So I survived Mexico without any major disasters, despite the warnings from the media and my favourite worry-worts travel page: the British foreign office travel advice (you can look up any country you like there and conclude that it’s far too dangerous and really you’re better off staying at home, in bed, with the curtains firmly drawn).
Anyway I didn’t get kidnapped or shot in a gangland execution and the month went by unbelievably fast.
I met some interesting people: a couple of my hosts on airbnb were particularly inspiring and my head is now buzzing with ideas.
Then there was the man who told me I was probably travelling because ‘you’ve given up on meeting a man’. Well I’ve been backpacking since I was nineteen, so either I gave up really early or, maybe (bizarre thought), I just like travelling. But good to know that I’ve become a stereotype in the eyes of the Machismo Mexican Male: can’t get a man so she straps on a backpack, calls herself a ‘free spirit’ and wanders the planet.
This portion of the trip signifies the end of the fast travel. I’m tired, and the whole digital nomad thing doesn’t work when you’re moving on every few days, and constantly searching for a reliable internet connection. The next segment of my adventure involves me selecting a place that I fancy settling for a while (no, I still haven’t even decided that part yet) and slowing down.
Anyway I have a few weeks to think about it. I am now in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, where I am attending the TBEX travel bloggers conference, which starts in a few days.