Around The World In 80 Waves

That is the question.

Looking a litle less Gringo certainly helped through Mexico  because until I opened my mouth everybody assumed I was a local.

I do believe that sporting one may yet help a bit as I go further south because it makes me look a little less green.

However here in Guatemala it doesn’t matter what state my facial hair is because I am nearly a foot taller than everybody so I stick out like a sore thumb.

To illustrate this, here is a picture of one of the residence’s security guards stood next to the Little Green Surf Machine:

You can see that he is barely taller than the car whereas the roof only comes up to my chest.

I am having to do almost daily trimming of my moustache and for all the hassle I might just as well be clean shaven so am thinking of getting rid of it. What do you think?

I have treated the Little Green Surf Machine to a service, and asked them to sort out a couple of niggly issues.

The windscreen wash keeps packing up because there is a bodged repair on the hose connecting the water bottle to the windscreen. This is not a massive concern in itself but the rainy season will be here soon, and given the number of bat sized bugs which get obliterated on my windscreen daily I will be glad I sorted this.

Having nearly boiled the car dry more than once and had all the oil drain out the bottom I have asked for new fluids and a filter. I am getting them to fit the reinforced oil pan/sump I bought at the same time.

The speed bumps have also taken their toll. I have been getting a lot of vibration under braking so think I have damaged one or both of the lower control arm bushings with the hammerings they have at times been taking. The symptoms are very similar to having done so with my BMW back on the speed bumps of London.

Sadly they are not willing/able to help me jack up the suspension to minimise further issues due to the bug’s low ground clearance.

There was bound to be some maintenance expenses along the road, but I am just hoping that the bill for all this wont be huge.

By the way, if anybody wants some investment advice. I am probably swelling the coffers of Volkswagen’s bank accounts worldwide, so it might be worth investing a few quid!

I haven’t posted much in the last few days because I really haven’t done a great deal. After three months of constant movement on the road I was really shattered when I arrived in Guatemala City, so have been allowing myself a few days off and enjoying the very comfortable surroundings here at the Ambassador’s Residence

Living here is quite the opposite of any surf trip I have ever been on.

Carmen the lovely housekeeper has done all my laundry for me, and wants me to let her know when I will have more for her.

I am served lunch on gold plated crockery embossed with the crest you see on the front of your passport, and wouldn’t dream of offending the staff by doing the washing up.

Security is an obvious concern here so apart from the razor wire and CCTV surrounding the premises, there are also armed guards on all of the entrances who are doing an excellent job of looking after the Little Green Surf Machine for me.

On arrival I was given the earthquake evacuation procedures for the premises due to it being in such a seismically active zone. To elaborate further on this there are several volcanies surrounding the city, one of which erupted two days ago, and there was a major quake here at the end of last year which killed hundreds of people.

However other than a few meals at the shopping centre across the road I havent seen many of the sights or indeed moved far from here.

I spent a whole day trying to balance out my truckers sun tan. Constantly lying on my front and turning to try and keep my right hand side in the sun. I got a bit scorched but did even the colour across myself nicely.

I had found a lovely spot for this in the grounds under the flag pole proudly bearing the British diplomatic flag. I was stretched out in my shorts out of sight until a group from the embassy who were here on a training day stumbled across me. I was quite pleased to be described as Mr January, but I am not sure as to which publication they were referring to!

The whole environment is a bit alien to me, and I dont quite know how to feel about it. However I have been invited by Her Majesty to make myself comfortable here, so as a loyal subject I will do what I can for the next week to comply.

If it helps I can assure you that your hard earned tax pounds are being very well spent. Keep up the good work back in Blighty!

Not me, my God-son Robert Pearson Junior. My cousin thouht it would be funny to confuse the vicar by having two Robert Pearsons at the ceremony.

Hope you have a great day and that you like the Megasketcher.

Lots of love from

Uncle Robert

A blatant plug for Stuart and Eric who are running the London Marathon together.

Having done it myself without an Emu as a training partner I know how hard it is, so please help them if you can.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StuCooke

Run Eric, Run!

The grand finale of British Week was the British Ball, which was themed around our rock and pop music.

I manage to lay my hands on some suitable attire and do what I can to help get things ready in the marquee in the back garden of the residence, but am largely in the way of the explosive sniffer dogs and other brilliant staff.

As well as the tables, the roof of the marquee has also been decked out in a Union Jack, and it isn’t long before the guests start to arrive.

I am again sat on the VIP table and have great fun talking rugby, business and surfing with the Central American represenatative of the World Bank, and about my trip with the Ambassadors from Mexico, Holland, Japan and Belize. My limited Spanish means I dont have any real conversation with the government ministers in attendance, but everybody loves my ‘Point It’ picture book which I will be using throuout this trip whenever the local language is unfamiliar to me.

I am not really spoilt by a pile of Ferrero Rocher at the Ambassador’s party, but the food was exquisite and a huge retinue of white gloved waiters ensure that my glass never gets close to being empty.

There is a covers band playing British anthems but with a funky twist, which are awesome, a karaoke system on the patio and a DJ is spinning his decks until well after 3am. I am not sure what I was expecting but am again chuckling at the experience of the dance floor bouncing to the entire diplomatic community shaking their collective booties to House of Pain’s ‘Jump Around’ and LMFAO’s ‘Sexy and I Know It.’

Without doubt the most entertaining evening of the trip so far. I am dancing for about four hours and due to the difference in size am literally able to throw the Guatemalan ladies around the dance floor, which is so much fun. A simply fantastic night, which ends with myself and the Ambassador’s husband being the last there and having the lights turned out on us some time after 3am.

Neither of us is feeling too clever today though!

Me finding the Ambassador’s residence was going to be almost impossible, so I had arranged to be met in the car park of the Tikal Futura Hotel and Miraflores shopping centre.  I had been given excellent directions to there by the embassy staff and found it easily enough. My mobile phone had packed up in the morning, (of course just when I would need it, Grrrr) so upon arrival I went in search of a pay phone to let them know I had arrived, and managed to get just enough details across in the few seconds I was allowed with the only coin I had in my wallet so that they could find me.

At least that is what I thought. Over two hours later I eventually met up with my escort because it turns out there are two car parks for these establishments. They were doing laps of one thinking how hard can it be to find a lime green VW Beetle with a surfboard on the roof, while I am sat in the other thinking the same thing. I couldn’t ring to find out what was going on because my phone wasn’t working, until I eventually had to persuade a maintenance man in the car park to let me use his phone to make contact and have him talk them in to me. Meanwhile they had been wondering if I had been abducted.

Upon arrival at the Ambassaor’s residence I am immediately challenged to a jumpers for goal posts football match with the staff. Although I am surf fit, I haven’t played football in nearly two years, or even been for a run since Central Park so nearly have a coronary and am melting in the heat.

Myself two bodyguards, a driver and the gardener got thrashed by the opposition. I wasn’t much use in front of goal, and our keeper had a shocker, but it was good to get to know everybody.

There is just enough time to have a refreshing beer before being driven into town in the Ambassador’s bomb-proof armoured car, complete with armed bodyguards, to go and see a Queen tribute act which has been laid on as part of British week back at the Tikal Futura Hotel, in their conference centre.

The tribute act hails from Argentina and are brilliant, basing their performance on Queen’s Wembley gig from the 80s. I like the rest of the 1000 strong crowd love it, but have the best seat in the house at the Ambassador’s table at the front of proceedings.

I am chuckling to myself when the sort of response I get from those around me to ‘Hi, what do you do for a living?’ is ‘I am the Minister for Trade with the European Union.’ This really isn’t your average surf trip! 

The reason I covered Mexico at such breakneck speed was because this week is British Week at the UK’s Embassy in Guatemala’s capital Guatemala City, and I have been invited to be an honoured guest for the proceedings by no less than the Ambassador themselves.

If I hadn’t put my foot down I would have missed taking up this wonderful opportunity, which I knew would not happen often in life.

It only takes a few hours to drive from Panajachel to the city and this passes without incident other than scraping across a few more speed bumps.

I took this picture of one of the roads though to give you a flavour of the Guatemalan driving experience. This by local standards is an extremely good road.

I have allowed myself a day to just hang out and catch up on myself at this traveller hot spot. Panajachel is one of a number of towns on the edge of the massive lake that is called Lagos Atitlan, which is itself in between four active volcanoes.

The area which was actually in the clouds when I arrived yesterday is stunning. I had too much to deal with on the mountain roads to even notice it, but breathtaking doesn’t do it justice.

I make some sarnies to feed me for the day (this blog could arguably be called around the world in eight hundred ham and cheese sandwiches!) before taking a ferry boat across the lake to the charming market town of Santiago Atitlan which is inhabited by the indigenous Maya people who speak only their own dialect of Tz’utujil.

I have probably the best coffee I have ever tasted and then go shopping for some souvenirs, resisting the temptation to buy myself a stylish machete of my own. (My mother rather sensibly confiscated the last one I managed to lay my hands on. I was only 12!)

I consider myself to be quite good at haggling but was taught a lesson in it by the tiny Mayan ladies. I actually had to take my T-shirt off in one shop to prove that their XLs were not big enough for me before I was allowed to leave the shop empty handed! I eventully found the XXL I was looking for and a couple of other little things too.

I had time for a quick look around the town before heading back, and took this picture from the steps of the church. The building in the foreground is the primary school and that is indeed an active volcano in the background. You can get used to anything I suppose!

The wind has increased significantly through the day and the journey back across the lake was so bumpy I nearly claimed it as Wave 35, because I have surfed smaller waves on this trip. I was the last to board the fibreglass boat, and all the cushions had gone, so by the time I had got back to Panajachel I felt like a one legged man who had just come last in an arse kicking contest. I had to brace myself between the roof, the side, the hull and the bench seat to try and protect my delicate backside.

Nothing much else to do today so I catch up on the blog and have a few beers bumping into Taru again as well as a load of other friendly travellers.
It is quiz night at the bar and because I am a trivia fiend I persuade Taru to take on the quiz with me. Despite a shockingly bad USA music round and there being just the two of us versus six people on each of the other teams we win the quiz comfortably, and all the prize money, which was enough to cover my hotel bill while here. We also won bonus shots for being the only team to know what a merkin was. Result!!!