It was already warm as I followed our guide, Douglas through Juayua’s cobbled streets to the path where the hike began. A few local street dogs bounced alongside us, ever hopeful of pats or even better, food.
Caving in Guatemala is an unceremonious affair. You hike for a while, usually through jungle, and then simply slip in. It’s almost as if you have stumbled upon the ancient geological formation by accident. Ah, a massive cave system: what a surprise!
Each morning in Cahuita, I sip a hot coffee on my little patio and watch in silence as multiple species of hummingbird, tanager and woodpecker go about their morning routine.
Many consider sun, surf culture and endless sprawling coastline to be synonymous with Australia. Of course, it has all the above in droves, but it also has frosty winter mornings, ski fields and snow. As we enter the deep dark depths of British winter, I look back at a colder version of the world’s hottest country.
From a thin slice of fertile land that extends into the lakes of Lithuania’s southeast, wooden jetties push into the still water dangling narrow fishing boats and colourful pedalos.
I was lost metres from the main road. The midday heat of early May in Croatia’s countryside drenched the material of my heavy backpack, and I started to daydream about passing the afternoon with an icy beer instead.
Wingo was a wanderer by nature. In tales of his childhood he recalled staying in the jungle until night fall, only brought back to his village by the enticing thought of his mother huddled over the fire preparing food.