Some though not all of the content of this post is also in the photo-essay, Coffee in Guatemala Early evening, an hour or so before reuniting with Annie for my last two days, I wander north west from Antigua´s Parque … Read More »
Some though not all of the content of this post is also in the photo-essay, Coffee in Guatemala Antigua, former Spanish capital of Central America, eight a.m. The coffee bar could be in a chic part of Milan. My latte … Read More »
In Livingston five days ago, on my way up a rocky river bed to some falls, I slipped and bashed my left side. There’s nasty bruising to leg and chest, and a painful enough rib cage to make me think … Read More »
Some but not all of the content of this post is also in the photo-essay, Coffee in Guatemala I’m once more the intrepid solo traveller. Annie took an overnight bus from Flores to Guatemala City on Saturday, thence Xela and … Read More »
I perhaps owe an apology to Scottish friends for implying in an earlier email that differences in perspective, either side of the Caledonian border, are but the joshings of friendly equals. We no longer grace monarchs with titles like Hammer … Read More »
A word on the set-up at AIDG (Appropriate Infrastructures Development Group – the Boston NGO my daughter Annie interns for) and its crew of multi-talented oddballs. Think (I´m talking to the Brits now) The Young Ones and factor in that … Read More »
Flashback to my arrival at Guatemala City a week ago. Annie and Daniel had made their own three hour trip the day before. “Being Guatemala”, daughter had reasoned, “there´ll just be a sliver of ticker tape three inches from the … Read More »
So it was fixed last night: I would rise at four-fifteen to shower, get coffee and be out on the street in full hiking gear to await Edwin, who would drive and then guide me and two other gringos up … Read More »
In town for 7:30 this morning, I was to meet Daniel, the daughter´s Mexican boyfriend, to watch the Mexico-South Africa game. In the event I couldn´t find the bar and ended up in a scruffy place selling disgusting coffee (they … Read More »
At three thousand metres in the Western Highlands of Guatemala the air is thin but carries a loamy scent. I’m coughing. Out of breath and out of condition too, having dragged self, camera and lenses (my daughter Annie´s sensible Mexican … Read More »
