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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

Many cities run free and personal tours. These are usually run by volunteer friends, and not professional tour guides but are local people who are happy to show visitors the usual and unusual aspects of their city. A selection of these tours are as follows:

New York City: www.bigapplegreeter.org www.centralparknyc.org

Chicago: www.chicagogreeter.com

San Francisco: www.sfcityguides.org

Australia: Melbourne: http://www.worldtourism.com.au

Adelaide: http://www.bugaustralia.com/

Japan: http://www.jnto.go.jp

Korea: http://english.tour2korea.com

Jamaica: http://www.visitjamaica.com

Bahamas: www.bahamas.co.uk

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