Anaconda, storms, mosquitos eating me alive, surfing, and sunburn.

Campeche went to shit because I forgot to book anything and by the time I realised, it was too late. I opted for an overnight bus all the way to the mountains and San Cristóbal de Las Casas, that gave me more than enough time to sort out three nights in the cheapest place in town. Don`t worry, it turned out alright. Sometimes being a massive tight-ass pays off (most of the time it doesn`t). The over-night bus on the other hand didn`t exactly go to plan, a combination of constant stops, paranoia about getting robbed, mosquitoes and discomfort meant I got a grand total of about fuck all sleep. (Ok, maybe I got a couple of hours...)

Fast forward a day of cultural indulgence, indigenous markets, old churches, non-stop rain and shit-ass ponchos which do almost nothing to stop you getting wet; and then the owners of the hostel invited me camping to a clear water lake on the border with Guatemala They were talking about unconfirmed sightings of an anaconda in the area and they neglected to mention it was a 6 hour round-trip until we were well underway with the journey, but the experience I had there was well worth it non the less. The rumours of an anaconda in the area were never proved true, I supposed that`s for the best. The local Mayan ruins were free and the best I`ve yet seen.

By the time we got back I had started to develop some horrific looking wounds on my feet where my sandal straps has been rubbing against mosquito bites. I didn`t think  too much of it, until I arrived to Puerto Escondido a day later and I realised that my characteristic ¨shuffle walk¨ had become more like an old man with a cane shoved up his arse. I went to a doctor, which here is a free consultancy attached to the pharmacies that convince you to spend money on drugs. She was very good actually, ordered me to buy some flip-flops so the straps were thinner and rubbing on my bites, and gave me some other instructions and medications which have thus-far proved useful but unmiraculous.

I am, however, still having big mosquito problems. I cover myself in 15% DEET mosquito repellent at night, but they bite the shit out of me anyway. My ankles are now almost more more bites and normal skin. Can`t someone just invent a genetic disease and kills these bloody awful creatures for fuck sake?

Despite all that I started my no-doubt long and successful surfing career by ignoring all the advice to take expensive lessons and just hiring a board and getting my ass out there. It was way harder than I expected, and the extremely unfriendly other surfers didn`t bother their arse to give me any tips, apart from regularly complaining that I should take classes before I kill someone. Self-righteous assholes... we all started somewhere you know. Plus I noticed the lone girls got plenty of free coaching, so why don`t you fuck off with your sexist bollocks?

I should really just get a class and maybe then I`d at least know how to steer the thing, but after that experience I`m almost tempted to just press on on my own just to spite the sanctimonious bastards. What`s it got to do with me if their heads get in the way of me cruising my surf and tearing up the waves anyway?

Stay tuned to find out how my illogical stubbornness leads us all to great new things!