A yell blasted down from the top of the cliff as V pushed to complete the last in a series of difficult climbing moves. In response, a cacophony of wails rolled in from all over the side of Cerro Quemado. It was Sunday, and the locals who had made the…
Easy Livingston. The hostel’s wifi password doesn’t lie. This remote Guatemalan border town can only be accessed by boat, which lends itself to a slower pace of life. A two hour walk along the brown, trash-lined coast brought us to the gates of Las Siete Altares. A “guard” laying in…
Rounding a bend in the river we saw a few light green butterflies, their colors perfectly matching the hundreds of oddly shaped rocks over which they flew. As a stiff breeze surged down the river these “rocks” came to life, lifting from the beach and taking flight. Like a cloud…
The water taxi crashed down into the trough between waves, the feeling of weightlessness suddenly and harshly replaced by a spine compressing crunch. It bore resemblance to the jolt that travels up your spine and rattles your brain when you think there is one more stair but slam your foot…
Gillian’s bright blue eyes and tousled blonde hair must move quickly to keep up with her wit, which runs faster than the cheetahs she has helped to rescue from around the world. From the moment we arrived to her garden bursting with orchids and fruit trees we were treated like…
We stepped out of the bus terminal in Tulum and back into the world of capitalism. Restaurants lined the streets and loud music drowned out salesmen calling customers into large brightly lit shops in English, French, Italian and occasionally Spanish. Gone were the tiny chalkboards that advertised Cuban ham sandwiches,…
