I've gone rather off-piste and, having survived a night in the delightful Hotel Lee, a night spent firmly clutching a can of pepper spray to my sweaty bossom, I have made it to Finca Tartin at the mouth of the River Dulce, Guatemala. You can only reach this place by boat, which, having arrived I find out actually comes pretty much direct from Puerto Barrios. Nice Hannah, nice. I could have skipped out this morning's 3 hour journey, which feeds into my increasing suspicion that I am actually one of the most chaotic people at getting from point A to B, and absolutely consolidates the notion that having a copy of the Lonely Planet, or at least consulting a map once in a while, would be advisable. Having said that, despite additional stress, it means I have been managing to completely avoid tourists when and have found myself quite a few times over the past few days with a huge grin on my face, feeling completely free (semi-scared/petrified at times, sure) but completely free.
There is no electricity in the place, apart from between the hours of 7 - 10pm, and there are bugs here that I'm fairly sure have yet to be documented by science. I've hooked up with a bunch of nine other people and we'll head to Livingstone tomorrow. Then, after much procrastination, many wrong turns and unnecessary meandering, I'll journey forth into Belize and the Cayes.
Oh boy, it's been a hard day canoing down the river, swimming and attempting to open coconuts and I'm knackered. Inappropriate to got to bed at 9.30? I think not. Beunos noches.
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