Up the creek: Cañon del Sumidero
Back in August, I took a float trip down the Colorado River, through a canyon of burnt-orange sandstone walls that towered over 1km high at it’s peak as it wound through the hot Arizona desert. The guide was informative and cheerful, a seemingly endless goldmine of information
Under the skin of San Cristobal
If you’d asked me to paint a picture of Mexico before I arrived, there would probably have been a desert, some cactii and few moustachioed men drinking tequila and sleeping in the sun. They would almost certainly have been wearing ponchos and sombreros and, depending on my
Zapotec ruins, mountain pools and fried grasshoppers: a week in Oaxaca
Having travelled south from the madness of Mexico City, Oaxaca was a pleasant yet unexpected breath of fresh air. The Mexican capital was a vast, dirty melee of constant noise and activity where it was almost impossible to find a moment of tranquility. But in Oaxaca I
Oaxaca, Oaxaca: Day of the Dead
“To die would be an awfully big adventure.” – Aristotle. Okay, so it’s more famous as a line from Peter Pan, but the quote is originally attributed to the Greek philosopher. It could just as easily have been coined by one of the Aztecs, or indeed many
The Police of Puerto Escondido
Last Saturday night I was introduced to a cold, dark Mexican police cell. It was only a passing acquaintance, a mere 3 hours, but that was plenty of time to contemplate my own stupidity at refusing to pay a bribe of a measly 500 pesos. Especially si
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