Rock out with Bails

OK my peeps apologies for the long duration between posts!  I have been on the run on the road!  I have made my way from Guatemala through Honduras to Nicaragua and into Costa Rica!  Many bus trips, ferries, border crossings and packing and re-packing of the ever-expanding pack.  So I have been moving every 2-3 days so been quite hectic.  However, I am now in Costa Rica, I am with Pete and Schnazza and have my Apple Mac back so no more Spanish speaking laptops and overland border crossings! 

My next little adventure is in Honduras and a Honduran roadblock/protest.  No I didn’t have Phil from The Amazing Race there explaining in detail exactly what I had to do in a certain time like putting together IKEA furniture or looking for a local made mask in 50 massive hay bales. To set the scene in Mexico and Central America all travel is done via bus.  You can get 1st class buses, 2^nd class buses, other private buses, collectivo’s (a local Tarago in which you pay 20 cents but have to pile in with 50 other people into the 8 seater van) or the famous chicken buses.  Chicken buses are the old American yellow school buses.  They are sent down to Mexico and Central America to die and are owned privately and do bus trips for locals and tourists alike.  Some owners take great pride in their buses and do elaborate designs and decorations which mainly have the same consistent theme centred around Jesus Christ.  The other thing to keep in mind is that these buses are old very old and it’s very common to see them broken down on the side of the road or some kind of funky smoke pouring out of them whilst they fly and rattle down the roads t over 100km’s an hour.  These buses stop wherever and whenever someone on the side of the road waves them down.  There is no passenger limit either it is sit wherever you can even if that means on a local’s lap.  Air con is trying to wedge open the 45-year-old window and if you are lucky to get it open it is like getting the emergency exit seat on the plane without the emergency exit!

 At this stage I had joined a group of fellow travellers and we travelled from Guetamala to Costa Rica with a fearless local leader to lead the charge.  We were on a 2^nd class bus headed towards the port of La Ceiba to get on a ferry to go to Roatan Island.  It was a big long day of travel ahead and time was of the essence as the ferry left at 5pm.  We get on the bus at 8am and head off.  At around 10.30am we stop and at first I thought this might of just been a little pit stop for drinks and snacks from the ‘milk bar’ on the side of the road.  After about half an hour there is no movement, the bus driver had turned off the engine and seemed to be having a team bus driver meeting with other bus drivers under the tree.  There seems to be a pile up of some sort, cars, trucks and buses just stopped and not moving and people roaming over the road.  There seems to be some action on the other side of the road in terms of traffic moving but it is mainly chicken buses stopping and then 50 people getting off the bus and then walking in the other direction.  I decide it’s time to get off and stretch my legs.  As I am grabbing a ‘breath of fresh air’ I get talking in my Spanglish to the ticket seller from the bus.  I ask what is going on.  He tells me that there is a protest and that the road is blocked by trucks on both sides of the road and protesters.  It seems the blockade goes for many kilometres and that there is no way any movement will happen any time soon.  I ask what the protest is about and apparently there are several reasons.  One being teachers in Honduras have not been paid for a month by the government and two it is also a protest to do with something to do with Agriculture.  This was all my limited Spanish knowledge could translate.  I am all for protesting for teachers and agriculture but would just like if I can get through to make my connecting ferry.  The leader of our group decides to get moving and networking with the locals and see if there is some way to get to the other side and on a bus of any description.  By this stage I am in dire need of a bathroom.  I am pointed in the direction of a lady on the side of the road and to the door of her house.  I am able to use her bathroom for 25 cents.  I decide this could quite possibly be the best 25 cents I have spent in my whole trip as god knows when or where I may see another toilet that is not the side of the road and then in view of the hundreds of locals protesting.  I am pointed out to what seems to be the backyard.  The lady leads me through her house to the ‘out house.’  She motions for me to push away the chickens running everywhere and points to a wooden door.  I push open the door to be greeted with a sight that I don’t really like to recall.  I enter the door doesn’t shut and the chickens feel the need to come in and join me.  As I try to navigate using the toilet, hold my bag and push chickens away I lose balance.  I fall, freak out, pull myself together, do my business, take a photo (this needed to be documented) and get out of there whilst lathering myself in hand disinfectant.  I then get back to the group and our fearless leader has been able to organise a connecting bus on the other side of the protest line.  A chicken bus takes us about 2km’s and then we have to walk ‘not far’ to the other side of the protest.  On goes my life as in my backpack and myself and 15 other people begin the walk.  Now my backpack is quite heavy by now.  No, I have not been shopping or buying rugs it is still full mainly of my many vast medications and also the ‘shit kit’ still intact thankyou!  It is now 11.30am and it is hot.  No it is not me it is the weather it is 35 degrees and rising.  We begin to walk and as per usual I begin to sweat.  Not like a bikram yoga sweat but a I have just run 25 sprints of 50 metres sweat.  As we walk I notice the truck drivers kicking back in their hammocks underneath the trucks, some very opportunistic locals selling tacos because of course in 35-degree heat with a 60-kilo backpack I want a taco.  We keep walking and by this stage it’s been half an hour.   There are grumblings from the others and grumblings from the onlookers.  Their grumblings are more roars of laughter.  I am sure it is not every day they get 16 Gringo’s power walking with backpacks up the middle of the highway.  After 45 minutes we get to I guess you could call it the picket line.  Before entering the protest zone there were about 20 massive boulder rocks placed across the road and men standing at the boulders with sticks with nails sticking out of the ends.  These nails look to me like they had been put there on purpose.  Then the megaphone is blaring and there are lots of cheers, and lots of Spanish.  What were they saying I have no idea unfortunately my Spanish vocab does not include protest words.  There is a film crew to which I am sure they are filming the gringo’s.  We get about 50 metres past the protest and it is time to regroup and it is time for some people to lose their cool.  After a minor stop and re-group we are assured that it is only about another 5 minutes to go to the bus.  Yep, heard it all before but plus side is we have made it to the other side.  We walk for about another 15 minutes and are greeted by our ‘chicken bus’ to which after having got many chicken buses in the past I did vow never again but never say never.  We get on I sit in the worst possible place above the engine so my thongs could quite possibly melt to my feet but I also don’t really give a shit by this stage I need to get my window open and stick my head out as sweat on your face placed out a window in 40 degree heat is a close to air con as I am going to get.  The bus takes off and then smoke begins to pour out of the area above the tires on big accelerations.  As I inhale and think after the toilet debacle and now this I could come home with god knows what kind of disease I try to remain calm.  The bus is packed with people I think we payed for a priority ticket as in extra cash to actually ensure we got on the bus!  So the wheels on the bus go round and round, smoke pours out and yes my friends I made that connecting ferry.  The ferry ride well that is a whole new story.  So stay tuned I do promise to post again soon as I am now in what I like to call luxury travel mode.  As in I am in Costa Rica, I am with old friends from Australia, we have a hire car (no more buses!) and it is all about beach time on the Caribbean side and then onto the pacific side.  Rest assured I will have a drink for you all and remember keep it real, rock on and thank god for your local public transport options!!

Bailsxx

PS Thankyou to my fellow Aussie friend Peter for lending me his photos!   God knows it would of been a miracle should I have been able to negotiate taking a photo let alone finding my camera whilst walking with my 90kg pack!!  Check out his blog well worth a visit!

http://b1-centralamericacuba.blogspot.com

 

The 5 star view of the protest!

Just chillaxing whilst protesting.

 

The picket line.

Who has seen that fantastic show on National Geographic Adventure Channel ´Banged Up Abroad´? About usually Americans or Poms who get in very sticky situations in South or Central America. Well if you have not go check it out as my next tale had every possibility of becoming one of those stories as well as a story to serve as a warning on smartraveller.com or the Lonley Planet´s next Edition of Central America on a Shoestring! I was packed and all ready to leave Tapachula. I insisted on an early night and called it quits on my last night in town after only 2 Margareita´s. It was sad not only as it was my last night but at City Pub in downtown Tapa they had the world´s worst cover band singing English songs!! As I bid adios to the tone deaf singer I went home, set my alarm for 4.30am to ensure I was at the bus station at 5.30am to get on my 6am bus to Guetamala. I awoke not to the sound of my alarm but when I looked at my watch it was 6.01am. Epic fail Bails! My alarm did not go off - thanks iphone! Missed bus and I was paniced, in hindisght - which you know I love maybe it was a sign! My Spanish Speaking Wonderful friend took me to the bus station spoke Spanish told a fantastic ´story´and I was on the next bus at 12pm. Thank god for a gringo in distress story! My friend drops me off, she explains to the bus station people if they can wave when my bus is boarding as i don´t speak Spanish and to make sure I get on the bus and the right bus. I say goodbye, there were tears and in a shortwhile I get the royal wave and on I go to board. The border is only 20 minutes from Tapachula. I begin to start the psych up preparation for my border crossing. Several friends in Mexico had said it was a dodgy border, I need to be carefull. Other people had said are you sure you are crossing at that particular border etc. I of course shrugged it off with a I will be fine! This border crossing is not the best as it is where all the drug trafficking occurs and I have since been told only people smuggling guns, drugs, money and trying to get over the border illegally go to that one - slight exageration I think. Don´t worry CW I did not fall into any of those categories as I don´t think the shit kit contains illicit drugs! I get to the border so far so good. It´s big and white and lots of federales and army dudes with massive AK47´s. I get off the bus and look at what everyone else is doing and make mental notes of people to follow. I was hoping for a fellow Gringo of any description to follow but alas this was not my day I was solo Gringo! I go to Mexican Immigration and stand in the line. I had noticed everyone left luggage on the bus big and small luggage so armed with my extra special handbag which has wire throughout so you can´t cut it off I wait. I had been told you have to take your bags across the border or when the bus drives through you have to pick up your bags from the other side and put them back on the bus. I risk it and follow the crowd and pray both bags are on the other side. As I am waiting I notice the man who is sitting behind me on the bus is behind me in the line. He looks 100% Mexican with a slight facial twitch. However, in perfect English in an American accent he tells me to have 250 Pesos ready to pay at the window! Relief floods my body like when you have that first amazing coffee from Montague in Crows Nest before work! Someone who speaks English. I say thanks so much and we get speaking he lived in New York for 10 years and is on his way on a huge bus trip to El Salvador to pick up his wife who is flying from the US to El Salvador then they go back to Mexico - ok sounds strange but whatever! The woman in front of me is also going to El Salvador she does not speak English but befriends my friend and they bond over Spanish. We get to the front and wait for it my now new ex friend pushes in front of me and charges ahead to go through. I get to the window pay, hand in my travel visa and then leave. By now my ex friend is no where in sight and I can´t see anyone else from the bus! I get a AK47 pointed in the direction I need to go. You walk over a bridge over a river and then you hit what I like to call no man´s land. Here you are greeted by dodgy people offering money exchange or to take your passprt and help you through immigration. I have been warned about these people they all get a big fat No Gracias and I keep walking. Once I can see the scene in front of me panic begins to slowly set in. I see about 50 shops selling Ralph Lauren, Dolce and Gabana, Guess, Abercrombie and Fitch and many other designer clothes out of makeshift shops this does not cause panic in that for a brief second I wondered if I had time to browse the bargains that have fallen off the back of a truck. I see just as many places selling bloody tacos and food and god knoes what else. I see Federales and Army men running down to the river yelling and screaming. I then think is this a scene from some International Spy Thriller and await to see George Clooney, Matt Damon or Leonardo DiCaprio run out in their kahki outfits or even better George Negus filming a story for Foreign Correspondant. I can´t see for the life of me the Guetamalan Immigration office. However, I see my ex-friend and what seems to be Guetamala Immigration office. It is wedged between Ralph Lauren and Versace and is hard to see due to the people selling street Tacos in front of it. I mean come on it´s 5000 degrees who the fuck wants a Taco! I join the line. I ask my ex-friend where do I find our bus he points and says walk up there through a kind of tunnel. I am about to ask him if he minds waiting for me but he is hijacked by the lady going to El Salvador who has a blonde hair bleach gone bad hair style! They run off and once again I get the feeling i could be well and truly fucked! I get to the window and have to pay in q the Guetemalan curreny 25 to get through. I am confused, sweating, paniced and try to pay with 25 cents as opposed to dollars. Evetnually I find a note hand it over and pary to god it is enough. It is I get change in both q and pesos. The pesos are going to come in really handy now I am in Guetamala. I walk out and see the tunnel. I walk about 200 metres through the masses of men offering god know what I hear money exchange, taxis and other stuff I don´t want to know what it means. Several of the men are following me offering money exchange. More paniced no gracias comes out but I can´t shake them. I get to the tunnel more men, taxi´s and taco´s. There are 2 ways to go I shit myself and decide to go straight. As I walk the 100 metres up through the tunnel I begin to get a trot on. I still can´t see the bus and think please dear god let me get through to the other side. I see light and a hill, more shops and no bus. Everything stops half way up the hill and then nothing. I am shaking, sweating and close to tears. I decide to have a ciggie if this is it I might as well go in style. I am thinking now contingency. I have all my money, cards and passport on me. I have a phone all is ok worst case scenario I don´t find my bus call my friends and say come get me from the border. As I smoke and then walk to try and still shake my followers. I am panicing again I look around where the hell is my bus. I look lost and crazy and that just attracts more attention. I pray for eith George C or George N to come out and help me and then think shit these followers could be wanting to kidnap me or send me off to god knows where. I walk up a bit further and think ok start looking for fellow bus travellers and thank god there is my bus well and truly hidden at the side of a building. I nearly cry in relief! I get to the bus my ex friend asked if I was ok and I was like yeah I´m fine no problems. He said I should of waited for you and I felt like saying a bit too fucking late for that buddy. My heart rate is already racing like I am doing a 100 metre sprint. I get on the bus and then think shit my luggage. I run to the bus driver and say backpack down and point underneath the bus. Another friend told me she nearly forgot to pick up her backpack on the other side and now this is me. As I charade and point to the undereath of the bus he says esta bien as in all ok the bags are there? i don´t know but my ex friend then comes to help and assures me the bags have not been taken off. I have heard it all before and have been told many porky pies in Mexico. I explain I have been told that our bags are taken off he again assures me it is all ok and our bags are there. I surrender and think ok I have essentials and you know what they are welcome to my useless computer in Spanish, shit kit and collection of bonds underwear in my big bag if it has been left behind. Everyone at the bus is now staring at me. I am sweating, hair crazy from humidity and then I just go to my seat, my day pack is there and I try to breathe and think all will be ok. I have at least provided all the people on the bus with some entertainment for the bus trip. This is only in the first hour so no doubt they are probably thinking god knows what she will do in the next 5 hours. What did I do after well nothing I got over my stress of the border, listened to Dave Grohl who really helped me feel better and thought I made it all in one piece with hopefully most of my possessions. I got to Guetamala and all was ok. In hindsight - you know how much I love it - I have told people about this story. Several locals in Gietamala have said to me we are locals and would never cross at that border, you crossed there really? Well I had no other option but I made it and whilst the whole ordeal probably was 15 minutes of my life it is 15 minutes I will not forget. I am also very relieved that now none of my family or friends or myself for that matter have to re-inact this experience for an upcoming episode of Banged Up Abroad! So my peeps keep rocking I am next tale is an encounter with a massive Agricultural related protest in Honduras. Big rock boulders and 10km´s of truck blocking a main highway and the picket line was men with sticks with nails in the end of them and yes there was a TV crew there and no it was not Foreign Correspondant or the ABC! Don´t fret I am well over my border crossing I have since done another one which was not so bad! I have been to some ruins, horse ridden into a remote Honduras village, gone snorkelling and stand up paddle boarding and had some drinks and a meal - of which what i ate will never be discussed again all at Bootys Bar and yes i got a t'shirt! Keep it real - you know I am!! Bailsxx

My time has come to an end at Mision Mexico and it is time to say goodbye to the kids, my new friends and Tapachula.  I can’t believe it has been 3 months.  It sometimes feels like it has gone so quickly or the other extreme.  It has been hardest of times and the best of times to steal a quote.  However, one of the most challenging and rewarding times.  Their have been laughs and tears but as always in hindsight it has been an incredible experience. 

When I first arrived I was trying my best to get on side with the Girl’s in the 11-16 age bracket – you know what their like.  I am asking them about pop, movie and rock stars who they like to try and find some common ground.  Justin ‘bloody’ Bieber was all they cared about and for me I could not care less!  However, they asked if I know Ashton Kutcher how they know him I do not know – I ask twitter but they don’t know what twitter is as it’s all about the face (facebook).  I say “yes I do know him I like his movies and loved his show ‘Punked.’  They take this the wrong way and think I know know Ashton.  I try to explain no not like that.  They then say is he your boyfriend to which I reply um no his wife is the smoking hot Demi Moore don’t think I would quite have an look in there.  They don’t know Demi so I try to tell them about her and the movie ‘Ghost.’  However, they still think I know Ashton and that I love him like they do Justin Bieber.  Don’t get me wrong I am a fan of the Ashton but not in a Justin Bieber I am a young girl who has an extreme obsession kind of way.  My name goes from hey you to hey Ashton.  For the last 3 months all I get from this group of girls is hey Ashton, Ashton or Ashton Kutcher can you come here or I get told to in Spanish get lost Ashton.  Ashton and Demi owe me as they are on the map in Tapachula probably not in the way they would like though! 

The other day I was talking to one of the Ashton girl’s and I was telling her where I was travelling to next and one of the places I mentioned was Honduras. She says to me in such a casual off hand way ‘Hey Ashton if you see my family there say hello for me.’  Then another girl standing there said to me why didn’t I come back afterwards.  I told her I had to go back to Australia to work and see my amiga’s and familia (friends/family).  She says ‘Your Dad’ and I nod and then she asks me if my Dad lives here or up there pointing to the sky and I say he lives down here.  After these two questions back to back the tears are starting to roll.  I thank truly to whoever for the life I have, the opportunities and my family and friends and I also thank whoever for the fact that these kids also have a family here.  It’s different as they have 54 brother’s and sisters but they are safe, they get fed, they go to school and they get more than many others.  I know all of  this coming from the girl who’s favourite line in the movie Beaches no not ‘my memory is long’ but when Bette says ‘Enough talking about me, let’s talk about you what do you think of me?’  Maybe this is what the Dali Lama is talking about when he talks about selflessness?  I then think I will miss this place, as hard as it has been and at times I wanted to pack up and leave it has been fun.  The kids at times have nearly caused me many serious emotional breakdowns but then you have comments like above and the built up angst tends to roll away.  All my 55 nino’s here get used to seeing different volunteers come though all the time.  I know they will not remember me in 2 months and probably cheer me out the door but for once in my life it is not about me it’s about these kids and being able to support the house Mum and Dad and help them help give these kids a chance.  I know I am getting serious but after those 2 comments I was blown away and wanted to share with my peeps out there.  However, as I have not long to go before crossing the first of 5 borders I will miss Tapachula.  I will miss cold showers, nit treatments every couple of weeks, kids swearing at me in Spanish, being stared at every time I walk on the street, sweating from dusk till dawn, sweat running down my back as I try to sleep, wearing the same clothes for like 2 weeks before washing them, the charades with the kitchen ladies, seeing the kids faces when they get a wave in the surf, tortilla’s, the toilets, the mud and dirt encrusted on my feet, the fact that I have worn thongs everyday for the last 3 months, my friends I have made here, going to a Mexican gym for a workout and so much more.  However, ahead awaits another adventure travelling through Central America first stop Guatemala then El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua and then Costa Rica all with very bad Spanish and knowledge of inappropriate phrases such as los manos ariba which may just help get me over a few borders and passport control – don’t you think?  No doubt many more stories to tell so hope you keep rocking on with me into the next adventure.

 

Peace out

Bailsxx

I ended up as I said going back to the fair on many occasions.  It was the only place to be seen in Tapachula for the 2.5 weeks it was going in town.  I thought what better way to give the locals a treat than go with groups of other gringos – we travel in packs for safety reasons.  One night a group of us decided to hit the local nightclub.  The nightclub gets started at around midnight.  Nothing is ever done early in Mexico.  So a large group of us heads out with some locals to help show us how they roll here.  We enter in the gates after paying our 10 pesos’ so $1 compared to the $50 at the Royal Easter Show that is a steal.  We enter and I see it a Brahman Bull with a saddle on it and for 50 pesos’ so $5 you can sit on it and have a photo.  This proves to be a huge opportunity for me and my camera that is too good to refuse.  However, just as we approach I kid you not the bull does a buck pushes the poor Mexican on his ass and does the bolt.  The Brahman bull with saddle on is headed to the car park.  It was the funniest sight I have seen in quite some time it was like the lion escaping at the zoo but a renegade Brahman on the run at the fair.  We decided to quickly move on rapido in case it did a 90 degree turn.  Maybe that was God looking out for me for doing the community service that was the kids educational day!  As mentioned the Fair is sponsored by Corona and has a huge big Corona Tent with beer and merchandise and it also has 3 different nightclub options.  These seem to be quite stable in regards to their make shift buildings if you could call them that. There is a huge arena again if you could call it that where they have bands and singers perform.  Stimulus overload where to go we decide to eat first.  We go to one of the local restaurants in town (which is very good) has an area set up.  It is good and trusted so we eat our body weight in tortilla’s, meat and salsas.  They have 15 different salsa’s on offer.  I being the gringo who loves her chilli makes my way through a taste of each and every one of them.  We leave full and I leave sweating and my mouth burning so what better way to fix that no not rice but Corona.  By this stage it is about 11pm.  The tent is pumping and we enjoy mingling with locals and drinking beer.  I am wearing a new top that I bought and I gather as much as I thought it was flattering it was clearly not after a local asked me if I was expecting!  I was horrified – yes I have eaten too many tortilla’s but Dude I am drinking a beer for god’s sake!  After my humiliation I get over it and we move on to the best of the 3 nightclubs – The Buddah Bar!  It’s about 12.30 and it is also pumping with very very loud music.  We enter and stay on the ground floor level.  We all sit and get given menus.  You can buy beer or spirits.  However, spirits come in the form of a bottle and a container of juice or soft drink.  Since there is quite a few of us it is far more cost efficient to buy a bottle of vodka and a container of grape juice and a container of ice.  I like to think I can dance and that I have rhythm well after this little excursion I do not.  These people cam move and dance in ways I have never seen.  They are born to shake their round bootie’s I am not.  Again it’s spot the gringo try and dance.  I am trying and of course are the others and many people are offering their services of trying to teach us.  They really do like to see you having a go!  We venture upstairs to the real ‘nightclub’ part.  Over the loud speaker from the DJ comes my favourite new Spanish Phrase ‘Los manos ariba’ that is “put your hands up in the air.’  I love it and whip it out whenever I can!  Also so my Spanish friends tell me is a song dedicated to the Australian’s you know the Black Eyed Peas wonderful rendition of the Dirty Dancing song well here it was for the 50^th time that night but dedicated to us.  We dance and a lovely woman tries to teach the Aussie bloke how to salsa whilst pinching his bum.  It is hysterical she them decides to teach his girlfriend and myself minus the bum pinching.  I am trying to salsa except it looks like I am doing more of a lord of The Dance Irish jig than a salsa.  Whilst we people dance watch we notice a lady with a baby in a sling dancing.  She finished and is sitting next to where we are.  With a quick move she whips out the bottle and starts feeding the baby right there in the middle of the heaving club.  I can’t stop staring am gob smacked she doesn’t care though she offers me the baby to hold and feed.  I politely decline but not before I get a photo with the baby’s bottle gestured at my mouth.  After more los manos ariba’s and dancing (don’t worry CW there was no more bottle’s of vodka) we head home.

After that night I did go back a few more times to visit the merchandise part of the Corona tent, the markets of clothes (I got a great dress from the Syria stand) and jewelry and most importantly to go on a ride.  The rides look quite old it is like all the dodgy and past it rides from everywhere around the world are sent to Mexico and alike to not retire but go to the Tapachula Fair.  My friend and I decide on a big, fast, give you whip lash ride.  It looks stable as we get to the top and have a wonderful view over Tapachula I start to ponder whilst waiting for the whip lash to start.  This could end up being one of those stories you read about on smartraveller.com.  As in do not go on rides of any description as one Australian did and ended being flung half way across a remote Mexican town.  It’s ok I survived, no whip lash and most of the adrenalin came from me hoping that the ride would not break or malfunction with me on it.  It was fun!  Then it was time to hit up the arena.  I was in tow with several of the older kids 17 and 18 year olds.  The reason for this visit was the stage appearance of the Mexican equivalent of NSYNC or what I like to think my equivalent of a Mexican New Kids on the Block.  There are kids young and old and women young and old screaming their heads off and crying.  I look to the stage and I am confronted with 5 Mexican men in the tightest white pants on earth doing the most extreme groin gyrations I have ever seen not to mention the continual and incessant grabbing of their crouch.  The clothing of the boys was borderline smart nautical with Mexican Bling. I also wonder if it is part of a Mexican Boy band thing or do they need to check every couple of words that their package is still in tact.  I only wish I could upload the video I took on my camera of this spectacle.  Especially when they invited 20 screaming girls and women up on stage for a dance off.  Ladies dressed to the nines shaking it to a crowd of about 3000 or probably more.  I thank god I was no where near the area where they plucked these people from could you imagine.  These women were into it and they were going for gold.  One lady who I am guessing was in late 40’s early 50’s was grabbing the bums of the boy band members which, was truly a solid gold moment.  The dance off kept going and was getting quite cut throat but my god what a sight the women and the boy band.

Again a very different experience than my last 2 but great fun.  So my peeps should you find yourself in a developing world at a local fair go to the nightclub, go on the rides, eat the food, watch a boy band and rock out with your hands up in the air.

 

Bailsxx

 

 

 

This is how you roll at the Buddah Bar in Mexico at the Fair

 

Check out the tight white ´smart nautical´pants!

 

This could of been the runaway?

Never say never….  After my declaration of all hatred for anything to do with the Feria and taking kids out it seems that someone has or had to go back on their word.  Ok so I went to the Feria several times, more about those in Part 3.  I was on shift and the House Mum and Dad came up to me and said that 16 of our kids who go to the local Mexican Primary School are going on a whole school excursión to the feria during the day for school´s day.  A volunteer needs to go as parents of kids have been asked to help out and due to my teaching experience they asked wether I would do it.  Fear struck my face and I think my expression resembeled something like – you have to be fucking kidding me.  Sorry CW!  I am assured it is a school event, it is during the day, it is contained by massive walls, we get dropped off at 8.30am and picked up at 1pm and there are no rides, stalls or food areas open just the educational exhibits.  I bite my tounge and accept the challenge and think I must be on my way to being in God’s good books.  Off we head, we get out and one of the kids has to translate what the Head Teacher is telling me. It seems I in charge of 12 kids some from the orhpahanage some not.  I have to lead the group through the various special ‘educational’exhibits!  I reiterate my level of Spanish and also the issue that most of the kids do not understand English!  No problema apparently - yeah right.  Armed and loaded with 2 words – vamos which means come on and my stock standard favourite rápido which means quick.  Off we all trot.  You will be happy to know I have the very attractive cross country trekking shoes on, stock standard quick dry shorts, singlet top and hat and dripping in sweat which had begun at 6am.  A quick survey of the other Mums well let me tell you these Mums give those Soccer Mums a run for their Money.  MILF’s and yummy mummy wannabe’s please take note.  My facourite outfit was diamonte studded tight acid wash jeans with a extra tight low cleavage short sleeve shirt, muffin top and wait for it yes I am serious massive cork high heels.  Once again lets play spot the gringo.  We all adjourn in the quasi ampheititure for an introduction.  Over 200 hundred kids, a loudspeaker which does not quite cut the mustard and I have no idea what they were saying.  Also out of the woddwork come the local Mexiacn Carnival Workers some tryig to sell good knows what drink in a plastic bag and other foods etc.  Kids are tucking into these foods covered in cream, sugar and whatever else at 9am.  Me I have my eyes fixed on the Corona tent thinking what time does it open it could be the only thing that gets me through – don´t worry it never opened!!  It´s time we move the kids run I run – thanks to my north face cross trainers i am all over of them this time.  We get to the first exhibit on brushing your teeth, then the importance of filtered wáter, then sewrage disposal, leading into rubbish awreness to the crocodile and turtle exhibit.  This was fun.  Makeshft barricades Mexican style and kids trying to, yes, pat the crocodiles.  I resisted pushing them over the barricade and instead pulled their shirts and saved them from the jaws of potential death.  This ruffelled the feathers of some of the kids i did not know but I was trying to save their lives not rough them up.  Many more vamos and radpido´s later we get out alive and my group is all together and in towI am all over this! It may have been the bribe of a packet of chips for everyone which like the good teacher that i am I never followed through on because they all forgot!  We reach the educational, fun game area.  This is now my break time.  The kids go play god knows what games and one of the teachers offeres me a chair in the boiling hot sun and some fried chicken wings.  I politley decline the fried chicken and also the chair in the sun I gesture to a gutter chair in the shade whilst fanning my face saying mucho color meaning I am really bloody hot can´t you tell from the sweat dripping down my face and my eyes crying from sunscreen dripping in my eyes!  I sit and the kids come out and we have I guess what you could call recess.  One of the little girls from the orphanage who is about 10 years old is sitting on her own and surronded by a bunch of girls and i can spot a group of bitchy 10 year old´s from a mile off.  I feel so bad for her.  I get up, wipe of the sweat and call her name and say vamos it´s time for a special treat and gesture to the shop.  They all stare and gesture can they come too.  Here comes in my favourite new Mexican move.  The wave of your index finger as in no.  I love it I do it everywhere.  It´s like fly fishing in that you only move you finger from the base like fly fishing is all about the wrist movement.  Down with you girls and my special 10 year old comes over and we feast on dortios, coke, fanta and some type of mexican ice cream that has repeated on me every day ever since!  It was worth it to see the smile on the little’s girl’s face and the imaginary middle finger I was giving the bitches!  After recess i think god help me that we don´t have to do lunch here.  It´s time to enter the animal farm.  I walk up and see from a distance the birds, chickens, goats in cages and some running around.  It´s time to pull out the hand sanitiser as i think i am hitting the bird flu zone by the looks of things.  The kids are all over the animals i stand back with my traveller wipes, the minute kids come up they get a wipe or a dollop of snaitiser as this looks like again somewhere the RSPCA would cut sick!!!!  Then we go to another tent with there are baby miniture turtles, fish, rats, rabbits, hamsters and birds for sale.  You can buy a turtle for 20 pesos´.  So for $2 a baby turtle is yours and for $1.50 a Mexian Fighting Fish or splurge and pay $5 and you get a rat or a rabbit!  The kids are playing with the rabbits, rats and whatever else was in there i supervised from afar under a tree.  Whilst relaxing a delightful Mexican carnival worker comes and vomits Spanish at me.  I give the stock standard no entiendo and all the kids are looking at me laughing.  He tries to pull me over to the mangy looking goats if only i could say in Spanish ‘Hombre we kill those things back home.’  Out  come all the kids I don´t know how but seems some have bought baby turtles and fish.  I tell them in my country it is illegal to buy turtles.  Anyway as I look at one in a plastic bag struggling to get oxygen I think this is a fine lesson in Darwin’s Natural selection if this poor thing should survive the rest of the trip let alone what happens when we get back to the orhpanage.  We bid adieu to the most mangy, smelly and poverty stricken animal farm i have ever seen to the final exhibit.  The final exhibit is sponsored by our dear friends at Coca Cola.  As I sit and wait while they go through a truck which i gathering is highlighting the good deeds our friends at coke do in the world and how you manufacture the world’s best drink I sit under the tent with the other Mexican Yummy Mummies and wait.  The kids come out and get plastic bags thanks to Coke.  Great give them sugar and whatever else that is exactly what they need right now.  Fact:  It is cheaper to buy a 2 litre bottle of coke than it is purified water.  Mexico is coke and coke affiliated products crazy!  We all move to the designated pick up area.  We are early and the kids wait for it are busting to go home!  They have also bought some of that crazy foam stuff in a can.  They spray all over everyone including yours truly.  It dissolves into nothing but a bit of water like that makes a difference on my sweat ravenged body.  The bus arrives to pick us up all kids are on board and it is home Jose!  So I made it in tact with all kids a far better experience than my last.  What happens when I have no kids in tow and the sun goes down (ther Feria shuts at 6am) well you will just have to wait for the next post for that one!

Rock on Rock Out

Bailsxx

 

 

 

 

The turtle and it is best not to ask what happened.

Ok I know you have all been waiting for this one and it has taken me a while but you may have to get your coffee and muffin as this could be a long one – but well worth it I promise.  It is coming at you in 3 parts. As always stay with me and I hope you enjoy the ride and many grammatical and spelling errors that accompany this terrific writing.

I am working on a shift and one of the kids says he needs 1 volunteer to go with him and 2 other kids to do his dance. He asks if I would like to go to a dance recital and I said of course I would and it could be fun and good to see a Mexican Dance Recital – don’t you love hindsight!  We leave at 4pm and we have to get a taxi over to the other side of town.  We arrive at a big square with lots of kids all in the same t-shirts and big Chinese dragon masks etc.  I ask what type of dance recital this is and it seems a few things got lost in translation.  Firstly, this was no dance recital but they were dancing in the street parade that goes all around town and takes about 4 hours.  Secondly, I would not be sitting on a seat or a piece of dirt our role is to run and follow the kids as we need to be the waterboys.  As they are dancing and moving around the streets we run alongside and give them water when they need it.  I ask what exactly this street parade fiesta is aid of?  The opening of the feria which is basically your developing world equivalent of the Royal Easter show and yes Carnies feature as do rides, stalls, food, nightclubs, no showbags and it is sponsored by Corona and runs for 2.5 weeks. Problem 1, I am wearing thongs, problem 2, 4 hours you have got to be kidding me, Problem 3, thousands of people in the street at night and one lone Gringo lady with some kids in tow and there are so many more problems I won’t begin to elaborate as they will become very apparent as we proceed.  After sitting and waiting for over 2 hours (Mexican Time has kicked in) there is still no movement at the station of the Chinese/Mexican Dancing troupe.  However, there are many floats lined up and then start to move, some are really crazy as in Mexican Mermaids, some are random guys doing dances that are borderline pornographic in terms of hip gyrations, some are International Customs no Aussie’s in Speedos though.  By this stage I would of gladly donned a bikini and surf lifesaving hat as I could not see the light at the end of the 4 hour run ahead of me in thongs.  I need to get serious I tell the 2 girls with me you need to stay close you can run ahead but you MUST come back and wait for me at times.  I can’t run in thongs and I am going to be in a very bad way if you lose me in the crowd.  They promise and understand.  I also tell the kids that at 9.30pm wherever we are which should be at the Centro Plaza we must meet and head home and this is curfew.  We all agree and at 6pm we have movement of the float and lift off.  It is getting dark I am in shorts, a singlet, thongs and my very obvious backpacker day pack.  The girls start to run and I follow with a slight jog.  The sweat is pouring how unusual!  However, they do throw lollies from the floats of which I grabbing at rapid speed I need glucose and some food to sustain me.  This particular float/troupe being Chinese themed have firecrackers that go off every 2 bloody minutes.  Every time one goes off I jump about a meter and nearly hit the deck thinking gun fire.  I swear I could off done many GI Jane moves down the streets.  At around 7.30pm we run into 3 other kids.  I ask what are they doing and do they have permission to be out?  They said they have to be home in 15 minutes but a quick call to their Dad and they have permission to stay with me and come home later as they have an adult in charge.  Like Gilligan’s Island what was to be a 2 hour dance recital has turned into a surrealistic nightmare which has expanded to 6 kids, me and the streets packed with thousands of locals.  We continue to walk, run etc and follow the fire crackers and the dancing Chinese dragon.  It gets to 8.30pm and this Gringo is in serious need of a banyo (toilet).  I tell the kids they have to find one and wait for me.  They point to a deserted car park and tell me to go in the corner.  No way Jose I need a proper toilet.  We see one and by this stage me and my thongs have got a serious run on.  I dash over and dash through to have a man with an AK47 grab me on the arm.  I nearly start to cry and seriously wet my pants.  Thank god one of the kids was with me and they say I have to pay to use the toilet.  I fork out 60 cents for myself and one of the girls and in I go.  Thankgod for the stock standard supplies of tissues and hand sanitiser as these banyo’s were not the 5 star variety.  We keep moving and we are getting close to centro and 9.30pm.  The firecrackers are still making me jump and you would think after 3 hours I would be able to roll with it but no clearly I can’t!  The streets are packed and lined with crowds so ease of movement to follow the dragon is proving to be very difficult.  I have a sugar rush going on so continue to scramble and have all kids in sight so all is well in the world.  We get to Centro it’s 9.20pm thank god.  I have 3 kids with me and no sign of the other 3 kids.  The boy in the dance troupe refuses to pull out of the parade, the 2 other water girls are still following him.  Miss Baillie is looking like she is up shit creek without a paddle – 3 missing kids and nearly 9.30pm.  I start to get my cranky pants on.  I tell the kids to call the other kids on their mobiles and tell them to return immediately.  This does not work.  I then tell them if everyone gets back here asap I will buy them some pizza.  Usually food is a great incentive but not this time.  I am seriously about to lose control – the sugar rush has disappeared and I am tired, covered in dirt and need my bed big time.  After 30 minutes of to-ing and fro-ing on mobile phones I sit in the gutter defeated.  I can’t leave 3 kids on the streets at 10pm at night and only return home with 3.  As I sit in the gutter 2 kids go off to get the others.  They tell me the parade ends up at the Fair grounds which are another 40 minutes walk away.  I nearly begin to cry tears of absolute frustration.  As I sit in the gutter some random man comes up I think he is drunk starts speaking Spanish and I start to feel like this is not good to my rescue comes one of the girls tell him to bugger off or alike and we sit on the ledge outside Domino’s pizza.  Eventually at 10.15pm the kids all return.  I am livid no pizza and straight home.  I don’t talk to any of them.  Meanwhile Dad has called them to find out where the hell they are and what exactly is going on.  We get home to face the music.  I must look like I have gone through the ringer and the kids all start blurting out Spanish to Dad.  What they say I do not know.  I explain in English what had happened ie they ran away from me at 9.15pm after being so good for the whole night and taking very good care of the lone GI Jane Gringo.  They were actually very sweet but that faded away when they ran away!  Dad then tells me that the kids said and I quote: ‘She got us lost!  She didn’t know her way around and got us really lost that is why we are so late.’  Steam and fire are coming out of every orifice.  Dad knows this is not true as these kids have lived her for 17 or so years how I can get lost with them is a mystery.  I vow never again to do this sort of thing and never speak to the kids again.  The next morning I have calmed down they each come and apologise and bring me gifts as I also explain to them exactly why I was so cranky and how if they carry on like this they will never go anywhere again.  So after this introduction the FIT 2011 (Feria International Tapachula 2011) I vow to have nothing ever to do with the fair and all it involves ever ever again.  So part 2 will show you that you should never say never now should you!

Rocking out and stay tuned

Bailsxx

 

A freaky float - leaves Mardi Gras for dead I know! 

You have no idea how I wished I was those kids and could of sat my way through the night 

Spot the lone Gringo Lady?!

 

 

 

Welcome to my new favourite term.  I was so lucky to learn of this new category from my new found fellow Aussie Glamourpackers.  How we got to talking about this will be explained below - of course as always stay with me.

Last blog entry saw the horror 13 hour bus ride from hell.  It seems my stay in Paradise aka Puerto Escondido had a theme and that was of quite bizarre bus rides.  After spending some serious quality time discovering the joys of the beach at Zicatella and the dolphins, not to mention the fine food on offer in the area it was time to explore some of the other outer areas.  It was time for this glamourpacker to go nomadic!  Myself and my fellow friends decided to go and visit some areas about 2 hours away by bus to check out what they had to offer.  Through the grapevine we had heard of good things in these far away places.  We took off for Zipolitte.  To get there we had to get a colectivo.  A colectivo is any of the oldest possible mini tarago, utes or sometimes a cab that moonlights as a colectivo – this means fit as many people as possible all squashed into a cab and all paying a small fare for the pleasure.  A colectivo from the hotel was a ute with a tarp cover and for 40 cents it is a bargain.  We jump in and bump and grind away to the official bus station.  There is nothing to hang on to but for dear life.  However, it is a very cost effective way for this glampacker to travel so I can savour more delights on arrival.  We get to the main bus stop where you get all different classes of buses my 13 hour was first class to give you a picture of the bus class system.  We are told 5 different things and 2 possible stops to get off at.  We choose San Antonio and the Oxo.  Oxo´s are everywhere her and they are like you kick ass 711´s.  We see the golden OXO sign from a mile away and decide this is where we need to get off.  We also noticed several other nomads armed, locked and loaded with the Lonley Planet and a lovley Mexican lady telling them this is where you have to get off so we followed suit and bounced.  At the Oxo there are quite a few taxi driver´s.  We manage to bargain in Spanish.  You will be happy to know I now have a far better command of numbers so makes life much easier than having to pull out the Lonley Planet phrasebook.  We get a cab to Zippolite.  We are ushered to a place that one of my friends stayed at and said they had amazing food.  Off we trot and arrive at what I like to call Nomadic Hippie Heaven.  No food is on offer however for 25 cents you can get a hammock for the night or a very rustic looking and very small cabin with a padlock on the door.  We sit and have a drink overlooking a quite amazing beach.  As we survey our surrondings our friend tells us this beach is famous for nudists.  It´s is like when I went to Greece all over again.  In Greece Steph and I were promised the most amazing beach after a 4hour  rock climb to get there we found it was amazing and full of fat, old nudists.  I digress, as I sip my fresh pina not pina colada but pineapple juice  we see a vision.  A man in about his late 40´s early 50´s with a rather dashing ponytail and wearing nothing but a silver glitter g-string.  As we enjoy and laugh at our surrondings hippie heaven sees some movement at the station and people start to arise from their hammocks and padlocked cabins.  I guess 12pm is a respectable time to get out of bed.  As they converge and compare dreadlocks and smoke what I can only imagine to be tea leaves we sit and eavesdrop.  I hear 2 girls one from some Nordic region and the other from the US.  They sound young and I think probably early 20´s.  They are discussing just how authentic they are and life is here.  ‘It´s real man.  We are in touch and living off the grid.´ I nearly choke on my pina juice.  I find it so hard but don´t worry I do to refrain from saying something to them.  It would be along the lines of, ‘you have got to be kidding this is a starred feature and Lonley Planet pick in the Mexican guidebook.  So glad you are in touch with whatever is growing in your authentic dreadlocks.  Not to mention how great it must be to be so authentic and off the grid with the other 150 people like you here.  I am sure the fact that menus all come in English and that you can order pancakes, french toast and you are hard pressed to find the traditional section of Mexican food on the menú must be a highlight of living off the grid here.’ 

Maybe living off the grid is all about eating pancakes in Mexico.  I hope so because don´t you worry I lived off the grid and loved every minute of it!  Anyway good on them and as they continue to smoke their tea leaves and ponder the best possible way  to live off the grid I wish them luck. 

As I watch the beach about 50 kids descend.  They are all in sports uniforms and have a beach day.  The soccer balls are out, the beach volleyball net and some limited swimming this is due the fact that the beach is closed and pretty much un-swimable as the currents and shore break will either break you or send you off into the Pacific Ocean.  It was cool to see these kids having fun and loving life.  Then in the distance we see it.  No not another nomadic nordic but a man in his late 50´s early 60´s completely naked and walking along the shore.  I kid you not naked for all to see and then cruises straight through the middle of the group of kids playing.  He does a few skips etc along and I am speechless.  See anywhere else in the world and the federales would be down there so quick, there would be arrests, news cameras, newspapers features and it is not a laughing matter but no it is just a bit more ‘color of Mexico’ or maybe too much color for my liking.  I really hope those kids recover as I am still struggling!!  After some more eating, reading and beaching it´s time for us to head back to living on the grid.  We decide to get a colectivo out of there.  This proves to be difficult.  Armed and loaded with our destination Oxo, San Antonio we start to wave at the collectivo´s the first few that were the ute with tarps don´t stop – not a good sign.  A taxi stops and says he is a colectivo.  He says a big price $1.50 no way Jose.  Then a few others stop and tell us we need to go to another location not Oxo.  After about 30 minutes of this.  I just start laughing and can´t stop.  One friend is still trying to figure out what the hell is with the 2 destinations while the other is trying to flag another tarp ute.  After all the locals laughing at us, shaking their heads, waving their fingers as we attempt to negotiate locations and fare costs we think ok maybe the locals are onto something here.  We settle on a taxi colectivo and pay our $1.50 [seems that is actually the going rate] and decide the other location is the way to go.  The three of us pile in, we then stop and another rather large Mexican gentleman gets in.  I pray to god we are not going to stop any more my OHS radar is already off the grid.  Then lo and behold we end up at Oxo.  We get off and the Taxi driver points to the dust pocket for us to stand to get out 10th class bus back to Puerto we got a 2^nd/3^rd  class bus there.  We go stand there with 2 other lovely, old Mexican men in massive cowboy hats I figure this is going to be ok.  Then more taxi´s come out of no where and tell us they will drive us the 50 minute drive back for $30 again no way jose.  I only wish I knew the Spanish translation for ‘Get Your Hand off it Daryl!’ or maybe substitute in a Jose or Antonio as opposed to Daryl.  Out of nowhere a dodgy looking bus with Virgin Mary´s on the outside and interior decorations to match pulls up.  My friend yells here it is and my other friend ditches negotiations for a taxi ride home.  We get on and for $4 we are home and hosed.  We sit and I sit on the aisle, the seating is not made for tall Gringos but I deal.  Then my friend in the window gets motion sickness so she has to change so she can see out the front.  I change and am sitting with my ears up around my chin – am dead serious but I do have a glampacker find in my hot little hands – rice crackers see photo below.  For 10 minutes we find this hilarious but then we find out the real reason this is a 10th class bus – suspension and I dare say shock absorbers are not equipped on the Virgin Mary bus.  After a long ride and bruising to my coxic and I also think putting my back out we jump out at our hotel it was a bizarre form of courtesy hotel drop off i think! 

As I recount this story to my fellow Aussie Glampackers I say to them I will not hesítate to spend $10 on 2 cocktails and good food nor will I say in any way I am living off the grind whilst smoking tea leaves and putting clamps on my dreadlocks.  The utopian Paradise I feel does not exist just ask Alex Garland.  What does exist is experiencing a 10th class bus ride I´ve done it once so no need to repeat it I think this glampacker and her rice cakes may fork out cold hard cash for a 2nd class bus in the future.  My Aussie friends were telling other stories that were similar and we were laughing.  They said we are Glampackers and I like it so I have now claimed it too!  Don´t get me wrong everyone is different I get it.  If we were all the same life would be dull.  I am not judging them or being rude do what you want I say but it does make me laugh at how I kind of embrace it.  I know and I am proud that I am a useless, unauthentic, gringo, who is Espanol challenged and a glampacker  - and that my peeps is how I roll.

Bailsxx

The time has come for a mini break . I have now been at Mision Mexico for 2 months and the time has come for a little 10 day break at Puerto Escondido which is the location of the famous Mexican pipeline surf break. How do you get here well my peeps a nice little overnight 13 hour bus ride from downtown Tapachula is the answer. I get to the bus depot at 10.30pm ready for departure at 10.45pm. Thankfully one of my local Aussie spanish speaking friends comes in to make sure I get on the bus and most importantly headed in the right direction. I get on the bus no dramas. After passing through security which is put your bag down it does not get checked and then proceed through a very ancient looking metal detector which is broken and then hit up seat 18. The seats go all the way back, these seats leave airline seats for dead. I am pumped I can sleep and arrive, fresh, clear eyed and ready to hit Puerto and the beach. I have an aisle seat and next to me is one very large Mexican gentleman who seems to have issues with the seat and therefore he is now in my personal space section of my seat so I am kind of hanging out in the aisle. My joy has now turned to fear 13 hours of this wtf!!! I decide to get out the ipod listen to some relaxing music and attempt to get some snooze time. What proceeds is my new found friend begins to snore with gusto and loud decibels as Lily Allen sings in The Fear and that is why my life is fucking fantastic. My ipod gets louder and it seems so does the snores or roars I should say. So sleep eludes me. Another reason sleep eludes me is the serious need for a banyo see my Spanish is getting better that means toilet. The small cubicle at the back of the bus and god knows what awaits me down there which I can also look forward to. The bus has stopped many times but we do not get off. What happens is the lights go on and we look like the Griswald´s house in National Lampoons Xmas Vacation. This then sees a federale or army gang get on board. Armed with AK47´s which look loaded and quite frankly I don´t want to find out if there are or not and a massive big flashlight. Why it is needed I do not know what are they looking for again I don´t know but thankfully they do not find it on the bus on route to cocktails and dreams. I look at my watch 4.30am it´s time for a psych up to go down to the back of the bus. Then we stop we have driven up a dirt path and arrived at the Mexican Truck Stop. There are lights on and what looks like a restaurant. The bus driver speaks I have no idea what he has just said but think i am pretty much correct in assuming this is not Puerto Escondido. People get off I wait 5 minutes and then do a dash to get into the toilet and pray to god the bus is still outside when I am done. I pay for the priviledge a whole 3 pesos which is 30 cents and feel better. I rush out and all is right in the world the bus is there. I have also noticed the bus driver sit down to a huge plate of fine local cusine from a truck stop in gods knows where at 4.30am. I decline food as I I have the shit kit underneath the bus and I do´t want to have to dash to the cubicle at the back every 2 seconds for the next 7 hours. I hang outside people move I move very quick and back on the bus my local neighbour has gone back on and proceeded to close to sit in my lap and then apologise. If only I can say in Spanish Dude shove over and stop snoring but alas this remains an internal comment. Finally at 9am most people get off again I don´t think this is PE. I remain the bus driver comes down checks my ticket I ask if this is PE but no he waves the finger and I gather that is a no. So again it is time to visit the banyo up the back. I go up and then of course we hit a very large, steep, winding mountain range. It takes me a good 10 minutes of yanking and pulling to get the door open due to falling all over the shop from the twists and turns. I get in it is completley and utterly revolting. I can´t lock it. So whilst I try to avoid falling over whilst pulling my long pants so I don´t get god knows what on the bottom of them and try to do everything else whilst holding the door you could say I was traumatised. I finally arrive at 11.45am to my travelling buddies who have surpirsed me at the bus depot! Puerto Escondido is the stuff dreams are made of. It´s a somewhat sleepy beach surf town. It´s full of travellers, old aging US surfing hippies who have come to avoid their youth I think. A surf break again that will make or break you. I have not yet ventured to it. I value my life. It´s big, heavy, dumping let along the hugest current that could carry me back home not to the line up. So I have had cocktails on the beach, loads of amazing food, and a reclining chair and umbrella right on the beach and my new best friend Mario who brings us what ever we desire from the menu at any stage with the wave of my hand from a reclining position. Another highligh was meeting Jesus. No I have not been at church every day but we went out on a boat this morning in search of dolphins, turtles and whatever else we can see. Everyone offers these boat tours. We chose Captain Jesus just because that is a cool name. Jesus´picked us up at our hotel at 6.30am and then told us his brother was taking us bummer but no problemo. We head out away from shore after about 45 minutes we see jumping stingrays. Yes, they were jumping so far out of the water it was amazing. We then see huge ripples and fins everywhere. There are and this is no lie hundreds of dolphns in a pack jumping and playing. It is amazing and something I could not have ever dreamed I would see. Our Capatin asks you want to jump. I gather that means in. I ask about sharks. He tells us No not here never dolphins are never near sharks I was like yep heard that before and it is a lie. Then I spy jellyfish and ask if they are ok. They have long tentacles and he is like they are fine. My companions tell him You have just told us yes to everything in Australia we would say No too. I gather ok lets do it. I dive in have absolute fear on my face and so much so everyone else abandons the big plunge. I dive under water and hear the dolphons talking it is amazing. I then feel tentacles wrapping around my arms and legs. I feel a sting I freak and I scream Get my out of the fucking water they sting. Our Capatin does not understand but knows I want to get back in. All ok no wounds, all limbs in tact and no sign of a sting maybe just a slight overaction from my sensitive skin i don´t know but for about 1 minute 30 seconds I swam within close proximity of dolphins in the wild. I have 4.5 days left in the place dreams happen. So in true Baillie style I will be rocking out and thinking of you all as I sip a beer or have amazing mojitos and margaretias. Rock on rock out with a Dos Equis in hand. Thats the local beer that is amazing Corona is like Foster´s here. Bails xx

The time has come for a mini break . I have now been at Mision Mexico for 2 months and the time has come for a little 10 day break at Puerto Escondido which is the location of the famous Mexican pipeline surf break. How do you get here well my peeps a nice little overnight 13 hour bus ride from downtown Tapachula is the answer. I get to the bus depot at 10.30pm ready for departure at 10.45pm. Thankfully one of my local Aussie spanish speaking friends comes in to make sure I get on the bus and most importantly headed in the right direction. I get on the bus no dramas. After passing through security which is put your bag down it does not get checked and then proceed through a very ancient looking metal detector which is broken and then hit up seat 18. The seats go all the way back, these seats leave airline seats for dead. I am pumped I can sleep and arrive, fresh, clear eyed and ready to hit Puerto and the beach. I have an aisle seat and next to me is one very large Mexican gentleman who seems to have issues with the seat and therefore he is now in my personal space section of my seat so I am kind of hanging out in the aisle. My joy has now turned to fear 13 hours of this wtf!!! I decide to get out the ipod listen to some relaxing music and attempt to get some snooze time. What proceeds is my new found friend begins to snore with gusto and loud decibels as Lily Allen sings in The Fear and that is why my life is fucking fantastic. My ipod gets louder and it seems so does the snores or roars I should say. So sleep eludes me. Another reason sleep eludes me is the serious need for a banyo see my Spanish is getting better that means toilet. The small cubicle at the back of the bus and god knows what awaits me down there which I can also look forward to. The bus has stopped many times but we do not get off. What happens is the lights go on and we look like the Griswald´s house in National Lampoons Xmas Vacation. This then sees a federale or army gang get on board. Armed with AK47´s which look loaded and quite frankly I don´t want to find out if there are or not and a massive big flashlight. Why it is needed I do not know what are they looking for again I don´t know but thankfully they do not find it on the bus on route to cocktails and dreams. I look at my watch 4.30am it´s time for a psych up to go down to the back of the bus. Then we stop we have driven up a dirt path and arrived at the Mexican Truck Stop. There are lights on and what looks like a restaurant. The bus driver speaks I have no idea what he has just said but think i am pretty much correct in assuming this is not Puerto Escondido. People get off I wait 5 minutes and then do a dash to get into the toilet and pray to god the bus is still outside when I am done. I pay for the priviledge a whole 3 pesos which is 30 cents and feel better. I rush out and all is right in the world the bus is there. I have also noticed the bus driver sit down to a huge plate of fine local cusine from a truck stop in gods knows where at 4.30am. I decline food as I I have the shit kit underneath the bus and I do´t want to have to dash to the cubicle at the back every 2 seconds for the next 7 hours. I hang outside people move I move very quick and back on the bus my local neighbour has gone back on and proceeded to close to sit in my lap and then apologise. If only I can say in Spanish Dude shove over and stop snoring but alas this remains an internal comment. Finally at 9am most people get off again I don´t think this is PE. I remain the bus driver comes down checks my ticket I ask if this is PE but no he waves the finger and I gather that is a no. So again it is time to visit the banyo up the back. I go up and then of course we hit a very large, steep, winding mountain range. It takes me a good 10 minutes of yanking and pulling to get the door open due to falling all over the shop from the twists and turns. I get in it is completley and utterly revolting. I can´t lock it. So whilst I try to avoid falling over whilst pulling my long pants so I don´t get god knows what on the bottom of them and try to do everything else whilst holding the door you could say I was traumatised. I finally arrive at 11.45am to my travelling buddies who have surpirsed me at the bus depot! Puerto Escondido is the stuff dreams are made of. It´s a somewhat sleepy beach surf town. It´s full of travellers, old aging US surfing hippies who have come to avoid their youth I think. A surf break again that will make or break you. I have not yet ventured to it. I value my life. It´s big, heavy, dumping let along the hugest current that could carry me back home not to the line up. So I have had cocktails on the beach, loads of amazing food, and a reclining chair and umbrella right on the beach and my new best friend Mario who brings us what ever we desire from the menu at any stage with the wave of my hand from a reclining position. Another highligh was meeting Jesus. No I have not been at church every day but we went out on a boat this morning in search of dolphins, turtles and whatever else we can see. Everyone offers these boat tours. We chose Captain Jesus just because that is a cool name. Jesus´picked us up at our hotel at 6.30am and then told us his brother was taking us bummer but no problemo. We head out away from shore after about 45 minutes we see jumping stingrays. Yes, they were jumping so far out of the water it was amazing. We then see huge ripples and fins everywhere. There are and this is no lie hundreds of dolphns in a pack jumping and playing. It is amazing and something I could not have ever dreamed I would see. Our Capatin asks you want to jump. I gather that means in. I ask about sharks. He tells us No not here never dolphins are never near sharks I was like yep heard that before and it is a lie. Then I spy jellyfish and ask if they are ok. They have long tentacles and he is like they are fine. My companions tell him You have just told us yes to everything in Australia we would say No too. I gather ok lets do it. I dive in have absolute fear on my face and so much so everyone else abandons the big plunge. I dive under water and hear the dolphons talking it is amazing. I then feel tentacles wrapping around my arms and legs. I feel a sting I freak and I scream Get my out of the fucking water they sting. Our Capatin does not understand but knows I want to get back in. All ok no wounds, all limbs in tact and no sign of a sting maybe just a slight overaction from my sensitive skin i don´t know but for about 1 minute 30 seconds I swam within close proximity of dolphins in the wild. I have 4.5 days left in the place dreams happen. So in true Baillie style I will be rocking out and thinking of you all as I sip a beer or have amazing mojitos and margaretias. Rock on rock out with a Dos Equis in hand. Thats the local beer that is amazing Corona is like Foster´s here. Bails xx

The time has come for a mini break . I have now been at Mision Mexico for 2 months and the time has come for a little 10 day break at Puerto Escondido which is the location of the famous Mexican pipeline surf break. How do you get here well my peeps a nice little overnight 13 hour bus ride from downtown Tapachula is the answer. I get to the bus depot at 10.30pm ready for departure at 10.45pm. Thankfully one of my local Aussie spanish speaking friends comes in to make sure I get on the bus and most importantly headed in the right direction. I get on the bus no dramas. After passing through security which is put your bag down it does not get checked and then proceed through a very ancient looking metal detector which is broken and then hit up seat 18. The seats go all the way back, these seats leave airline seats for dead. I am pumped I can sleep and arrive, fresh, clear eyed and ready to hit Puerto and the beach. I have an aisle seat and next to me is one very large Mexican gentleman who seems to have issues with the seat and therefore he is now in my personal space section of my seat so I am kind of hanging out in the aisle. My joy has now turned to fear 13 hours of this wtf!!! I decide to get out the ipod listen to some relaxing music and attempt to get some snooze time. What proceeds is my new found friend begins to snore with gusto and loud decibels as Lily Allen sings in The Fear and that is why my life is fucking fantastic. My ipod gets louder and it seems so does the snores or roars I should say. So sleep eludes me. Another reason sleep eludes me is the serious need for a banyo see my Spanish is getting better that means toilet. The small cubicle at the back of the bus and god knows what awaits me down there which I can also look forward to. The bus has stopped many times but we do not get off. What happens is the lights go on and we look like the Griswald´s house in National Lampoons Xmas Vacation. This then sees a federale or army gang get on board. Armed with AK47´s which look loaded and quite frankly I don´t want to find out if there are or not and a massive big flashlight. Why it is needed I do not know what are they looking for again I don´t know but thankfully they do not find it on the bus on route to cocktails and dreams. I look at my watch 4.30am it´s time for a psych up to go down to the back of the bus. Then we stop we have driven up a dirt path and arrived at the Mexican Truck Stop. There are lights on and what looks like a restaurant. The bus driver speaks I have no idea what he has just said but think i am pretty much correct in assuming this is not Puerto Escondido. People get off I wait 5 minutes and then do a dash to get into the toilet and pray to god the bus is still outside when I am done. I pay for the priviledge a whole 3 pesos which is 30 cents and feel better. I rush out and all is right in the world the bus is there. I have also noticed the bus driver sit down to a huge plate of fine local cusine from a truck stop in gods knows where at 4.30am. I decline food as I I have the shit kit underneath the bus and I do´t want to have to dash to the cubicle at the back every 2 seconds for the next 7 hours. I hang outside people move I move very quick and back on the bus my local neighbour has gone back on and proceeded to close to sit in my lap and then apologise. If only I can say in Spanish Dude shove over and stop snoring but alas this remains an internal comment. Finally at 9am most people get off again I don´t think this is PE. I remain the bus driver comes down checks my ticket I ask if this is PE but no he waves the finger and I gather that is a no. So again it is time to visit the banyo up the back. I go up and then of course we hit a very large, steep, winding mountain range. It takes me a good 10 minutes of yanking and pulling to get the door open due to falling all over the shop from the twists and turns. I get in it is completley and utterly revolting. I can´t lock it. So whilst I try to avoid falling over whilst pulling my long pants so I don´t get god knows what on the bottom of them and try to do everything else whilst holding the door you could say I was traumatised. I finally arrive at 11.45am to my travelling buddies who have surpirsed me at the bus depot! Puerto Escondido is the stuff dreams are made of. It´s a somewhat sleepy beach surf town. It´s full of travellers, old aging US surfing hippies who have come to avoid their youth I think. A surf break again that will make or break you. I have not yet ventured to it. I value my life. It´s big, heavy, dumping let along the hugest current that could carry me back home not to the line up. So I have had cocktails on the beach, loads of amazing food, and a reclining chair and umbrella right on the beach and my new best friend Mario who brings us what ever we desire from the menu at any stage with the wave of my hand from a reclining position. Another highligh was meeting Jesus. No I have not been at church every day but we went out on a boat this morning in search of dolphins, turtles and whatever else we can see. Everyone offers these boat tours. We chose Captain Jesus just because that is a cool name. Jesus´picked us up at our hotel at 6.30am and then told us his brother was taking us bummer but no problemo. We head out away from shore after about 45 minutes we see jumping stingrays. Yes, they were jumping so far out of the water it was amazing. We then see huge ripples and fins everywhere. There are and this is no lie hundreds of dolphns in a pack jumping and playing. It is amazing and something I could not have ever dreamed I would see. Our Capatin asks you want to jump. I gather that means in. I ask about sharks. He tells us No not here never dolphins are never near sharks I was like yep heard that before and it is a lie. Then I spy jellyfish and ask if they are ok. They have long tentacles and he is like they are fine. My companions tell him You have just told us yes to everything in Australia we would say No too. I gather ok lets do it. I dive in have absolute fear on my face and so much so everyone else abandons the big plunge. I dive under water and hear the dolphons talking it is amazing. I then feel tentacles wrapping around my arms and legs. I feel a sting I freak and I scream Get my out of the fucking water they sting. Our Capatin does not understand but knows I want to get back in. All ok no wounds, all limbs in tact and no sign of a sting maybe just a slight overaction from my sensitive skin i don´t know but for about 1 minute 30 seconds I swam within close proximity of dolphins in the wild. I have 4.5 days left in the place dreams happen. So in true Baillie style I will be rocking out and thinking of you all as I sip a beer or have amazing mojitos and margaretias. Rock on rock out with a Dos Equis in hand. Thats the local beer that is amazing Corona is like Foster´s here. Bails xx