- I’m Riding My Motorcycle to Argentina
- Official Press Release – Traveling Off the Grid, on YouTube
- Preparing the KLR before my Latin America trip
- What to take on a year long motorcycle trip
- My First Day on the Road
- YouTube Video Map
- Blogging Lacking But Video Logging Booming!
- After 40 Days on the Road
- Mexico City’s Killing Me
- The Journey Begins
- Chicago via Denver and St. Louis
- Leaving Chicago Behind
- My First Couch Surfing Experience
- Video of Mexican Police Shaking Me Down
- Interview With Overland Expo
- Entering Into Mexico – Extortion and Inviting Hosts
- News Coverage Over Extortion Video
- Leaving Mexico and Entering Guatemala
- Twisty Roads, City Labyrinth and a Dog Bite
- Unmaintained Motorcycles, Serendipitous Lodging and My Love Affair with Andre
- Lingering Paranoia and Meeting Another Solo Traveler
- Bug Zapper Skills
- Riding Beemers, Replacing Helmet, and Cricket Tacos
- How to be Alone
- Mexican Bus Ride, Riot Police and Church Irony
- Survivor’s Guilt, a Shift in Perspective and the Overrated Mind
- Catching Up: Real De Catorce, Mexico
- Truck Blocking the Road, Guatemala
- The Schizophrenic Bolivian Vagabond [Day 178]
- Couch Surfing in San Jose, Costa Rica [Day 108]
- The Water Filled Vodka Bottle – San Jose, Costa Rica [Day 110]
- Creatures Stirring on Christmas Eve, Playa las Lajas, Panama [Day 125]
- Video Trio: Honduras Traffic, Mayan Temple Climbing, & Nalgene Hack
As I wander the streets of Guanajuato, Mexico I stop at the bakery shops that litter the city. For the majority of the day I would walk around with my hat on. At times for utility, but mostly for the sake of obscurity. I don’t like attention and my pale skin, ginger hair and beard tend to attrach a lot. It becomes uncomfortable for me after a while so eventually I let my colors show. Let the people see me. A tourist, a gringo…a mark. My paranoia was still lingering. My self consciousness still brewing. This all would pass eventually. Simple exposure therapy (wiki).
I was wandering around and happened to see the same girl who caught my eye hours before. She was a solo traveler like me. I could tell by the way she was walking earlier. The pace not brisk nor sluggish. Just taking the ambience in of the city, but not lingering on any one sight, sound or smell for want of the next.
I’m always intrieged by other solo travelers, especially women, in just a Platonic way…unless certain characteristics are present She was a fellow pale person, who perhaps spoke English. I hadn’t had a coherent conversation in days. I sat down from a bench near her, then I mustered up the strength to approach her and ask if I could sit down on her bench. She insisted with a smile. I said, “I’m sorry my Spanish sucks, do you speak Enlish”. She laughed and confirmed my hope. She was British, traveling throughout Central and South America by bus. We swapped war stories from the road. She was given some advice from some friends regarding counterfeit Columbian cops. If their boots are rubber, they’re guirella’s, but if they are leather then they are legit. The advice was hardly helpful given that if you have the opportunity to detect their boot material, it’s probably not the right moment for an escape.
I was leaving the next day and Hanna and I agreed to meet for breakfest before I shoved off.