- Fall asleep on a chicken bus with you iphone hanging out your pocket.
- Walk around in minimal clothing (boardies/minikinis) with at least a camera and a pair of sunnies dangling around your chubby neck, and possibly a wallet somewhere on your human, with at least 3 cards and all of your money in it.
- (for chicas) Dance and grind your way into a pack of Guanacos (El Salvadorean hombres) in a rave (think Rum Diaries) whist wearing aviators at night..
- Drop in on a local at Punta Roca
- Run around La Libertad bad mouthing local gangs on street corners.
- Piss on a church or better yet a policeman.
- Find the gnarliest local in a club and proceed to woo the woman he is grinding.
- Drop in on a local at Punta Roca, then when he swears and spits at you, you swear and spit at him back and possibly call his mother a dog.
- Be American, but also wear “sandals” and cargo shorts.
** to reverse any of these, wear speed dealers. (No one will go near you)
I spent a week eating, sleeping, and drinking at Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. I also practiced yoga most mornings and read a lot, but that doesn’t ring quite as well as “eating, sleeping and drinking” which makes me sound gruff and Aussie mate.
Anyway 7 days staring at volcanoes by day and lightning by night is very soothing. A place where one might discover themselves, or possibly their alcoholism. It’s a place where a couple may smoke hash for 2 weeks without seeing a soul, and in the process lose their minds (if they hadn’t already). A place where one can wake the village up at 4 in the morning and laugh about it the following day. A place where black widows, scorpions, snakes and large dogs roam in unison.
Speaking of dogs; one fine lakeside morning we rallied together a small fellowship and trotted out the gate, onwards to San Marcos, a small yoga-doing, Mary-Jane-smoking lakeside town just along the way. In tow we had 2 fine canines; one rather large German shepherd named Balto, and one Kel-dal-dasch-staff-hua or some mash of at LEAST 8 different breeds called Sochi, possibly after the Russian city?? Who knows.
Along the way we faced the risk of being robbed, so sticks were a necessity, at most to defend off an onslaught of machetes. After an Un-eventful beginning to our adventure, the next challenge was dogs, not nice cute little puppies but haggard, cross-bred, vicious, carnivorous beasts. Luckily they were chained up.
After a few more breathtaking bays we finally got rattled…
Six or seven of Guatemala’s finest mangy perros were barkin up our tree, like a litter of crackheads hunting a fix, scenes of my life began flashing before my eyes as I lost consciousness to the heckling mutts, was this the end?
Then I stopped being a pussy and walked past the mangy beasts of wrath as did the rest of the crew, then talked about how gnarly it was. After that ordeal, we saw two old, rather short ladys carrying huge faggots up the hill past the ferals then a further 2km to their homes, where they will light fires with their huge faggots and cook beans for a small army. Then we realized we weren’t pioneering explorers and just a pack of weak little gringas and gringos. After that I spent the next 3 days doing nothing before bussing to El Salvador, where I can do nothing a little bit more but surf also.
My favorite song, and two bloody gringos. #elsalvador