with walking around in sandals made from old tyres. How the hell they do not get frostbite in their feet is a legitimate mystery. Perhaps the most hilarious thing is that they knit little shoes for their chickens and other livestock that look quite warm. But not for themselves. Nope, Yokohama sandals all the way.

The Quechua men however seem to have more or less abandoned all pretenses of clothing tradition and normally wear a modern jacket, jeans and (unbelievably) business shoes for their farm work. These people speak indigenous languages and normally only the men will speak enough Spanish to be able to trade their goods with those in the city.

In the Sacred Valley towns there are many markets pedalling Incan wares and trinkets. Although most indigenous folk say they are Catholic, pre-Christian beliefs still weigh in pretty heavily here and there are numerous Harry Potter style witchcraft markets where all sorts of items can be purchased for tributes to old gods. Tributes are often comprised of candy, fruit, tea, soap, US dollar notes, small toys, stone idols, beads and the odd dessicated baby Llama.

Making such offerings helps boost luck, success and happiness for longer periods, but on a day to day basis it is normally enough to tip some of your food and drink on the ground to give something back to Pachamama, who symbolises the Earth; the place from which we all come and return to.

At these markets you can also acquire a range of beautifully made clothes at reasonable prices. Baby Alpaca is the thread of choice for the nicer garments as it is incredibly soft and very, very warm. The use of this thread is usually reinforced by weaving numerous Alpaca patterns into the clothes just to make it clear what it is made of. The number of tourists wearing outrageously bad animal patterned clothes is legendary here.

More expensive clothing is weaved from Vicunya hair. Vicunyas are a more rare type of mountain animal that cannot be held captive by law. To get this hair, a small army of people must find a Vicunya, form a circle around it over a large distance and then gradually close the circle around the Vicunya. When the circle is small enough, they will jump on the Vicunya, shear it and then let it run away. The whole process is long, difficult and sounds quite traumatising for the Vicunya.

The temptation to buy so many cool clothes is great, but tempered by the fact that this entire region has a ludicrous shortage of small change for day to day business. If something costs three pesos/soles/dollars for example and you hand over a ten, you are often greeted with looks of glum confusion from the shop assistant. There will be some desperate pleas for the correct money at which point you imply that if they don't have change then you can't buy it. They will usually raid the coffers of any friends or family close by. If no one else is available they will then join the crowd of other shopkeepers going from shop to shop around them until they can get some change.

Food-wise, potatoes weigh in heavily in local cuisine here. There is probably more varieties of potato in these parts than all other types of food combined and pretty much every meal will come with come with some spuds for good measure. Many meals will also come with rice and bread too, completing the triumverate of carbohydrate overload. If it wasn't for the fact you are generally climbing mountains and walking everyday it would be very easy to stack the kilograms on.

Wait, what? "Rice" you say? What about the Andean superfood Quinoa? Ahh, this once was a staple but now it is an oddly inaccessible and controversial one for local people here now. People in foreign countries are prepared to pay rather silly prices for Quinoa and consequently local people would rather sell it than eat it. Unfortunately, Quinoa was a significant and important part of their diet and, for the majority of the indigenous people, their only source of protein. Instead it has been substituted with the aforementioned white rice which is truly a terrible swap out. As a result of this, the majority of low to middle class children are now malnourished and not developing properly here. It's an innocuous but devastating change to their way of life and certainly worth thinking about the next time you pay big money for this new and fantastic superfood. It's only super for some.

Carbs aside, the true delicacy of this region is Guinea Pig. For thousands of years these little critters have been a firm and furry favourite of the Incan lands and still are to this day. Guinea Pigs, or Cuy as they are known here, are normally kept in kitchens as little vacuum cleaners. They hop around, munching on whatever little morsels drop down as well as some bits of grass. At some point in the year, the fattest looking one (who for this exercise we shall name 'Fluffy'), will be picked up and thrown in the pot as newer model vacuum cleaners arrive. Cuy is normally only eaten for special events by the locals but is served up regularly to intrepid tourists in restaurants called Cuyerias. These often have pictures of Guinea Pigs on their sign, normally wearing little chef hats or other cute but disturbing ceremonial death costumes. As guilt-ridden as it is to try one, I have to say Cuy is quite delicious actually, similar to duck and rabbit, and not a particularly challenging meal compared to most of the things you can eat in China. The presentation of the Cuy fresh from the oven, with a habanero in it's mouth and half a tomato for a hat might put a few folk off but I like to think it's how Fluffy would have wanted it.

Perhaps the most pervasive and ubiquitous snack food here is corn. It's grown everywhere and it's used in a massive variety of ways. It is ground up for the bread, mashed up for cakes, fried whole on the side of the street, boiled then chilled and served with chocolate, plucked and fried with salt, turned into pop-corn, blended and turned into sauce and even brewed into the local alcoholic drop of choice - Chicha. They have beer here too, but Chicha seems to be far more popular and traditional. The traditional Incan bottles for pouring it are pretty darned cool too, they are normally in the shape of animals like birds and monkeys and make appropriate chirping or hooting squeaks as you pour liquid out of them. It's corny, but that's the point.

For non-alcoholic drinks, lemonade is pretty big here and it is the norm for it to be proper, homemade lemonade instead of the ultra-sweet soft drink the rest of the world knows. It's super refreshing and usually super cheap which is a nice thing. They also prefer the local Inca Cola instead of Coca Cola here too, even though Inca Cola tastes nothing like a cola should, it is more like creaming soda.

As you might know if you are a fan of coffee, this area of the world produces a lot of it and if you are an aficionado it seems like it would be a wonderful place to visit for that express purpose. But seemingly, despite this abundance of raw product, finding a cafe with a decent barrista is extremely difficult and frustrating. It seems almost criminal that somewhere so blessed with fresh coffee beans should have such sub-standard coffee so proliferate.

Another odd thing about food service, or any service in general here, is that just because something is free or included, it doesn't mean you will automatically get it. You will probably have to ask. Even then, just because you have asked for something, that doesn't mean they will go through with it. Sure you will receive plenty of "Si's" and understanding nods, but afterwards follows a weird silence and absence of any action that would result in the desired item or service being delivered. Asking if an establishment "has" napkins is treated as an inventory check on your behalf, they will confirm the presence of napkins but won't assume the reason you are asking is that you are interested in using one. It's a bizarre and common aspect of travelling here, perhaps a result of gaining tourism without even trying. It's the Paris school of tourism appreciation.

The north west of South America is certainly not well to do. There is some harsh poverty here and many legitimate doubts that the quite substantial fees for visiting the big ticket items isn't really being channelled to the people, but more to the kleptocracies that be. Those on organised tours will never see the plight of the indigenous nor the general crappiness of the shanty towns off the tourist path so I can only suggest that should you come to visit the remains of the Incas, take the time to visit the unvisited, buy some street food off a struggling vendor, eat at a small hole in the wall a few times, hire a local guide if you need one and spend your money on people that really need and appreciate it. There are fantastic things to see here and it would be nice to see tourism become a very positive thing for the people in this much visited part of the continent, rather than some mysterious process they see no real benefits from.

Actually, that logic can be applied to any part of the developing world that houses a wonder of the world; Mexico, Jordan, Egypt etc. It's a shame for the people that live there to see such wealth pass them by and detest their homes being on that haughty list.

Boobies!

No, for once it's not just an immature, attention-grabbing headline, there are literally boobies everywhere here and you can talk about them quite freely and whimsically with those around you. When I say here, I mean the Galapagos Islands: the undisputed capital of booby birds, amongst a myriad of other amazing animalia.

There are few words to describe the feeling of finally seeing this wondrous little archipelago sitting off the South American west coast. The very word Galapagos is in everyone's vocabulary due to endless documentaries, yet this strange place for most of us always seems too distant or exotic or expensive a place to ever venture to. Certainly, it is all of those things, but there is no substitution for it on Earth. This is the naturalist's nirvana, the holy grail of animal curiosities, a circus of the eccentricities of natural selection; the birthplace of Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution.

The Galapagos Islands have been thrust up from the abyssal depths of the Pacific over a tectonic hot spot. Like clouds trailing from a mountain peak, the islands formed from volcanic activity in the west of the chain and as they gradually slide eastwards towards the Andes they begin to erode and sink in the sea. Each island has one of many names depending on who thinks they saw it first and each offers a different state of fertility and nutrients for supporting life. As a result the fauna and flora at each island have evolved in many strange ways to suit the conditions.

Perhaps most importantly, and certainly most interestingly from a tourist point-of-view, the wildlife here has essentially developed without significant human interaction or, as is the case for many species, any form of predators whatsoever either. It is fair to say that, barring domesticated and captive animals, Galapagos is home to the largest variety of animals that will not run away from you.

In fact it is almost hilarious seeing sea lions sleeping on boats in the harbours and lazing around on the streets of the townships. They don't bother anyone and people just walk by within a foot of them. It's a bizarre and almost unbelievable state of social symbiosis. The marine iguanas are even more comical, they emerge from the sea to bask in the sun on every footpath by the water. Here they lie, spread-legged, eyes closed with a sage-like expression, snorting the odd bit of salt from their noses as tourists are forced to tippy toe around them. Humans may have built the few towns in Galapagos, but the animals most certainly have blended in rather well.

Further in land you can see brightly coloured land iguanas and probably the most iconic of Galapagos creature: the giant Galapagos tortoises. These massive things waddle haphazardly in the highland cloud forests, chewing grass and blocking roads. They stare at you quizzically as you walk by and then continue with their non-stop buffet. They really don't have the slightest care about anything in the world.

This innocent and pure interaction extends beneath the waves where creatures of the depths will happily swim right alongside you looking at you in a sense of child-like puzzlement. Sea turtles will glide with you, chowing on sea grass; penguins will bob and dive and swirl around you; sea lions will swim right at you and perform a last minute right angle turn followed by a series of spins and rolls. The sea lions are absolute attention seekers and easily the most curious and playful of all, they will reciprocate your turns and twists in the water and derive immense satisfaction from bursting through any bubbles you form. There actually seems to be a genuine sadness on their part when you leave; their little heads will poke above the water watching you depart. We must be very strange and funny looking sea lions to them and wholesomely entertaining.

The sea lions' curiosity somewhat hilariously makes them a threat to some other animals. They will sometimes hold a marine iguana in their mouth and play with it underwater and watch it swim around, unaware of the fact that lizards need to breathe too, drowning them accidentally.

Enough about sea lions though, let's talk about boobies some more as it really is so liberating to finally have some poetic license to throw this word around without being overly crass. There are three types of boobies on Galapagos; the blue-footed, red-footed and Nazca. All of them are extremely adept at fishing by diving and watching them plummet from above into the ocean in big groups is a true spectacle.

However, the mating ritual of the blue-footed booby is what really stands them apart from their fellow boobies. In such a ritual the male and the female will perform a strange back and forth dance with one another for an indeterminate amount of time, if the female is happy with the male's dance move repertoire he will then be tasked with the responsibility of finding for her the perfect rock. Not just any rock will do. She knows what she wants and when the male brings back a rock and places it on her foot she will assess the rock for some minutes; judging its size, weight, colour striations and overall 'rock-ness'. If she likes it, she will place the rock where the nest should be made. If the rock isn't up to scratch, she will kick it to the curb. The male will then have to find another new rock and try again. As you walk around the boobies you will see many a frustrated male analysing rocks on the ground.

Draw parallels to diamond rings and modern love as you will.

It is entirely possible to just visit the Galapagos and see some of it through a number of day trips, but the best way to see more of the harder to get to islands is via an extended multiple day cruise. We're not talking luxury liner here though so you can abandon any misconceptions of luxury. The 'Guantanamera', slowest ship of the seven seas, was the humble host of our fourteen strong group of adventurous souls. All aboard had made the conscious, though largely budget driven, decision to brave these wild seas in one of the smallest boats plying these waters to see the farthest reaches of this wonderland. Maybe some amongst you are hardy sailors with years of watery journeys under your salty caps, but for those of you who aren't, this is what it's like aboard a little boat for many days in exposed waters...

Firstly, you can forget about meaningful REM sleep. You will feel every wave as the boat bottoms out over each crest and listen to every creak and groan of the boat structure for early warning signs of collapse. Some folk had sleeping pills which seemed to work, although they still had tales of loose objects falling on them and waking them. If it isn't strapped down, it ain't stayin' where you put it.

Secondly, get used to walking like a 3am drunk. There is no such thing as a sure foot fall. You will be stumbling, clambering, grasping for purchase points as you navigate around the boat. Inevitably you end up moving in small running motions timed with each wave, turning the boat into a bit of a dance spectacular. You'll find a 45 degree angle lean against the wall to be mandatory. Strangely, once your sea legs kick in, you'll suddenly find yourself at one with the motions and instead you will walk like a zombie on land.

Thirdly, showering is slppin' slidin' watery voyage! All you can do is wedge one foot into one corner, the other into another and plant one hand against a wall Spiderman style, leaving you with one hand to do all the work. This is only made more exciting by the fact the shower is little more than a dribble that bends and weaves in every direction gravity demands of it. And don't even start me on the dangers of urinating while standing as a man. Just don't do it. Ever.

Lastly, get used to being permanently damp. Moisture is your friend to the end and everything you wear and own will be forever slimy and weird to the touch. Dryness is for the landlubbers!

It's certainly not all doom and gloom however.

On the open ocean, straddling the equator, you are treated to possibly the most amazing views of the stars imaginable. The Milky Way unveils itself before you in a level of detail you can only see to believe. Conveniently one of our group was an astrophysicist too, which made for fantastic night time astronomy classes.

At this time of year (September/October), the waters are fed by an Antarctic 'Humbolt' current which, besides from making the water mind-numbingly cold, brings a nutrient rich stream of plankton and other goodies to the islands. This means there are fish everywhere and in the rare still moments of safe harbour of a night you can see the microscopic ocean life light up the ocean with phosphorescence. Magical seems too common a word to describe it, but magical it most definitely is.

Of a day time, when not hiking or splashing about with animals in the water, you can relax on the deck and enjoy the sight of little Galapagos islands meandering by as magnificent frigate birds soar overhead. Sea lions and dolphins also interact with the boats and we were extremely fortunate to see some killer whales which is obviously a rare thing when the captain leaves the bridge to take a photo. Although we all began wondering who was driving ...

Whilst the food on the boats is generally quite good and varied by virtue of being included in the scary price tag, food on the islands at the ports is a decidedly touristic affair with depressingly expensive pizza and hamburger joints scattered around liberally. It can certainly be hard to keep to a budget here when everyone more-or-less assumes you must be loaded to be here in the first place and virtually all food has to be flown in. This makes the Galapagos Islands one of the few places where an onion will cost more than a Mars bar. It's all a question of shelf life.

There is one type of food here though which seems to be in plentiful supply and is uncharacteristically cheap: seafood. Here you can eat yourself a massive lobster at a ludicrous price, or knock down an absolutely delicious seafood soup for next to nothing. If you don't like fish, or any place that smells remotely fishy, Galapagos could be hell. But if you do, welcome to heaven.

Galapagos is most probably a once in a lifetime trip. It's a natural paradise, beautiful to behold and arguably the safest place in all of South America. It's where Darwin formed an idea in his mind that would radically alter our perspective on the creation of life. It's a place where you can wear a t-shirt that says "I love boobies" and not be shunned as uncultured swine.

For all of these reasons Galapagos is a special place to be protected and nurtured forever more.

Guat Next

Immediately below Mexico, lost in a soup of clouds, jungle and mountains, sits a little known country called Guatemala, the next stop on the all American voyage. Guatemala is small place and it was only a short stay, but this little land of adventure packed a lot of punch in only a week.

The first thing you notice upon entering is that Guatemala is green. Very, very green. Grass grows anywhere and everywhere and there is moss growing on little trees that sprout out of bigger trees that are themselves growing on big trees. All of this is due to the fact that this land only seems to have two weather conditions, intense rain or intense sun. This is the northern frontier of proper Central American jungles and due to the undulating terrain, most of it is inaccessible to humans.

Guatemala is a landscape shaped by disaster and upheaval. It is constantly bombarded by hurricanes and stormy weather, earthquakes are common and it is peppered with active volcanoes. When the Spanish first arrived here and established a capital city, it was more or less destroyed by all of the above in fairly rapid succession. What is left of that city is now called Antigua and even though it is largely in ruins it is an amazing place. The Spaniards moved the capital to a new location, which still has some issues. At this point the Spanish pretty much decided Guatemala was a giant time bomb and moved onto bigger and better (read: safer) things.

The people here are remarkably upbeat considering the impending disaster potential of their home. Ask any of them if they worry about the volcanoes venting massive clouds of ash and dust every ten to twenty minutes and their response is typically along the lines of "No, we don't worry about that. We worry when the volcanoes STOP making the little explosions". I guess that makes sense, but it's hardly comforting.

As is the case with most developing countries, you are completely free to perform dangerous activities with little or no regulation. Which means you are able to climb any volcano here regardless of the risk. There's no need to sign a disclaimer, no one really cares too much if you die. You just get up there, cook some marshmallows in the lava (or chorizo if you are a well prepared Australian) and hope the soles of your shoes don't melt too badly. Oddly enough though, the greatest dangers you face are not really from nature. You are far more likely to be robbed and killed by machete wielding farmer folk en route than you are to encounter volcanic calamity. Guatemala is not the safest place in the world.

Perhaps in direct response to the environmental reality of their land, Guatemalan houses and buildings are either extremely temporary-looking or built to withstand anything. Amusingly, since taxes are levied only on completed buildings, no one actually finishes building their homes here, which leads to a spectacularly ramshackle city views. Can a loophole still be called a loophole if everyone in the entire country does it? Surely then it is called 'industry best practice'.

Guatemala is very economical compared to Mexico and shops proudly throw powerful English sales pitches around such as "we have best prices in the entire world", "you should only buy from us" and "almost free". Naturally however, with reduced prices comes an inevitable reduced quality in every aspect of life. Electricity pops in and out, hot water is a rare and precious thing, internet access is woeful and public transport is really something else. Guatemala's people are moved around to and fro by what are affectionately known as 'chicken buses'. If you ever wondered where yellow school buses from the USA go to die, think no further. These buses are snapped up by Guatemala, given a suitably over the top paint job, bestowed with foreign names that destroy any illusion of safety such as 'Thriller', 'Speed' or 'Batmobile' and kicked back into service for eternity until they explode. The name 'chicken bus' doesn't reflect what you are for not riding one, it simply comes from the fact that animals are allowed on the buses and in a country that loves their poultry super fresh that means only one thing: chickens. It's comical and normal to see folk jump off the bus with a little explosion of feathers behind them.

Whilst all of this sounds crazy and fun, these buses also represent yet again another excellent opportunity for all your stuff to be stolen from you. It's just the way things are here; there's guards with shotguns in many shops and bars on every window for a reason I guess.

Guatemala and Mexico (and probably more countries) celebrate their independence from Spanish rule at the same time. Being there for this event, the biggest of the year, was quite a spectacle. It's really only meant to be one day, but in practice the celebrations seem to carry on for about three. During this time all children are automatically supplied with whistles and told to make as much noise as they want until they feint, every car turns its stereo to eleven, people let off fireworks at any place and any time and sleep is largely forgotten about.

In addition, hordes of marching bands descend on the town squares of major cities and then proceed to try and outplay one another. The resulting cacophony sounds like thunder. The only way to hear each band is to get right up next to them so you can't hear the five other bands within an earshot. The marching bands pride themselves on their dance moves too, regardless of the impact on sound quality or rhythm.

During all of this chaos, groups of energetic young people come from the smaller towns around the big cities with a small torch. This torch is lit in the main square of the larger cities and then taken back to their home villages while being passed around like a relay baton. It is customary apparently for runners to wear head bands, crazy clothes and fancy dress. One runner was wearing a full body gorilla suit. When such a torch relay squad runs past, everyone cheers and toots horns while the group cheers back. Apparently that torch will then be used to light the torch in the square of the village, which will then be used to light more villages. The whole process symbolises the fire of freedom spreading and is quite cool to see.

Guatemala, even considering its proximity to Mexico, actually does things quite differently when it comes to food. The colder mountain climate means hearty stews and broths are more common, including the traditional Caldo del Pato (cow hoof soup) which I must say is a real test of will to munch on. They also put a lot more effort into Chilli Rellenos (stuffed chillis), loading them up with a whole host of very finely chopped vegetables and meat as opposed to just cheese as Mexico does.

A popular candy in both Mexico and Guatemala is mango slices covered from tip to tip in salt and chilli. Eating one is possibly one of the most intense, taste bud raping culinary experiences one could have. You  an normally see a foreigner trying it by their facial contortions. Strangely, after you've eaten a piece and the fallout in your mouth settles, you want another. It's comestible mashochism at it's finest.

However, when it comes to real dessert, chocolate is where Guatemala is in a league of its own. The chocolate from these parts is absolutely incredible. Sure, the Swiss and Belgian chocolate makers take the top 10% of the cacao yield for themselves, but what is left is still exquisite and so dangerously affordable. It is heaven for chocaholics, a crazy, volcanic, chocolate heaven.

To conclude I'd like to take a moment to note that while Spanish is not a terribly difficult language to learn when coming from an English background compared to say Japanese, the speed at which native Spanish speakers talk has to set some sort of syllables per second record for languages. Reading it is fairly understandable, speaking it is a bit harder, understanding the last sentence that was spewed forth in under one second is just ridiculous. As far as I know, the only person who speaks English that fast is Vicky Pollard from Little Britain.

And just when you think you are getting the hang of it, you hear the "fine print" terms and conditions at the end of an advertisement in Spanish and realise you will never, ever, ever understand any of what was just said. Ever.

Guatemala is a wild place, I don't think there is such a thing as easy travel here and don't bring anything you are not prepared to have pilfered. But if you look past the dangerous facade, it really is an amazing little chunk of land that becomes strangely addictive to stay in if you don't mind a taste of chaos.

Tacos

Mexican food is a long time people's favourite in Australia and lofty standards had already been set by Montezuma's Mexican restaurant in Burleigh Heads on the Gold Coast. Even with such unfair culinary expectations placed on it, Mexico largely delivered with only a few exceptions. A country where tacos, quesadillas, burritos and enchiladas are readily available at pretty much every hole-in-the-wall eatery can't go too wrong really can it? Certainly in this author's eyes, Mexican food joins German food smack bang at the top of the ladder when it comes to tranquilisingly good comfort food.

Fish and prawn/shrimp tacos reign supreme along the coastlines and any opportunity to devour a few should always be taken. Small road side taquerias serve them up at unbeatable prices and the aromas emanated usually lead to ordering more than you can realistically eat. Traditional Mexican tortillas are always served hot and soft, not hard, and in restaurants they come in a little basket beside the fillings, tucked away nicely in a little brightly coloured cloth bed. Normally you are given far more tortillas than you will ever need and a range of condiments are always supplied from devilishly hot sauces to fiendishly hot sauces and a mountain of guacamole or avocados.

Sometimes the tortillas are made a bit thicker and hollowed out like a Middle Eastern pita bread. These are called gorditas and they are little portable bundles of awesome, typically being filled with a wide variety of grilled meats, peppers, spring onions, refried beans, cheeses, sour cream, salsas and spices. They are slapped together in front of you and are best eaten hot, next to the stand where the cook can enjoy your facial expressions as you go to a happy place.

In the east they make mean ceviches, which normally include some fresh raw fish that is 'cooked' in cold lime juice, tomatoes and onion. The ingredients cure the fish and give it an amazing finish. If it is not fresh however it is possibly the fastest route to food poisoning.

In the north there is an admirable love affair with grilling steak mirroring south USA. Small BBQs are fired up alongside the road in every town where super thin steaks are grilled to perfection and then chopped or shredded for inclusion in a host of wonderful dishes. Sometimes the meat has been marinated in a wonderful Adobo, a special sauce for preserving meat that adds fantastic flavour to the dish. Chickens and whole pigs are often spit roasted en masse from early in the morning for lunch, with piles of onion, peppers and whole jalapenos sitting below to cook in the drippings.

In any sit down meal, there is a 50 50 chance that a huge plate of appetiser nachos are coming your way after you have ordered your meals, which makes judging appropriate meal sizes challenging most of the time. More often than not, the dips and salsas for the nachos come out of the kitchen at a significantly different time to the nachos to further confound you. Sometimes these nachos are amazing, sometimes they are utterly miserable. They are probably the singularly most hit-or-miss food stuff in Mexico with the honorable exception of tamales.

Tamales are small corn cakes traditionally cooked in a leaf although can equally come frozen in a box. They are a real mixed bag; sometimes sweet, sometimes savoury. Sometimes they are covered in sweet sauces, sometimes savoury, sometimes cheese. Sometimes they are accompanied with beans, sometimes fruit, sometimes *insert random foodstuff here*. The combinations of the above can make utterly no sense, it's as if you are potentially ordering a dessert crossed with a main, the result of which is usually a very acquired taste. Each local version of tamales has a ambiguous name that appears in no dictionary, making tamales a true gamble unless you have a local by your side or you speak excellent Spanish.

All in all, Mexico does amazing food.

Unless you're vegetarian, in which case I hope you really like beans and salsa.

Contrary to popular belief, tequila is not the favoured drink of choice by most; Mezcal is what it is all about. Agave based, Mezcal is a beautiful drink that promises lingering satisfaction or headaches with no in between outcome. The correct way to drink it is by 'kissing' the Mezcal while popping the odd pinch of a special salt in your mouth. The salt is mixed with the dessicated remains of the worms that eat the agave plants, as a form of revenge for daring to interfere with Mezcal production. Mezcal, when it is good, is phenomenally good and a universal panacea for all situations. As the proverb goes, "Contra todo mal, Mezcal. Contra todo bien, tambien" which translates as "Against all ills, Mezcal. Against all good fortune, the same".

For those who want something non-alcoholic, horchata is a delicious rice based beverage that is normally available everywhere. It is often cheaper than water so it pays to get used to it.

Most small eateries are a standard husband and wife operation; i.e. the husband (when he is there) says hello to customers, pushes chairs back in and turns the TV up and down whereas the wife does everything else, often whilst taking on the phone or holding an infant. Admittedly, the responsibility for the TV volume is a massive responsibility in a country utterly obsessed with the over-acted Mexican soap operas that seem to consume the majority of their TV channels. People will be glued to the screen watching these while eating.

Mexican people seem to be overly content with life in general. There are a lot of smiles and hearty hellos thrown around, children play everywhere and are always eagre to try some English on you, people work hard to earn their tacos and in a world that is increasingly clean shaven, Mexican men pull off incredible moustaches with aplomb. In addition, and as much as Texans would hate to hear it, they look better in cowboy hats too. How the hell most people are walking around in jeans and long sleeves in desert heat and/or tropical humidity though is beyond comprehension.

Mexico is a very religious Catholic country but with an extremely interesting mixture of much older traditions mixed in. Shamans and ritual healers are still seen as important roles in many communities and indigenous beliefs have influenced the Christian faith in ways the Pope probably doesn't want to understand. There is an eternal battle against witches, which are the leading cause of mysterious bites and blotches you might gain during sleep and other random maladies. The battle is made more difficult by the fact that witches can shape change and appear as animals, whirlwinds, glowing balls and in more recent times, buildings. Mexico even has a self-titled Grand Warlock who used his powers to guide the Mexican team at the football world cup in Brazil. He claimed Mexico's defeat was due to rival warlocks from other countries being too powerful 'on the day'. For all the sporting glamour, most of us were blissfully unaware of the Harry Potter style magical battle occurring behind the scenes of the world cup. One can only assume Australia performed so miserably due to a complete lack of warlocks which should really be our focus for 2018.

Mexican tribal healers are present in almost all communities and markets and they perform a bewildering variety of services including spitting on people to cleanse them and purveying difficult to acquire curios such as enemas with psychoactive drugs, special 'guidance' mushrooms and soaps with powerful effects like 'attracting wealth', 'warding unwanted devils' and 'dominating men'. Chocolate is used extensively in medicine which is something I think we can all personally believe in regardless of scepticism in the other rituals.

An interesting aspect of Mexican belief is the more light-hearted and quirky view of death and what it means. There are death themed skeleton toys, masks and art everywhere and a particularly interesting yearly event is the Day of the Dead where a small tribute is set up in the house with offerings to the deceased in the family. These offerings are normally the favourite things those family members enjoyed in life; if the individual loved beer than a freshly popped brew would be placed at the tribute to welcome and appease the spirit.

Young Mexican men possibly spend more money on their car audio systems than any country in the world. Although the cars themselves are often in dire need of mechanical repair, with panels and bumper bars held on by duct tape, the sound systems are considered mission critical and maintained above all else. The music that comes from these cars is a largely indiscernible mix of brass instruments and overwhelming bass. Normally the vehicle inhabitants are clapping and dancing with their torsos as much as possible within the confines of their seat.

Mexican music is famous, and rightfully so. Street bands are often nothing short of concert worthy; the cornet, guitar, maracas and drums come together to make absolutely amazing melodies that capture the real spirit of Mexico. As a white tourist, flocks of mariachi bands and singers will be drawn to you whether you like it or not. They will sometimes line up to play at your table as if you are an ATM with ears. They are very keen to swap their music and smiles for your pesos and it can be very difficult to tell them to stop, especially after they do stop and then sneakily start smiling and playing again.

Occasionally you will see a violinist in mariachi bands, but from what I could tell they are always horribly out of tune to the rest of the band. Oddly, everyone seems to like this and accept it.

Another important and highly venerated instrument in Mexico is the marimba. You will often find these set up near nicer restaurants playing tunes that have a stark similarity to old arcade video games. I mean, tell me these guys are not playing a song from the original Mario Kart?

http://youtube.com/watch?v=qMWH4_T55CM

Mexico has no shortage of amazing sights to behold and I could bore you senseless detailing all that was experienced but if there was to be one highlight that stands above all others it would be visiting the ruins of the ancient Mayan civilisation. A silent testimony to a sprawling empire that existed for millenia and then imploded spectacularly in on itself. The collapse of the Mayan empire and abandonment of their amazing cities has been a favourite mystery of many since their rediscovery in the last century.

The place that everyone flocks to see is Chitchen Itza. It is big, has been restored with modern stonework and is easily accessible from Cancun where 99% of tourists go in Mexico. But a real glimpse at ancient Maya takes significantly more work and effort. It will most certainly consume days and days of valuable beach time, but the rewards, as you will read below, are so very worth the effort.

The best of Maya still lies buried deep within the remote and nigh impenetrable jungle, surrounded by wild animals and not so official airstrips for special Colombian flights. For hundreds of kilometres the Vegemite Ambassador mobile travelled, no less that sixty of them on a winding, one lane dirt track laden with pot holes, to reach the lost city of Calakmul. Here lies the still beating archaeological heart of the Maya.

Calakmul, or Kaan as it was once known (KAAAAAAN! to Star Trek fans), is a sprawling stone megalopolis that only until very recently lie lost and forgotten in a carpet of green. It once housed over 50,000 people and had rulers with such cool names as "Sky Witness", "Scroll Serpent" and "Ruler Y". After the Mayans fled the city, the jungle almost immediately began reclaiming the remains; smothering them in vines and protecting them from erosion. As seedlings grew the very same forest that once offered protection instead began to wreak slow and unstoppable destruction as the twisting mess of roots and trunks started to tear the city slowly apart - stone by stone.

Now the city and forest have become one, amongst the cries of howler monkeys and bird song; the resulting scene is inexplicably, hauntingly beautiful.

The remaining jungle ruins of city indicate how massive it once was at its peak, rivalling Tikal across the border in Guatemala, with whom Calakmul was locked in a perpetual state of war to decide who was the most splendid of Mayan cities. Several of the major structures that remain here reach up to almost 50 metres high and can still be freely climbed by massive stairs on a vertigo inducing 60 degree incline. Summiting each of them is physically exhausting, it will cause litres of sweat to be taken as a toll by the steamy morass around you, but the view from the top is unrivalled. The forest extends forth to the horizon in every direction, uninterrupted by anything except the other spires of Calakmul. Only there, in the middle of this arboreal ocean, can you appreciate why the Mayan cities lay hidden from the rest of the world for so many centuries. The best part is Calakmul is only the tip of the iceberg; even now, in this modern age of Google maps, more sites are only just being discovered.

I really hope that if you come to Mexico, you make the effort to see this place. THIS is a wonder of the world that is not on any big lists because it will never be able to sustain the attention that would bring. It's unrestored, wild and forgotten and one of the most incredible scenes on the planet.

It's one of many things to love about this country.

Mexico offers so much, it brims with enthusiasm, it's a giant cultural clash with deep history, it has fantastic grub and it's certainly revisitable even after a month spent there. Sure, it's a bit rough around the edges, but as the famous Mexican poet and diplomat Amadeo Nervo once said, "Who loves a lot, forgives a lot.” and it's easy to love Mexico.

Especially the tacos.