Here endeth this blog

Warm greetings, dear readers, and apologies that this my final instalment is so late coming.  

Our final day in Guatemala was eventful, and the journey back to reality rather longer than expected.

It feels like months ago when I awoke to our final Guatemalan morning, but it was only a few hours.  I say 'a few' in the Guatemalan sense, as it was, perhaps, two days ago now.  As mentioned, time differences perplex me.  I can't even handle the 'spring forward, fall over' changing of the clocks here, so the whole concept of time travelling, and arriving before you've left is beyond me.  I don't really get seasons.  It's usually cold in the UK, so it is hard to tell which season it is meant to be.  Or there's an unexpected heatwave, the railway tracks melt, the public complain and we can't cope.  We can't seem to cope with snow either.  Anyway, enough about all that, back to our extremely long last day.

I was intent on going swimming at the rather swish hotel we were staying at in Guatemala City, so at 6.45am, I bounced along to Gill and Zoë's room, where they were making full use of the complimentary bathrobes and slippers.  Down we went to the outdoor pool.  It was like swimming in a warm bath and was simply perfect, as was the jacuzzi.  Post-breakfast, we checked-out and bundled into our minibus, with Manuel our guide and Saolo, our driver, who has driven us hundreds of miles around Guatemala, this fascinating country.

We drove around the city, learning about how it is all divided up into zones, looking at which zones were predominantly residential, where the big businesses were located, seeing the slum areas, the largest of which is known as 'Limonade', which Manuel informs us, means 'lemonade, like the drink', but no-one is quite sure why.

We stopped at the main square and went into one final church for a short tour.  Afterwards, we had an unfortunate incident where one of our group had a chain snatched from her neck.  In a split second, whilst we were crossing the road, in that anxious-tourist manner, when one's guard is down, some chancer ripped the chain from her neck and was gone before we had even realised what had happened.  This was extremely unfortunate as Manuel was in the process of saying how important it is to stay together as a group.  The chain had great sentimental value and was irreplaceable.  But, to be fair, this incident could have happened in Plumstead, Old Street, just about anywhere in the world.  So if you are thinking of travelling to Guatemala, don't let this put you off.  Much worse things happen, and really, the only thing which matters, is life.  I've been mugged in the past, in Ghana, in 2002, which freaked me out, especially as they got my passport; but I got a shiny new one within a week or so, with the place of issue listed as 'British High Commission Accra', which was quite quirky.  The last time I stowed a bag above my head in a bus, I never saw it again - that was in Mombasa - so I don't store things there any more.  

We went to the ministry of something-or-other, where we obtained a crime number so that our group member can make an insurance claim.  We couldn't do more as there is no way the chain would be found.

I was extremely hungry and I planned to ask Manuel, with Gill's help, in my best Spanish, when we were going to stop and eat.  I asked this, but unfortunately I asked when we were going to stop and smoke, rather than stop and eat, as the verbs sound quite similar.  Manuel said that my pronunciation was great, even if what I had said wasn't what I intended.  Story of my life.

We lunched in a shopping mall, which could quite easily have been Bluewater.  All the multinationals were there - every conceivable sports brand, fast food chains.  I sat munching a chicken salad from Pollo Campero, Guatemala's fast food chicken shop which can be found across the country, reflecting on the surreal nature of the shopping centre experience - the gap between rich and poor is immense here, as it is everywhere else, like London.  And this gap only ever seems to get bigger.  

It was sad saying goodbye to Manuel. He had looked after us throughout our stay, ferried us around to restaurants, churches, ruins, hotels, churches, ruins, toilets, churches, ruins, cafes, churches, ruins, gardens, churches, ruins, coffee plantations, churches, ruins, ATMs, churches and ruins.  Did I mention the churches and ruins? He is clearly proud to be Guatemalan and was pleased to show us his country.  He was very embarrassed by the robbery, even more so because it happened a few feet away from him.

So we said goodbye and bundled into the airport, changing into our trip polo shirts, which we dutifully wore all the way home.  We flew to El Salvador (I think I've met her), for reasons unbeknown to man or woman for that matter.  Once there, I was intent on finding a glass bottle of Coca Cola (see previous posts on this important topic), as it would have 'El Salvador' written on the rim.  Pip was up for this challenge, so off went in search of this priceless artefact.  Fact: there is one place at this airport where they sell Coke in glass bottles.  A bar.  A bar, which was just about to close.  But I could see the glass bottle in the fridge! We pretty much begged the man for even just the lid, not even the liquid, I mean, let's face it, when am I going to be in El Salvador again? Probably on the 12th, 12th of Never.  This was my only chance.  As I stood there looking totally pathetic, the man relented, fetched an opener, charged me $2, gave me the lid and poured the Coke into a plastic cup, which Pip and I shared in celebration! Mission accomplished.  

Meanwhile, back at Gate 9, the troops were mustering.  The flight to Madrid was scheduled for 1950.  We boarded, all was well.  Well, until we started moving around the runway, then the pilot announced that there was something wrong with the plane.  We were frustrated, but subconsciously all thought that it was better for there to be a problem now, than in the mid-Atlantic.  So the pilot tried to take off, but again, decided there was a problem, so back we went to the parking area.

Time was ticking, and the chances of us missing the connection from Madrid seemed to be increasing.

The pilot announced that he was going to refuel.  I couldn't help wondering why he hadn't done that in the first place! If I don't put fuel in my car, she doesn't go anywhere! Surely it's the same principle with a rather large aeroplane? We all had to undo our seat-belts whilst they added the fuel - why was that? I don't ask my passengers to do this when I go to the petrol station.  Strange.

We had been there for almost 2 hours.  I spoke to a Spanish nun who was also on the flight.  I'm always reassured when there is a nun around.  As Sally remarked, every flight should have one.  Unfortunately this particular nun and I didn't have much language in common.  I understood that she had travelled from Honduras, and was bound for Madrid, but apart from that, I was nun the wiser.

The two hour mark passed, we had missed the connection in Madrid.  Pip suggested I perform a comedy gig.  After all, this audience was locked inside a plane on the tarmac at San Salvador - they weren't going anywhere - talk about a captive audience! Just as I was working out the logistics of running a comedy improvisation workshop for these lucky passengers, the pilot announced that everything was sorted and that we were off to Madrid!

Ten hours later, we touched down in Madrid, and had been booked onto the next flight, which was in 5 hours.  Pip and I intrepidly jumped on a Madrid-bound aeroporto bus and headed for the city, taking advantage of the free WiFi on the bus to tweet our way into town.  Forty minutes later, we were sipping cerveza near the main square.  And the barman even found me a Coke lid - 'la tapa, por favore?'

A short hop from Madrid, and we touched down at Heathrow.  It was reassuringly cold.  We said our farewells and went our separate ways.  After 25 hours variously in the air, in transit lounges, and bribing barmen for Coke lids (well, maybe the latter was just me), we were exhausted, and most probably still are.

What an experience we have had.  I can't recommend a trip to Our Cabana highly enough.  Please GO GO GO there as soon as you can.  It is a beautiful place, in a lovely setting, it's warm and friendly, you become part of a very special community of people united by one set of values.  Look at their website, book yourself in for one of the sessions, or do what we did and organise a pick n mix programme, incorporating whatever you want.  It really is a wonderful chance to go and experience somewhere which epitomises Guiding.  If you're a member of Girlguiding, these World Centres are your home, so go and stay! If you're not a member of Girlguiding, why not become one? We always need more volunteers.  If you live anywhere near Chislehurst, get in touch as I could do with some more Guide Leaders! Guiding offers life-changing opportunities for girls and young women; come and be part of it; come and discover, grow, challenge yourself and be challenged.  Reach out and grab the opportunities that come your way.  If none come, look harder, or create these opportunities for girls and young women.  Life's short, don't let it pass you by.    

And if you do go to Our Cabana, go to Guatemala for a bit afterwards.  It's very well-equipped for tourism, as this provides a huge source of income.  I highly recommend it, especially Antigua, and of course, the Rainbow Cafe, location of my first every live gig!

So what's next? 

Well I am back at work now, and am here for two weeks, working and building my poetry empire.  Then I am off to Rwanda for the Fifth World Centre pilot, a conference for the WAGGGS (World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts) Stop the Violence campaign.  I will start a blog about this before I go and will tweet the link.  This will be a very different experience.  I am looking forward to meeting WAGGGS members from across Africa and the world, to find out more about what their organisations are doing to Stop the Violence, and to discuss the way forward.

Thank you for following my adventures - I hope you have enjoyed this blog.

Best wishes - Helen BB