Free Roaming Worker Travellers

Am I coming home? Does being here feel like coming home? It does in at least one way

As many of you know I spent over a year traveling between Rio and New Orleans, making my way hitch-hiking, taking buses and boats and working on route to pay my way and being shrewd when spending money. I made and sold necklaces, bracelets, braided hair and later sold original drawings, prints, painted murals, designed menus, produced websites and logos and sculptured wooden signs at friendly guest houses and restaurants, in the street, on the river and the beach. It was an awesome experience and returning, now, to tourist towns in Latin America, it's not rare to meet others with similar stories.

Chaz and Chazni are two such bright eyed, broadly grinning Californians with infectious laughter and long hair, travelling about spending as little as possible on food and hosting whilst visiting beautiful tourist destinations on their vague journey North or South. Money doesn't worry them because they know survival in these places is easy and when their pockets are completely empty they'll find a hostel to employ them or a painting job or whatever.

Then there is Asherlen, a beautiful Argentinan with a backpack full of things she uses for her work on the road. She left at 4am the other morning to find herself a route to Nicaragua where she plans to be A Willing Worker On An Organic farm (it's called WOOFing). She teaches yoga and tango and hand stitches ecological sanitary towels that she sells to local pharmacies or curious tourists. She also has a list of hotels and guest houses she's worked at all across South and Central America. She's laid back and hard working at the same time, teaching herself to sing and play guitar.

All four of us became friends fast and have already gone our different ways. Although it's comfortable that we could meet again just as easily some time in the future I already feel what the Brazilians call, Saudade - a healthy and pleasant mix of sadness and happiness as you remember someone who's not with you.

I could hit the road again, indefinitely, pursuing the destinations that I've been told are amazing by people whose judgement I trust but self imposed limits on the time and money I spend change the travelling game and ensure that I can pop back home in another few weeks as if I was hardly ever gone - at least as far as bills, rent, jobs and routine goes.

It's a crazy old world we live in and a trip to the new world gets me thinking like this.

Wow.

Wet Antigua Photos

Getting to know Antigua

You'd love it here in Antigua. Everything is built so beautifully, from the heavy wooden doors with old wought iron bolts and reinforcements to the cobblestone streets and colonial period courtyards filled with lush green hanging plants. The weather must go from hot and dry to intense rain with puddles staying over night as all the stonework is worn and rough with tiny holes and the streets are bumpy with shallow holes. The decorations of several hundred years ago look like they were built for this climate, bold, clear geometric patterns and iconographic representations of faces and animals and leaves adorn all the architecture and give the whole place a simple magisty.

Right now the weather is hot and the air thick but moving, it's fresh, at least in the shade which there is lots of and the morning clouds have disapated to reveal a deep blue sky. I woke up with the calls of the roosters - they must live somewhere in the mysterious terraces that surround the countless courtyards of this Old City. Going out to find some food and get my bearings I walked around the streets surrounding the central Park - an ornamental garden of wide stone pathes, benches and a grand number of great trees filled with calling birds. The locals passing by wishing me and one another 'Buenas dias' in their musical latino voices were an eclectic mix of workers, traders and old folk. In one of the street off the square, peolple of - at least - a Mayan aspect were setting up stalls (I don't  know how to clasify someone as Mayan or not but they looked Mayan to me, short, smooth chocolaty skin with  straight black hair, gently laying out coloured woven cloths or arranging street level exhibitions of small wooden carvings, babies tied to mothers waists and small children giggling as they got involved in the daily work.

By 7:30 I'd walked half the streets of the central area and was easily encouraged into a cafe resteraunt for some breakfast. Orange, yellow, yokey eggs scrambled with green  chillies and chorizo. Delicious, refried,  black beans, sour cream, a hunk of white, salty crumbley cheese and a small bowl of sweet syrupy plateno. Oh plus a bowl of three different soft breads and delicious black coffee fresh from the plantations. The kinda breakfast which reequires you to take a little break part way through, and without the coffee would send you straight to sleep. With one meal like a day, I thought, no other meal would be needed.

Since then I've been to the bank to withdraw money, armed guards and metal detectors mixed with good manners, slow moving queues in a sun drentched courtyard and one of those visa machines where they slide the plastic slider across the card to print an impression of it onto carbon-copy paper.

Then I rolled a five and a six and that's when things got really interesting ;)

Expect some more meso-american drawings from Dog soon.

Wishing that you all go well.

London to Guatemala

I've just laid down on a very comfy bed in Antigua, Guatemala after a long, tiring yet beauty-rich journey from Mitcham this morning. The plane out of Heathrow flew over the coast of Greenland on it's way to Houston, treating me to a view of snow covered ice sheets in the crisp brilliance of the midday sun. It seemed to be midday or thereabouts for most of the flight and going up and down out of the clouds was magnificent with the sun and the speed really accentuating the feeling of moving through a vast and totally 3 dimensional "skyscape" of giants.  Leaving Houston and flying to Guatemala was a different experience in a far smaller plane. The full moon rose over a misty, expanse of dark indiscriminate matter stretching to the horizon in all directions, a yellow moon track diffused on the wavy surface underneath the silver disc. There wasn't much more to see until we dropped down through the smooth, fluffy surface of the highest reaches of cloud. At that point we found ourselves plunged into an intensely beautifully moonlite environment like some kind of gianormous aquerium for grey, black, silver and white billowing clouds. We were zipping along at over 500mph with micro droplets of water streaming over the windows. Everytime we entered a cloudmass the planes extenal lights lite it up bright and every window of the plane flashes blank  before flashing back to the surreal scenery. Then as we came out the bottom of the space I was treated to the throbbing orange glow of light coming from one of Guatemala's active volcanos. Truely hard to believe it was real.

On the ground it was wet but warm. A girl from the plane had a van booked and waiting outside the airport to drive her to a hotel in the Antigua (Old) City. She offered me a place to split the cost and after such an exhausting length of time travelling ,there was little chance of me  turning it down. So I thanked her and splashed out on a taxi and a room to myself in a hotel more luxurious than I would normally have treated myself to. I'm glad I did, I took the easy option that chimed with James's advice of getting out of new Guatemala City and into Antigua (the old city) as quickly as possible. It is a beautiful hotel (Casa Rustica), all bright colours and rustic (unsupprisingly) style everything. The nice guy whose here manning the place overnight let me in and found me a room before telling where I can find a place tomorrow for a tenth of the price.He speaks musical and politely wishing me a good rest and agreeing that it's better to wait until tomorrow to find food. Buenas noches.