Remembering 2024

Time is quickly turning the events and experiences of Latin America's rich, vibrant lands and the diversity of people and cultures that populate them into distant memories. I am late to try put into words some of these experiences. But I still want to try. I know how valuable this process can be. To take time to reflect. To appreciate. To express gratitude. To remember and provide anchors for my memories. Writing I find, is a beautiful way to do that.

Writing is practice that I can trace all the way back to another adventure Kathy and I embarked on, many years ago in 2017 - how time flies - when we landed in Bali, Indonesia. Writing about that trip around South East Asia was how I learnt to write, how I grew to love the process of writing and appreciate its power. I was prolific back then.

This time around though, I struggled. I didn't write regularly, which meant writing became a chore with memories no longer fresh, but fading.

Instead of many little posts, I produced two (obnoxiously?) large pieces. One capturing the 6 weeks on the West Coast of the US trip at the start of our year long adventure the other summing up 6 months in Mexico.

With these words I hope to write one more. Providing a whistle stop tour backpacking through Latin America.

Don't worry if you don't read these. I often ask myself who am I writing for. Or why do I write. The answer I come to most often, that feels most true, is that I write to and for my future selves. Hell, I barely make an effort to share these posts. Although, if you are here reading these words you are of course welcome as always.

Anyway, that is enough introspection. Let me get to it.

First, let me express a deep love of Latin America. Everywhere we went from Mexico, through the Central American peninsula to Colombia, Peru and finally Rio de Janeiro was unique to be sure. But they each share a joyful vibrancy, an aliveness that seemed lacking from the United States. I think this comes across in their music, of which I acquired quite the collection. Enjoy.

Central America

Our first stop was Belize. A quirky country on the coast of the Caribbean with an intriguing history. It was colonial Britain's enclave in the Americas that only recently gained independence and still has the Queen on their notes. Belize has a significant indigenous Maya population, used by the Brits to fight a proxy war with the Spanish and is home to fascinating Mayan ruins and sacred caves - thought to be portals to the underworld - dating back thousands of years.

I headed first to Caye Caulker for some Caribbean island vibes, delicious BBQ and its superb marine life that I explored though both diving and snorkeling. Surprisingly, snorkeling was almost better. Watching a spotted eagle ray swoop through the waters below me was pretty magical. One of the most graceful creatures I have ever seen.

I would go back to Caye Caulker in a heartbeat. In fact, we need to because Kathy didn't get to come. I guiltily left her in Mexico to sort out her last Rabies jab while I went ahead to dive.

While I came to Caye Caulker for the diving, I was soon seduced by their relaxed, go slow attitude to life. Lazy days in the sunshine.

Lazy evenings in the hammock. Excuse my feet.

It was in this hammock, that I made the decision to embarked on another speculative fiction writing journey. A side quest, that I have since seen to completion producing and publishing the story Memories of Us .

Belize was also home to the best dessert of our year abroad. Just look at the state of this lemon meringue pie we found in the sleepy town of San Ignacio near the Guatemalan border.

After Belize came a wonderful two weeks in Guatemala. A truly lovely country, very similar to Mexico but where did all the street food go? Guatemala, like Belize, has a large Mayan population and is home Tikal, the most spectacular archaeological site we saw on our trip.

A huge Mayan metropolis built before the birth of Christ and quite possibly one of the most populous cities in the world at its peak. Yet more evidence, which for anyone traveling round the Americas is hard to ignore, that these lands were heavily populated by innovative, dynamic cultures long before Christopher Columbus came to these shores.

Unfortunately, the Maya have experienced persecution bordering on genocide from the Guatemalan government apparently supported by Israeli technology and no doubt under the watchful eye of invested US interests. Again we see those who lost so much to the colonial expansion continue to suffer from the modern inheritors of colonial wealth and power.

In Guatemala we hiked Acatanango, a monster volcano that is next to Fuego an active and regularly erupting beast. It was the hardest hike I have ever done in my life I think. Just up, up, up. Then back down through the gravelly, volcanic dust was almost worst. Rough AF.

Still the sunrise views at the top were incredible.

We also visited the beautiful Lake Atitlán, a lovely body of water whose shores are dotted with little towns and villages. Some only accessible by a sketchy boat ride. Many of these towns were predominantly indigenous, Maya communities whose heritage can be traced to the refugees from the collapse of ancient Mayan cities like Tikal and Calakmul. I could have spend a few weeks here. The only problem was the notoriously diseased water of the lake, swimming largely not recommended.

We saw gorgeous sunrise over the lake from Indian Nose and stayed in probably the best hostel of our trip, La Iguana Perdida. Proper family vibes.

Then it was onwards again. A pretty torturous 18 hour minibus journey through Central America and across three border crossings to Nicaragua.

This was the most rural, sparsely populated country we visited. We didn't love it to be honest. Although, to be fair, we went at a bad time. It was stiflingly humid due to the delayed rainy season.

Ometepe, was beautiful and definitely had potential with its towering pair of volcanoes and lovely mango tree beach. It was also home to a museum stuffed full of archaeological artifacts found on the island - it is wild to think that Nicaragua might have been more densely populated 1000s of years ago than it is now.

We also found some delightful home cooking from a Nicaraguan grandma from the Pacific surf town El Paredon. So nice I went there twice.

So that was Central America. Not my favourite part of our trip, but affordable and varied. Also it has the benefit of being fairly small. I mean we got through 4 countries in an long days travel. In South America, as we were about to learn, you could travel all day and barely get between two cities. Colombia and Peru are mindbogglingly vast, we barely touched the sides.

After a quick pit stop in San Jose, Costa Rica aptly named the arsehole of Latin America based on the little we saw of it, we headed to Bogota, Colombia.

Colombia

Luscious, fertile, green Colombia. I really enjoyed this country, but I also feel like it is the place I least got to know. A place with so much more to see, so much variety. Again we were surprised by how mountainous the place is and how dam lush and green it was. I guess as the foothills of the Andes and the edges of the Amazon that was silly of us, but still it was really something.

Bogota, Colombia's capital was our first stop. A place that seems to have a negative reputation on the backpacking trail, we heard a few horror stories but we loved the city. It was everything we had been missing from Central America. The vibrancy and buzz of a big city overflowing with possibility and adventure.

Bogota, like Mexico City, is a City at altitude in a mostly flat basin butted up against mountains at one end. Apparently, this means that almost anything can be grown here, and grown well, year round. The streets of the city were awash with vendors selling all manner of fresh produce, including many delicious fruits I had never even heard of before.

From huge green pods, full of furry candyfloss like goodness.

Or these sweet lychee like spheres encased in a thick furry red shell.

We spent four hectic days here, but it could easily have been longer. It has a buzzing craft brewery scene and is the up and coming culinary capital of Latin America. Plus, it is so very affordable. A full course, nutritious, vegetarian menu del dia in the historic centre went for a couple of pounds. Oh and best of all you could drink the water! Fresh off the Andes I guess. What a treat.

Bogota is a place of very distinct districts or areas, each with their own vibe. One of these was where we had our first taste of the Colombian nightlife. We went to Mad Radio Station for a proper DJ playing for the locals, not a tourist in sight. The best kind of place.

Then leaving there, we stumbled out onto streets that reminded me of the carnage of a Northern city center at 2am on a Saturday. A chaotic mass of people, traffic and detritus sprawled across the streets. I wish I had a picture, it was really something.

Bogota is also the birthplace of cyclovia, every Sunday they close of many of the main roads in the city to vehicles turning the regularly clogged arteries of Bogota into delightful cycle ways. Even more delightful was learning that Bogota has been doing this since 1974, inspiring many other cities in Latin America and indeed the whole world to follow suit.

From Bogota we traveled to Salento, a cute, colorful tourist town nestled in the valleys of Colombia's coffee region. Just look at the view from our hostel.

The main draw of Salento, are the wax palms, the tallest palm trees in the world. To be fair, they were pretty impressive skinny little things.

We got a jeep and walked round the famous wax palm valley, but the best thing by a mile we did in Salento was downhill mountain biking. You get driven an hour up to the top of the crest of the valley before cruising a ways downhill into a virtually untouched valley of wax palms. Condors circling overhead. The only sign of human life is the occasional rustic farmhouse and their cattle. It was gorgeous. Way better than the "famous" wax palm valley which has become full of those tacky tourist gift shops and instagram photo spots. This was magical.

From Salento we took probably the sketchiest bus ride of our trip. At least the sketchiest ride that we were awake and conscious of. Most of it was fine, driving through lush greenery interspersed with towering tufts of bamboo. Then as we neared Medellin we had to climb up through a windy mountainous pass whose traffic consisted mainly of huge freight trucks. The bus driver didn't give two fucks and would steam round blind corners on the while overtaking one or two of these trucks. I mean he seemed to know what he was doing, and we made it so I can't complain too much, but Christ it was edge of your seat stuff at times.

Then we came to Medellin, a beautiful city sprawled across and up seven hills. Its isolation from the rest of Colombia has led to a clear sense of identity that distinguishes themselves from the wider Colombia. Medellin oozes with cool. Although, we also felt like it had a sketchy underbelly that was closer to the surface that other places we had been. There is one primary tourist district "El Poblado", which is cool but almost artificially so. As was Comuna 7, the once narco controlled neighborhood with its warren of alleyways and steep hills that we toured with a local. Colombian gentrification I suppose.

The geography of Medellin makes for some innovative public transportation. There is a decent subway network which is augmented delightfully by cable cars taking you up into the hillside communities. In addition to this, some of the hillsides thankfully included escalators. There was a clear sense that people, migrants mostly, settle ever higher up into the hillsides in a most informal manner. Over time, the municipalities gradually formalise these places. Turning dirt paths into concrete roads, connecting them to the public transportation network and providing typical municipal services and amenities. I imagine it is a painfully slow process, but there seemed something organic about this process that I rather enjoyed. You could imagine London growing in a similar way back in the day.

Of course that is before you think deeper about the reasons for the migration of people. Refugees from the drug wars and persecution that have ravaged Colombia and the regions around Medellin in particular. Escobar is definitely not a well loved figure in these parts, no matter what the Netflix show implied. Although it hasn't stopped the proliferation of Escobar merch being touted throughout the city.

In Medellin we got to hang out with Hannah Robinson, in Bogota too in fact. It was lovely to see a friendly, familiar face.

We experienced the madness and passion of Colombian football fans together at an Independiente match.

Went also went on a tourist tour to a private rock that you can pay to climb up and look out over some beautiful lakes. Afterwards we were taken to a tourist town where we were given a tourist meal and a little time to explore. It was kinda okay, but far too much like being on a school trip. I wouldn't recommend it. I wish I had gone there on a motorbike tour, that would have been incredible. Or just go on your own, spend a night in the town, give it some proper attention. Much better was the 20 minutes cable car to a jungly park just over the crest of one of the mountains. I wish we had more time to explore that.

From Medellin we flew to Santa Marta on the North Coast of Colombia. We didn't quite fancy a 24 hour bus journey after our last one.

Now Santa Marta itself is a bit of a dive. Smelly. Dirty. Sketchy. Although, surprisingly it did have a gem of a vegetarian cafe called Ikaro. A lovely change after the tasty but repetitive menu del dia, which was always soup followed by meat, chips and rice. They love the carb loading in Colombia.

While Santa Marta itself wasn't great, it is situated on the doorstep of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta mountains. One of the highest coastal mountain ranges in the world and home to the magical town of Minca.

Minca, a jungle paradise, was only recently opened to tourism having previously been controlled by Colombian Paramilitary. Today though, Minca is firmly on the backpacking trail having been taken over by hippies. Still, the locals are friendly, it has a laid back vibe and access to gorgeous natural beauty.

We slept in a wooden shack in the hills above town with only a mosquito net to protect us from all manner of bugs that thickened the air at dusk.

One early morning we went bird watching and saw a pair of majestic rainbow toucans. Just look at the beak on this one.

And we managed to get on an off the menu canyoning tour, abseiling down waterfalls and navigating our way down river to town. It was epic.

We almost adopted a dog, Suerte. Or rather she almost adopted us. On multiple days she found us in the town and would not leave us alone. We mostly loved it, she was a real cutey. Apart from the implied responsibility people assigned us for her behaviour, like when she started chasing someone's chickens. She was her own boss, as free and independent a dog as you will likely meet. We even stumbled across her "owner", although it was really just a local who owned a bar that also had fallen for Suerte and provided her food and a bed whenever she wanted it.

At the weekend we attended a sweet party at this hostel called Rio Elemental. I particularly enjoyed it because it was clearly a Colombia party, as evidenced by the cars overflowing out of the car park. I assume they had driven up from Santa Marta. I discovered the unique style of music from the likes of Kelvin Momo and Da Muziqal Chef, don't know quite what genre it is but I enjoyed it.

After Minca we headed along the North coast. Staying first in a Viajero hostel, which on paper is ridiculous. A luxury resort converted into a hostel with a wonderful pool and easy access to the ocean. However, in reality it suffered from the same thing that most Viajero's we experienced suffered from. A lack of authenticity. A try hard attitude that meant "fun" felt forced and scheduled. I didn't love it, but the amenities were still great. We had a relaxing few days. Our last proper beach days given that the Rio weather was not up to scratch.

We then moved on to the British enclave that is El Rio hostel. A party hostel, that threw actually good parties with decent music. No wonder the Brits love it. It was also lovely and chill through the day, with its own private river beach and tubing with beer coolers to rent. Would recommend, just don't get trapped.

There was more to the North coast of Colombia to see. Not least the Tayrona national park next to Santa Marta that was shut while we were there. I would recommend this as a holiday destination. Two weeks along this coastline and into the mountains would make a wonderfully, varied holiday I reckon.

Our last stop before leaving Colombia was Cartagena. During the day it was a horribly hot, humid place with most people hiding from ferocious glare of the sun - fortunately I spent my days chilling in air conditioned coworking spaces. At night though, the streets and squares came to life. It was a fun, lively atmosphere that reminded me fondly of Mexico.

Time flew by in Colombia, before we knew it we were on our way to Peru and fast approaching the end of our trip.

Peru

Lima, the supposed culinary capital of Latin America. Full of fusion Chinese - Chifa, fusion Japanese - Nikka, and of course plates upon plates of delicious cerviche. Oh and lets not forget the Pisco Sours, what a drink that is. We ate well here, although I do half regret not splashing for one of the top tier places.

Lima was a nice enough city, although to drive there you take your life into your own hands. More so than even Mexico City.

We stayed in Miraflores, although I thought it was a bit soleless. If I went back I would stay in Barranco. From Mirraflores to Barranco you can wander along the Malecon admiring Lima's windswept and rugged coastline from high up on the clifftops.

The problem with Lima was it was cold, grew and gloomy. Terribly blighted by coastal fog.

From Lima we went to Huaraz, a nondescript city that has become a staging point for accessing the Andes. We did a bunch of day hikes from here, although I wish we had time for a multiday adventure like the Santa Cruz. The problem with the day hikes was the hours spent driving there, often longer than the hike itself.

Still we did the famous Laguna 69 hike, which was special even if we didn't get the sunshine.

Kathy made a friend.

We also got to hang out with the most wonderful family of cats. Five cute, luxuriously fluffy creatures that always seemed to look a little grumpy.

From Huaraz we went to Arequipa, via a quick stop back in Lima. Latin America is dotted with cities like Arequipa. Small, colonial influenced with a rich history and often beautiful surroundings. Well Arequipa was our favourite. High enough from the coast to be out of the smothering fog and bathed in almost constant sunshine. Next to two towering volcanoes. It was a lovely place to hang out and relax for a few days.

I got through a decent second draft of my story over a fiery glass of pisco.

Kathy made more friends with the locals.

We also went white water rafting and Kathy did the two day Colca Canyon hike while I pottered around Arequipa working, eating and just generally chilling out. Would recommend.

Then we were whisked onwards, in our final overnight bus of the trip. To Cusco, the capital of the Inca Empire and the bellybutton of the world. A magical, alluring place that only grew on us the longer we spent there.

Cusco is another of those cities that are so common on this side of the world, a city cupped in a mountain valley over 3000m above sea level. Glorious sunny days. Cold, crisp nights.

Cusco had charm, a rich history and what felt like many layers of intrigue to peel back and ponder over. The mind boggling stonework of the Inca and pre-Inca civilisations. The occasional glimpse of the majestic Apu Ausangate. The warm, friendly, smiling locals.

We barely touched the sides.

Cusco is the base of operations for a vast number of tours and adventures. A place from which to dip into the wonders of mother nature - Pachamama - and the Inca history and worldview which continues to shape the region to this day. Indeed, much like in Mexico, if not more so, in these Inca heartlands it seemed clear to me that these people subsumed Catholicism into their existing belief systems viewing it as another facet of how they already understood the world.

One of the absolute highlights of our trip and a special way to bring it to a close was the Salkantay trek to Machu Pichu. It is difficult to put into words how incredible this was. Four days hiking over the spine of the Andes, then a day exploring the site of Machu Pichu.

Just wow, mind blown.

The first night camping under the Andean milky way and the watchful gaze of Senor Salkantay. Icy cold, but that view was mesmerising.

Up earlier than the crack of dawn.

Awoken to a gratefully received cup of coca tea.

Then climbing up, up, up. Into the warmth of the first rays of sunshine and the icy jaws of the pass.

Defeating seven snake, the gringo killer, Juan christened us the gringo killers. What a team we made.

All shivers and smiles, we crossed the spine of the Andes.

Then down, down, down.

Green life slowly fading back into the rocky, barren landscape.

We raced the chefs to lunch. And what a feast it was. An unbelievable mountainside banquet.

Then onwards we trudged. Dropping into the high cloud forest. Tracing the unending journey of water, as it tumbles from snow crested peaks into the roaring torrent of the High Urubamba river.

Gratefully, we arrived at camp. Savouring the view over an ice cold beer.

Before we knew it we were up and off again.

Hiking along the river and then up into the mountains again in search of a glimpse of Machu Pichu.

We gave blessings and beer to Pachamama and the Apus that smiled on our safe passage across the Andes.

Then, out of the mist, she appeared like a perfectly orchestrated performance.

The following day we got to to see this wondrous site up close and personal.

It really was awe inspiring. I even wrote a little poem afterwards.

So that was our epic and exhausting Salkantay trek.

Juan was right.

It was incredible. It was amazing.

So beautiful. His country.

Arriving back in Cusco, we barely had time to catch our breath before heading out on another adventure. This time to the Manu National Park, in the Amazon jungle.

It was really something to be surrounded by the jungle. Let me try capture if for you.

That was a poem I wrote but didn't do anything with. It felt like it might fit in here, so here it lives.

One day in the jungle, it rained and rained. Here is us wading through the aftermath desperately trying not to get water in our wellies.

Also, check out this tarantula. That is one hairy spider.

The jungle was a fun adventure. Different. Interesting. Although, we were joined by a family with a horribly whiny kid who was was 17 going on 8 years old and almost unbearable at times.

Then, back in Cusco I went on one final adventure. A solo adventure of the mind at La Casa de la Gringa. It was quite the experience, to connect more deeply with the spiritual centres of Cusco. An absolute highlight was the private tour I got around an incredible hidden archaeological gem in the hills above the city. Including leaving coca leaf offerings at the womb of the world.

And the heart of Pachamama.

This place felt ancient, much older than the Inka. My guide told me it was widely believed to be thousands of years old and that the Inka simply recognised its spiritual significance and repurposed it for their ceremonies. Fascinating and mysterious.

After that we left Cusco, left Peru and traveled to Rio de Janeiro. One final week in this famous Brazilian metropolis.

It was a good send off in a stunning city. Samba and sunbathing. Apart from it was too cold for the sunbathing part. We also wasted the best day of the week watching England lose another final they didn't deserve to be in in the first place.

Then, all of a sudden, we were home again. Back in the shire.

I learnt, or remembered, that the UK is facking brilliant.

There are a lot of beautiful, special places in the world for sure. But the majestic Ilkley moor, with all its rugged beauty, hidden nooks and gorgeous views over the rolling Yorkshire hills of the Wharfe valley is definitely up there for me. Especially when you know it like the back of your hand. Especially after a year away. It helps one appreciate what you have right on your doorstep.

I went to Beatherder. What a homecoming that was.

Then I got engaged to this most amazing, wonderful lady that I have had joy of sharing the adventures of this last year with. Love you Kathy xxx

Ilkley will always be my home. A place full of memories. Strolling around its streets and spaces, was like catching up with an old friend. And of course there was all the old friends I did get to catch up with.

Then there is London, we were back in our Upper Holloway corner of London quicker than I thought possible - Kathy smashed the house hunting.

Let me tell you, London in the sunshine is one of the best places to be in the world. Its musical and cultural menu is ridiculous. Since I have been back I have been greedily sampling it. Some highlights include Calibre's three hour set at fold and a cruise on the Dutchmaster, the Dub Pistols dub boat.

Here are some absolutely cracking Dub Boat tunes curtesy of Mr Barber.

Then in Autumn, I ticked off a bucket list item that I have had since last visiting the Californian Sierra Nevada mountains last year. A three day solo wilderness camping trip around the Cotton Wood Lakes basin.

It is difficult to put into words how serenely peaceful that was, to bathe in nature's silence for a few days.

I also found myself deeply appreciating the colours of Autumn. A beauty that is hard to find in the Americas.

Although now Autumn has turned to cold, wet winter I find myself pining for that Paraíso on the Pacific.

There is more I could say as I reflect on what has been a truly memorable year. It has not always been as wonderful and easy as this highlight reel might suggest. I have struggled for a sense of purpose and direction at times. Found myself frustrated with my own laziness. Felt guilty at the decadence of this year when so many people around the world are suffering and struggling to survive. Not to mention the carbon cost of this decadence and the impending sense of doom and despair I feel when I contemplate the possible futures of life and living on a planet ravaged by the climate crisis.

I know am barely responsible for this future, no individual could be, trapped as we are in societies invisible structures of constraints and incentives. But are we complicit. Am I?

I know I should do more.

Still, the New Year awaits. Fresh with promise and possibility. Future Will, I hope you seized it.

If you made it down here, congratulations. Hopefully some of it was interesting.

Thanks for reading!

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Much love x