Back in January 2004 Martin Wright, one the club’s most sociable regulars at the London Meetings, royally entertained a packed Crown Court with tales of his marathon cycle ride to Australia ! Many in that audience will remember his great photos, distinctive narrative style and his thirst for adventure. Well Martin is at it again – this time he’s go back to the land down under to ‘pick up his bike and have a look round’. I think too many cold winter nights provided the motivation to get back on the road ! Anyway this is the first in an occasional series, based on Martin’s emails, and charts his offbeat approach to the road ahead.

6 May 2004 : “Since arriving in Sydney a few weeks ago I have caught up with a few friends and been forced against my will to drink obscene amounts of alcohol. The cycling has been great apart from arriving and leaving any of the big cities. One time a passenger in a car leaned out of the window and pushed me off the road and of course swore at me. Luckily I was travelling slowly so came to no harm. After Canberra I cycled through the snowy mountains passing through Cooma, Jindabyne, Thredbo, over dead horse gap at 1590 metres above sea level, Geehi and Cooryong where I stayed much longer than intended due to there being a festival dedicated to one of Australia’s greatest poets, Banjo Patterson, and particularly his greatest poem, the man from snowy river. Lots of bush poetry was recited, lots of yarns were told, lots of music played. It was a great 3 days rest for me. I cycled on to Melbourne, which took me another 5 days where I caught up with Mark Attwood, another Pom who has left the mother country for better weather. Whilst here we watched Aussie Rules Football at the Telstra dome – Essendon v West Coast Eagles. Great game for a first timer !

Went to the theatre to see a play called, ‘ridiculousness’, which is summed up by its title. Found a pub which sold Guinness then found another pub which did not sell Guinness but had a very lovely barmaid from New Zealand who gave me a few free drinks… Leaving Melbourne I soon got lost only to find my way again, eventually made it to Manangatang where I caught up with the glass jar himself, Phil Matthews. Phil’s cooking has improved and his ability to drink is about the same. Mark Attwood came up for a few days and we visited Chinkapook, a place where I have a history concerning an aboriginal lady in 1984 ! Watched country football at Manangatang after which we drank beer, had a bbq, drank more beer then watched lucky Liverpool beat Man Utd ! What a bloody awful game. From Manangatang to Koorlong where I stayed with Phil’s brother Rob for a few days I spent a few days out at the farm trying to help put up a half kilometre of fencing – the fence looked good and my contribution was to hand out a few tools where needed and collect our lunch boxes ! From Koorlong to Kulwin to Paringa in South Australia to Morgan and on to Burra from where I am having yet another day of rest.”

24 May : “Hello from Ceduna. My bike is starting to get tired so I will have to stay in this god-forsaken town until it has been given a little T.L.C. Shouldn’t take too long ! If you all look at your maps of Australia which you obviously have open in front of you so you can follow my every move you will see Ceduna situated to the west of the Eyre Peninsula. From here over to Perth I will be crossing the Nullabor – I will also be cycling on the longest straight section of road in the world. I think it is about 140kms without even the slightest kink… take a photo to prove it.

The wind was a bastard most of the way around the Eyre Peninsula- it is harder than cycling uphill, as you never get a moments rest ! I met a couple of interesting-eccentric characters on the way round. The first was a travelling vacuum cleaner salesman and the second a Professor from the Sorbonne in Paris – he seemed to have a brilliant mind for most things but when I mentioned the F.A. CUP FINAL taking place in Cardiff on may 22nd he was totally bemused !”

14 June : “Hi all – Rex Hunt here or is it Greg Norman ? Still in sunny, windy & rainy Esperance and loving the rest. Went fishing the other day with the hostel owner and a Japanese chap. It was sunny windy and rainy but it did not stop us catching a few tiddlers. I myself caught three fish; my first ever, and a few were caught by the other two amateurs ! Back at the hostel I learned the art of scaling, gutting and filleting fish. It was then down to cooking and eating everything between us… I left the cooking to Katsuo (the Japanese fellow) I did the washing up but the fish was bloody brilliant.

Yesterday I joined a group of five others for a round of golf in the ‘ESPERANCE BACKPACKERS INVITATIONAL’ at the Pink Lake Golf Club. The criteria for being invited – you had to be bloody useless at golf ! We bought two crates of beer, hired two golf buggies then headed for hole number one. We managed five holes and ten beers each in three hours. For holes one to five my scoring was as follows : hole one par five – 17, hole two par five – 12, hole three par three – 5, hole four par four – 8 and hole five par four – 6. My favourite clubs were a five wood and a putter, with which I hardly ever got the ball off the ground as I zigzagged my way to every hole. The rain and the light put paid to completing the eighteen holes..

This morning I woke up with a headache so decided another rest day was needed… have been the bloody pizza I ate. Will move on from here tomorrow I think and should take about two weeks to reach Perth. I will expect to receive many e-mails – those of you who have not written I think it is about time you did… Enjoy ! PS – Bloody lucky French”

… map of Martin’s progress…

To contact Martin for a chat, a question or to discuss anything he’s talked about on his journey email him on eggodyssey@yahoo.co.uk. After all Martin & his travel adventures are what the club is about and it feels worth supporting him…

Report by:Matt Doughty

As soon as we got the plane in Tokyo we were off to Narita to see the temples. Did some intense travelling for the next three days in Tokyo including Nikko and Kamakura. Nikko is a wonderful mystical place. The bad news is that I don’t have any pictures of it as it was too misty and, horror of horrors, my camcorder battery was flat – after many years this nightmare came true! -but this only adds magic to the place. I started using the bullet train on a Monday and we have no time to stop and doodle about so we have got to make everyday count, as the seven day pass rounds out on Sunday.

Then went to Hiroshima and visited the peace dome memorial by moonlight after we got into town around 9 pm. Made an early morning start the next day, around 6.30 am and went to Miyajima island which has the floating gate as shown in thousand of pictures as poster of Japan. I wanted to take to Nagasaki, but there was not enough time because there are no bullet trains to get there. We will now go to Kagoshima and check out the volcanoes there. It’s worth knowing that there is free internet access at the Hiroshima international convention peace centre. I have to be in Kyoto by Sunday night when the rail pass runs out.

I adore this place – loos (washrooms) everywhere, spotlessly clean and fast and frequent trains and escalators that simply work. We experienced the rush hour in Tokyo and it is not as half as bad as trying to use the Victoria line in London! Living in London prepares you well for Japan and it is much cheaper too!!!

Now on the island of Shikoku. It is fairly rural and not many tourist come this way. We went to Matsumaya on the West coast and got here to Tokushima on the East coast. This is the place to start if you want to do the 88 sacred temple circuit. We have done the first temple and we will do the remaining at another time to reach Nirvana. Shortly leaving for Kyoto and rail passes expires there. I plan to spend my last day in Osaka, looking for electrical bargains. My travelling companion wants an electrically heated loo seat! I am not up on such hi tech comfort gadgets.

We are sorry to say that Mac is not very well, but he is still e-mailing strong and recently sent the Beetle a collection of Mac reminiscences about some of his travels around India in 1992.

One of the joys of travelling for me by rail in India second class air conditioned was that I met so many fellow Indian travellers. There is something about long train rides that people tell you stories they perhaps would not if they thought they would see you again. ï¿Â½The High Sheriff of Calcutta told me of some of his dealings with Nehru. ï¿Â½When Nehru would bring VIPs to Calcutta it was part of the High Sheriffs job to kind of be a tour guide. ï¿Â½He told me that Nehru was a woman chaser and made some amazing conquests. ï¿Â½I don’t know if this is true or the High Sheriff was trying to impress me. One story he told was of a world famous violinist and his wife that Nehru was showing around the horticulture gardens or park. He told the wife that he wanted to show her something and took her with him away from the High Sheriff and the husband. The High Sheriff told me he was furious with Nehru for leaving him to distract the husband. Have you seen this plant Sir etc.

According to him Nehru did a lot for the country but also a lot for Indian women. Maybe he was imitating our President Kennedy and maybe this was all gossip.

Some of the Indians liked to gossip. ï¿Â½Another Indian told me that Nehru and Mountbatten’s wife had something going. More gossip?ï¿Â½ The lady architect that I met when I asked her if she had trouble getting architectural work as a lady architect told me that most of the architectural jobs she got was from family friends.

The Indian Army officer I met on train who later showed me around Agra was a Sikh. There are many Sikhs in the Indian Army. While Sikhs in the Indian Army can wear their turbans, beards etc this Sikh for some reason did not. I don’t know why he was the exception. He told me that those in the Indian Army get more leave than we do. He said this was because some had to travel great distances to get back to their home.

I seemed to be always meeting Indian Military on the trains.ï¿Â½ One asked me what unit I had been in in WWII. ï¿Â½I told him that he probably would not have heard of it as we did not get much publicity and disbanded after the War. So when I did tell him he laughed and said: “Oh in training we studied your mistakes!” I did not know that we were that well known or that we made mistakes. Ha!

One of the reasons I preferred 2nd class air-conditioned to First Class was that I felt it was safer. In First Class, the conductors seemed to disappear and in one case religious pilgrims came aboard without tickets and took over the compartments. It was their country, and I was not going to argue with them. In 2nd Class air conditioned the fellow travellers seemed to kind of look after me. ï¿Â½Kind of adopted me. ï¿Â½And I heard some fascinating stories. ï¿Â½Whether they were true of not, I don’t know, but it made the time go faster.ï¿Â½ I at first did not know that you were suppose to order your meals ahead of time and somewhere down the line at a future train stop they were brought aboard. ï¿Â½I always ordered vegetarian meals as I did not trust the meat. When some Indian travellers found out that I did not know the ropes on this so several ordered for me not letting me know and they did not know others had also ordered so at the next stop coolies came with several trays of meals for me. Ha!

They had a ring on the floor and the Indians carried small chains and padlocks that they attached their luggage to these rings when they were asleep. I was constantly learning from them. I actually got letters from some I met on the train that I received later in the States and one Army Indian Colonel later came to the Pentagon and phoned out here but I did not get the message until it was too late. He was a Lawler and a Sikh and he had made me an honorary Sikh.

If you would like to contact Mac, he is happy to answer e-mails: macsan400@yahoo.com

Many people write in to ask us about how they go about finding information on volunteering overseas. The following link is an excellent resource which allows you to say what type of volunteering programme you’d like to do, e.g. study languages, intern, eco-adventures, then you are taken to a screen to input preferred regions and country (if you have a preference), type of volunteering and duration. Take a look at: http://www.volunteerabroad.com/search.cfm

In the meantime, here are a couple of volunteer positions in Quito, Ecuador and another in Ghana.

Santa Martha Rescue Centre in Quito, Ecuador is a sanctuary for animals rescued from traffickers and other poor circumstances. Volunteers can care for wild animals confiscated from illegal zoos, homes and other illegal situations. The work includes gathering food for the animals, feeding, cleaning and repairing cages, building new cages, landscaping cages to make them more like the animal’s natural habitat, assisting in the rehabilitation of animals for liberation and medical care of sick or injured animals, as well as the transport of animals. The more exceptional duties include animal rescue missions, aided with the help of the police. If you are interested, email: santamartha@mail.com for more information.

Hosteria San Jorge Ecolodge located outside Quito, Ecuador is a former traditional Ecuadorian farm, now focusing on conservation. The Hosteria has over 25 rooms and facilities for conferences and a botanical reserve of over 30 hectares that is being used for conservation purposes. The Hosteria offers hiking, camping, biking, horseback riding and mountain biking on both the Reserve and surrounding areas. The Hosteria is in the process of replanting native species and identifying all native birds of the Reserve. It has a range of needs from helping to identify birds species, cataloguing native plants and trees, helping to develop and implement eco-tourism projects, physical improvements to the grounds, biological research projects, assisting with guests, assisting with tours and administering the web site. Projects will be developed with the skills of the volunteer and the time they can offer. Volunteers will be expected to work 8 hours per day. www.eco-lodgesanjorge.com. Email them.

Cultural exchange, home stay, small group general tours, traditional drumming and dances, teaching assistant, environmental preservation opportunities and many more for a period of 4 to 52 weeks in Ghana. ebensten@yahoo.com or see our website: World Voices

Top 10 Countries by Murder by Capita of Population   Ã¯Ã‚¿Ã‚½ Country Description Amount  1. Colombia 0.63 per 1000 people   2. South Africa 0.51 per 1000 people   3. Jamaica 0.32 per 1000 people   4. Venezuela 0.32 per 1000 people   5. Russia 0.19 per 1000 people   6. Mexico 0.13 per 1000 people   7. Lithuania 0.10 per 1000 people   8. Estonia 0.10 per 1000 people   9. Latvia 0.10 per 1000 people   10. Belarus 0.09 per 1000 people

Continuing for this table: in 11th Place, Ukraine, 12th, Papua New Guinea, 13th, Kyrgyzstan, 14th, Thailand, 15th, Moldova. 16th, Zambia, 17th, Seychelles,ï¿Â½ 18th, Zimbabwe, 19th, Costa Rica, 20th, Poland.ï¿Â½

The USA appears in 24th position at 0.04, Canada, 44th with 0.01 and the UK in 46th position with 0.01 per 1,000 people respectively.

The top five countries with the least number of murders per 1,000 head of population appear to be Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Japan, Hong Kong and Greece.

Source: http://www.nationmaster.com/country-info/stats/Crime/Murders/Per-capita

It has been nearly four years since I was last in Mikindani, Southern Tanzania, and six years since my initial involvement with Trade Aid, so to be able to return and see the changes to the village and its inhabitants is a real privilege. Of course, being Africa, the changes are slow to come about, and much of the “progress” is in areas that I would never even have considered.

Seeing the Boma, (see photo by the Beetle,) now a fully restored small hotel is even more amazing than any of the photos I had seen, such a dramatic transformation from the derelict building here on my arrival, which was only just nearing completion when I returned for the millennium festivities. It now stands in grounds surrounded by all manner of vibrant vegetation, attracting varied animal life – from butterflies to lizards to the occasional monkey.

As the various groups of volunteers have ventured further into the depths of Mikindani, new places to visit have been discovered while it would appear that some of the old haunts have been forgotten. Maybe our fickle tastes mean that even here, where the choices for evening entertainment are limited, there are places to be seen, as well as those that have fallen from favour.

Perhaps the most surprising addition to the village and the area in general is the curse of the mobile phone. Vodaphone and Orange have spread their wings wide enough to mean there is just no escaping contact from the outside world. Not that I should complain too much, as without a phone I would not have been able to keep up to date with the rugby scores as they unfolded! Internet cafes have sprung up in Mtwara, the “information highway” is now fully accessible, while rutted mud tracks still link adjacent villages.

Some things have however, remained the same: the beauty of the village, the smiling faces on the children, the overwhelming generosity in the face of poverty, the sounds, the smells (some of them anyway!). It is these things, and countless more, that combine to continue drawing me, and many others, back. It will hopefully not be too long before I am able to return and see the next stage of evolution.

For more information about Trade Aid, their work or being a volunteer in Mikindani, see: http://www.tradeaiduk.org/ or if you would like to stay at the Boma Hotel, see: http://www.mikindani.com/accommodation.html The Beetle can recommend it as a wonderful experience.

The ringing of metal hitting metal in the early evening sunshine rang across the stillness of the Fiord as we moored for the first night on our Norwegian sailing trip. Driving a steel stake into the rock that had a ring attached allowed one to pass a warp through the ring and back to a cleat on the boat – Thus enabling any one to explore the shore easily by just jumping on to the rocks from the bow or stern, have a BBQ or merely to stretch their legs in the evening after a day at sea. The locals used this way of mooring up for the afternoon or night, and this was only possible because of the lack of tides in this part of the world. This was a very pleasant surprise after the difficulties with tides and mooring in the UK.

We had set out in ‘Turid’ a 35 ft Halberg Sailing sloop, from Kragero in the south of the country to enjoy a few days break from tackling the stresses and strains of life in London. The Norwegian Skipper had an old 1780’s house overlooking his mooring and was just back from sailing round Greece. David and I have been friends since way back when we were nearly young. He has a wooden Folk boat on the south coast of England and I once had a four berth sailing cruiser moored in Conway. The second piece of luck was that as we boarded the sun came out and for the rest of the trip we had sunshine until about 2130 hours at night with a temperature of 26 degrees Centigrade at sea during the day. People expect it to be cold but in the summer this place can be extremely warm, in fact the week after we left the temperature rose another five degrees.

We started our trip around this wonderful coast with fir trees on the rocks and the houses right on the waterside. Rocks and inlets all around the place, so be careful if you’re not with a local skipper who has a good knowledge of the area. It seemed that everyone in Norway had some sort of boat and they were all making the most of the summer either in their holiday homes right by the sea or on the water.

The cost of beer or wine is so expensive in Norway, that I had brought a three Litre box of red wine to be used on the boat. The Skipper who had started life in the Galley of a cargo ship in his country’s merchant marine had just finished cooking up our evening meal after a long day at sea – This was the moment that my friend David told me he had forgotten the wine on shore! So like it or not we went on the wagon! Except for a thimbleful of whiskey that we had every time we anchored for the night, this was a Norwegian custom called Ankerdram, and we definitely decided that this was one custom that needed to be kept up.

We only docked to take on provisions, but we still had time to visit some of the excellent little ports – Risor, Arendal, Grimstad to name but three. Grimstad was my favourite with some of its wooden houses, in the old town, going back to 1729. I even encountered two Dutch cycle campers that were on a cycle way that took in six north European countries.

The only things I needed to take was my ‘Tilley Hat’ to cover my ears from the hot sun, a pair of ‘Ecco’ deck shoes and a boat or beach mesh bag that was great for carrying wet things as well as food etc. Norwegian money was needed as it was very rare that they took foreign credit cards, though Euros could be changed very easily. An inexpensive holiday in an expensive place but thanks to friends with a boat and a cheap return flight with Ryanair it became a great short holiday break.

The good thing about south Norway was the warm, sunny weather and the wind at about Force 4 – If anything we could have done with more wind. Houses by the waters edge, fir trees behind and moorings in your back garden are great but for me, some of the Fiords that we visited by boat, dropped anchor for the night and watched the sun go down were fantastic.

Which countries are represented by these flags? For the answers, see at the end of the eNews.

1	2	3	4	5

All long-distance buses seem to have termini fairly near the Central Station [trains]. Outside this there is a massive square where most local buses start and from the other side there are roads into the centre, of which the Via Roma is the widest. The place where I stayed is just to the left of the Via Roma [third turn] and is visible from it. This is the Rosalia Conco d’Oro, completely unprepossessing from outside but secure, snug, clean, comfortable and friendly inside and with a lift to the third floor reception and rooms. Toilets and showers are shared but I never had to wait.

A small but useful tip for the first time visitor is to buy a ticket valid for twenty-four hours on local buses from the bookshop on the station before you leave that area, as a lot of tobacconists only have one hour tickets. Another is not to think of travelling without a ticket; three times while I was there a pack of three inspectors got into a bus I was on and all doors are locked until they have done their business.

The Museo Archeologico Regionale is not a purpose built edifice like the national museum in Agrigento but the building itself has an interesting history, first as a convent and then as an almost ruined bombing target of the second world war. It is the Greek remains, again, which provide the main interest and for anyone who has come from or is going on to Selinunte, the sala de Selinunte is a must with its collection of stone carvings from the numerous temples there. The top floor has a very fine mosaic, Roman from the third century AD, of Orpheus playing a lyre and surrounded by animals.

Two places in Palermo disappointed me a little, one because it does not live up to the hype and the other because Italian and mock Italian furniture and artefacts are so common in Europe generally. This second was the Palazzo Mirto, an eighteenth century building which has much original furniture.. The other is La Zisa, built in the twelfth century along North African lines. It now contains a good collection of Muslim art. If I had simply expected this, I should have been far more impressed than I was. Local attempts to liken it to the Moorish remains in Andalucia are absurd.

The next place described could present a dilemma for those with children. It could really excite and fascinate or it could frighten and cause bad dreams for years to come. If you are uncertain, please give it a miss! This is the Convento dei Cappucchini, reached by bus from the Piazza del’ Indepenza. This is an abode of Skeletons, many of which are clothed and standing. Right up to the late nineteenth century, wealthy people would make bequests or their relatives would pay for them to be placed there. Division is by sex, status and occupation. There are numerous skeletons of little children and one which can really shock. This is an amazing figure of a two-year old who looks almost as though she could wake up at any time, except that she does not breathe. She died in the 1920’s and was treated with a special embalming process by a doctor whose secret died with him I am not particularly given to fantasy but the skeletons’ appearance of grinning seems to increase as you stay longer. I was not sorry to leave; a strange experience.

A last expedition at Palermo involved a bus trip from quite near the prestigious national theatre. This was to Monte Pellegrino and the ride is stupendous, twisting up through forest with outstanding views to sea and a fine view of a beach to the west of the mountain. The bus stops near the top in a huge car park where there were various stalls set out, mostly selling the most revolting tat. The shrine, the supposed magnet for the trip had no appeal to me at all. Twenty minutes spent waiting for the bus to return, however, was but a small price to pay for the ride up and down.

After two nights, and visits to the archaeology museum and a market on the morning after, I used the train for the first time in Sicily to reach Cefalù.

David was a keen walker, particularly on mountains before he developed serious heart problems in 1995. He has now adapted his holidays to what he is able to do and we are presenting his account of 12 days in Sicily over this and the coming months. Next two episodes: Palermo.

Next episode – Cefalù, Castelbuono and Milazzo

I arrived in the Guatemalan mountain town of Todosantos Chuchumantan hoping to improve my Spanish. Some hours after my first lesson, my teacher’s brother was shot dead by a local police officer. The dead man turned out to have been the head of a local gang – the next morning the entire town police force fled in fear of lynching. As the town began the preparations for its annual horse racing fiesta, preparations mainly involving getting fantastically drunk, the infamous Guatemalan army rolled in to keep the order. That weekend, six other people would die, and the host family I was living with would fall into crisis when the father punched his wife in the face. Todosantos was a town of welcoming, curious people, with great pride in their Indigenous Mayan traditions, surrounded by stunning mountains, and full of happy children who would shout, “Hola, Daniel!” whenever I passed their house. Despite the sometimes-terrifying events that took place, it remains my favourite place in Guatemala.

Friday, 31st October 2003: I wake to find my language teacher’s brother dead and my host family distraught at the news. The family are pure indigenous Guatemalans – the rather diminutive mother and four daughters have fantastically long blue-black hair. Everyone in Todosantos wears the same clothes – the traditional blue woven dress for the women; red trousers and white shirt with a huge red, purple or green collar for the men. They speak Spanish to me, and the Mayan alien-sounding “Mam” language to each other. The two youngest daughters, the sweet Juana (age ten) and the bubbly Melissa (age nine) are my main Spanish conversation partners. Without much apparent direction or scolding, the daughters cook meals, tend the log fired stove, wash vast amounts of clothes and blankets, sweep, wash the floors, and weave in their spare time. One magical evening, with everyone else out in the family shop, I watch Juana sit singing to herself while Melissa cooks a simple meal for about seven people.

By Friday afternoon, the three-man marimba bands have begun in earnest, as has the drinking. One of my neighbours is taking part in tomorrow’s fiesta, decked in sashes and a tall hat, he dances as much as his whisky brain will allow. He and his friends drink all night.

That night, an old man drinks himself to death and a young man dies from a knife wound – why, no one knows.

Saturday, 1st November 2003: I wake up at six am – my horse-racing neighbour is unconscious lying face down in the mud. By eight am, his friends have revived him and seated him on a horse – he is led across town to the racetrack.

The Todosantos horse race fiesta is not actually a race at all. There are no winners, the aim is to ride one’s horse all day back and forth along the two hundred-metre track, taking a drink at each end. At lunchtime there is a break for more drinking, then the race begins afresh in the afternoon. Already by eight am, the riders are already very drunk and many have not slept at all – as the day goes on, their eyes become mirrors and many ride swaying back in their saddle, arms outstretched at their sides. During the race, one man falls from his horse and is trampled to death – many riders finish the day proudly wounded.

That night, my friends and I go to the town’s annual fiesta disco: tourists and locals dance in a huge cold hall while a semi circle of twelve assault rifled soldiers watch impassively. Early the next morning, a man lying in the street is killed when the arriving bus runs over his sleeping head.

The remaining deaths discovered that weekend were less well documented – rumour and counter rumour were so widespread it was hard for me to know what was real. Many attendees of the fiesta were making their annual return to the town from their jobs in the United States – stories spread of old scores and inexplicably pregnant wives dealt with violently.

Monday, 3rd November: I wake to find my host family’s house turned black. The husband Augusto has drunkenly punched his wife Dominga, her face is swollen and left eye turned red.

I try to decide what to do. After taking advice from the long-term foreign residents of the town, I decide to move out, to send a message to Augusto and to avoid getting involved in any violence from him. I move out to a “Ladino” (as opposing to Indigenous) family, who drink Pepsi and power their stove with gas instead of logs. The sense of rejoining the cold West is jarring.

I had, and still have, little idea what the correct moral decision would have been in a situation like this. But I was missing the girls too much, the new family I was assigned to weren’t that keen on me – so after a few days I moved back in with Dominga and her daughters. As before, Augusto spent most nights sleeping in the family’s shop further up the hill, so I rarely saw him, but suspect it didn’t even occur to him why I’d left the house for a while.

My last week in Todosantos, I worked in the language school, doing the job of the day manager while he took a break to Lake Atitlan. I shopped among the Todosanteros for bread and light bulbs, organised a big meal for all the foreign residents, and arranged teachers and host families for any new students. It was great to interact with the ever-friendly people of the town on a deeper, less-touristy level. I would have come back to the town to do the language school job full time – the current school co-ordinator was leaving in February – but a month later discovered that they had given it to someone else, and so my travels around the world continued.

Daniel’s travels continue at http://blogs.bootsnall.com/dw

If you enjoy writing, enjoy travelling, why not write for the free monthly Globetrotters eNewsletter! The Beetle would love to hear from you: your travel stories, anecdotes, jokes, questions, hints and tips, or your hometown or somewhere of special interest to you. Over 8,000 people currently subscribe to the Globetrotter eNews.

To see your story in cyber print, e-mail the Beetle with your travel experiences, hints and tips or questions up to 750 words, together with a couple of sentences about yourself and a contact e-mail address to Beetle@globetrotters.co.uk

For more information about the Texas Branch: please contact texas@globetrotters.co.uk or register for email updates at our website (click here) or call Christina at 830-620-5482

If anybody would like to enquire about meetings or help Christina, please contact her on: texas@globetrotters.co.uk

For information on Ontario meetings, please contact Svatka Hermanek: shermanek@schulich.yorku.ca or Bruce Weber: tel. 416-203-0911 or Paul Webb: tel. 416-694-8259.

Meetings are held on the third Friday of January, March, May, September and November. Usually at the Woodsworth Co-op, Penthouse, 133, Wilton Street in downtown Toronto at 8.00 p.m.

There will be no July and August meetings, but back in the Fall, with a new format!

For details of forthcoming meetings email newyork@globetrotters.co.uk or register for email updates, click here at our website.

New York meetings are held at The Wings Theatre, 154 Christopher Street (btw Greenwich St and Washington St ), to the right of Crunch Fitness, in the Archive on the first Saturday of each month at 4 pm . Admission $8, non members, $10.

Saturday 3^rd July

This month was the opportunity for the clubs members to show their slides to their fellow Globies. It was also our first meeting where we could try out our new digital projector, many thanks to Paul for making the technical side of the meeting run so smoothly.

We started off with six members giving traditional slide shows, Dan Bachmann kicked off with a talk on the island of Santorini. He was followed by Mike Dodd, who was the first recipient of the Globetrotters Legacy Award, Mike’s slides showed us a small part of his trip to South East Asia. Ernest Flesch showed us his Russian trip from Moscow to St Petersburg. We headed into Asia again with Phil Ferguson’s trip to the mountain kingdom of Bhutan. Across to Africa for Jeanie Copland’s walking trip to Morocco, taking in Berber villages and Marrakech. Last before the break was Helen Barnhill, who showed us faces of Angkor Wat, both human and stone.

The second half of the meeting saw the debut of our new digital projector as Dick Curtis kicked off with a geographical quiz. Tracey Murray took us to Texas and the spectacular Big Bend National Park. Nick Preston showed us Iguaçu Falls from both the Argentinean and Brazilian sides ending with a wonderful shot of the falls during El Nino. Japan was our next destination, as Francesca Jaggs described her retreat trip to the Shinto temples near Kyoto. We stayed in Japan for our next speaker, but this time to the southern Island of Kyushu as Kevin Brackley showed us the volcanoes and towns of the island. And finally Dick Curtis showed us some of the quirky architecture of Brescia in Italy. While the second half speakers had been talking the results of the quiz had been worked out, congratulations to Anne Dodd who won first prize. Many thanks to all the Globies who took the time to prepare and give us a great afternoon.

By Padmassana

London meetings are held at The Church of Scotland, Crown Court, behind the Fortune Theatre in Covent Garden at 2.30pm the first Saturday of each month. There is no London meeting in August, but we will be back in September. For more information, you can contact the Globetrotters Info line on +44 (0) 20 8674 6229, or visit the website: www.globetrotters.co.uk Admission members £2, non members £4.

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