HONEST REPORTS, DAY BY DAY FROM QUARANTINE HOTEL, HOLIDAY INN HEATHROW OR THE QUARANTINE ‘HOTELS’ ARE NO BETTER THAN HIGH SECURITY PRISONS. This will all be released when I am so the full account of […]
THE MATURE ART OF TRAVELLING ALONE. MY NEW EMAIL IS: OldBirdTravels@proton.me PLEASE LIKE AND SHARE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST!
Category: JOURNALS OF TRAVEL
Truthful quotes from my journals Accounts from my handwritten diaries en route.
YES IT’S ME! QUICK VIDEO OF MAD OLD BIRD.
Wrinkled old bat makes comeback! OVER AND OUT BABY!
AWOL OLD BIRD? I’M COMING BACK FOLKS!
Nearly out of prison! Get ready for full expose of the ‘QUARANTINE HOTELS’
STILL IN MEXICO.
I’ll add more later but I want to get out while I still can and the dark thoughts enter my head again. Love you all.
LAGOONS AND PRETTY FISH.
What they don’t tell you is that it’s miles from the highway. So daring Dan here negotiated for a ride there after buying an ice cold bottle of water and got myself a motorbike ride.
A FISHERMANS TALE.
There’s no doubt I am a beach bum and a slob. I neglect my normal toilet regime, smoke and drink like an old lush journalist and let the dog lick my face after eating.
EK BALAM. PYRAMID OF ANGELS.
OR, FLYING FREE AGAIN JUST FOR THE DAY. MAKING DECISIONS AWAY FROM TULUM.
Been very unsure what to do next. Return to UK where my new house is finally ready, or go to Oaxaca or Veracruz. Both are far and really need to been part flight from either Merida or Chetumal. So I went for the second time yesterday to the french patisserie to work. It was a stroke of luck. Not only is Giles, who works there a like minded (we had a long political chat), but he came up with a site for me to visit that I’d never heard of, Ek Balam. The site of the pyramid of the angels. Thank god, a decent bit of nearby archaeology.
Share this:
CHAAC THE MAYAN GOD OF RAIN. (AND THE FOUR CARDINAL POINTS.
I worship you Chaac. It rained after.
WALKABOUT IN THE REMOTE FISHING VILLAGE OF PUNTA ALLEN.
OR, ALL THROUGH THE VILLAGE TO THE LAGOON AND MORE.
Share this:
CACTI AND SALT FLATS IN THE MOUNTAINS…BY MOTORBIKE!
OR THE OLD BIRD GETS PUSHED TO HER LIMITS BY GOING UP AND DOWN SHEER MOUNTAIN TRACKS .
I arrived in Tehuacán exhausted and burnt out and had done nothing for days once I found the museums and site which I specifically travelled here for were all closed. I had allowed myself a meltdown, a collapse if you will. I had stayed in my room just sneaking out for food and drinks. I was absolutely broken. Then as usual, I shook myself down and got myself a sort of improvised tour.
ZAPOTITLAN SALINAS
Reception told me that the guide knew the area well and just because the gardens were closed there were plenty of other paths with exactly the same types of flora. The botanical gardens were just a more tarted up area of the same old, same old. As it transpired they were right so I got myself a bus and headed out of town to Zapotitlan. As soon as I got on that bus I was straight back into adventure mode, my agoraphobia melted and I was ready for action. The bus driver dumped me at the edge of the road and I walked back to the Zapotitlan letters in a mist of fine powder and exhaust smoke.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 