Day 83: Mexico, third time lucky…
In the morning, I made a huge arse of myself trying to pull up the anchor (all those years of never going to the gym finally paid off BIGTIME) and…
Day 72: Worst. Buses. Ever.
I gave it until 2pm until it became abundantly clear that the Treasury was not going to get back with an answer this week and asked Robbie (very nicely!) if…
Day 67: Coyote Ugly
I slept through to Orlando in Florida and then got on my last bus (for a few days at least) heading for Fort Lauderdale.This time last week, I was in…
Day 66: The Lone Star State
I've got to say, the Greyhound buses ARE THE WORST FORM OF TRANSPORT IN THE WORLD — grotty, no films, no snacks, grumpy-as-hell drivers... My first driver actually got pulled…
Day 65: Entering America
All I got to see of Mexico City was the outskirts and the bus station, but I hear it's not much too look at anyway. Driving reasonably close to Tikal…
Day 64: Once Upon A Time In Mexico
By this stage of my Herculean bus ride, it had been a week since I'd had a hot shower. To say I was beginning to smell a little ripe, would…
Day 63: A Taste of Belize
The boat that Ishmael had got me on (it had been chartered by a German couple - I was cheekily tagging along for the ride) was doing a trip over…
Day 62: Livingstone, I Presume?
I got into Guatemala City about 10am (not much sleep on the bus then) and hopped straight onto a bus for Puerto Barrios on the Caribbean coast. This was the…
Day 61: The Saviours of El Salvador
Back on the groovy bus up through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador. No cute girl for me to annoy this time, but I did meet a guy from…
Day 60: The Tailor of Panama
I arose before dawn for the last leg of the southern journey that had been necessitated by the fact that I didn't get to go to Costa Rica on the…