The Restless Race of The Traveller's Heart

Last Updated on 22nd December 2020

Central America: Chapter 2

Prologue

When I started to write this post there were new possibilities ahead of me but everything felt wrong. I felt I didn’t belong in this world anymore, the message was loud and clear. Too old, too ugly, too fat, and too mean (which covered up my lack of personality). I desperately wanted to change all this and prove the world wrong so I continued to move onwards. But instead of upwards I was rapidly moving downwards. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t project myself towards the sky. Then the ‘rejection’ came for my dream job, the one I successfully bet 100s of applicants to reach the final stages. Every interview, every person I spoke to … it felt right, this was my turn. However, they found someone who ‘more clearly articulated their fit’. It reiterated that I no longer belonged so I decided to go. Every fibre in my body broke down, I couldn’t move; I couldn’t think. There was a dimming light in my frazzled mind that told me I couldn’t go on like this and to get some help. So I used that one iota of strength I had left to phone my doctor.

It was at the doctor’s surgery where I was ‘officially’ diagnosed with anxiety. All those horrible feelings that I had been fighting for most of my life finally had their own identity. I’ve opted for medication, it’s what’s right for me now. The journey to recovery (I’m unsure if recovery is the right word) has been long and hard. My anxiety seems to be fighting against the medication, it doesn’t want to be subdued. While my mind is still frazzled I am finding that I’m able to cope better with most situations. For the first time in my life someone described me calm! I have a new job working at one of London’s iconic theatres. More importantly, I am able to embrace me and my anxiety; we’re living together in harmony.

Up to my anxiety diagnosis I thought I was simply the strange girl that no-one got on with. My anxiety never leaves my side, it’s a constant even when I’m in situations where I should feel confident and happy. And it’s with me when I travel, but I don’t let it stop from enjoying all those amazing experiences that come with travelling the world. I do feel I have different experience from everyone else. Because I’m dealing with an inner turmoil I can come across as quite aloof and disinterested, when in reality I’m bubbling with excitement inside. Tour guides and fellow travellers tend to leave me alone and exclude me, which only heightens how I’m feeling inside.

I won’t even attempt to give advice on how to deal with anxiety when travelling; everyone has their own way dealing with it. My way is to take a quiet moment so I catch my breath; those quiet moments range from an hour to an entire day out of my itinerary. Pretending my anxiety wasn’t with me during my journey across Central America suffocated me to the point where I was physically ill.

I’m explaining this all to you because it adds clarity to this and future posts. My actions and decisions all make sense once you are aware of my struggle with anxiety. So here it is, the next instalment of my big Central America adventure…

The Journey

The day arrived when I was finally on my way to Central America. Despite being super prepared and so close to my destination, I felt what I can only describe as nervously excited. I was looking forward to starting my adventure but I was also very scared and nervous. I wanted to stay at home, I was foolish thinking that I could survive such a journey. What was up with me!

In the days leading to my trip I prepared for my trip and prepared again, and then prepared some more. Not only did I have my itinerary planned to minutest detail I:

Quadrupled-checked the visa situation – I’m a Kiwi, we’re peaceful loving people, no visas required
Brought a new lightweight super snazzy rucksack with secret pockets which I am still finding to this day
Little travel knick knacks; adapter plugs and travel size of everything
Head torch! I love my head torch! Buy a head torch, no reason need. Wear it to bed. Wear it when socialising with friends, at night. Buy a head torch!!
Current passport – can’t be stuck in the middle of a strange land with an expired passport.
Immunisation shots and malaria tablets – the recommendation is for hepatitis A and tetanus. You also need malaria tablets, which you have to start taking two days in advance of travelling
Joined the airline membership scheme and downloaded their app (important, do this and reap the rewards)
Sent my itinerary to my family and friends with contact numbers of the hotels, should anything go wrong

Arriving at the airport in good time, I confidently strode to the self-service check-in machines. I hadn’t been able to check-in online which I didn’t find that unusual for a long haul flight. Typing my details into the self-service machines instead of my boarding pass I got a message directing me to the check-in desks. Sensing my bemusement and ~~slight~~ absolute panic at the situation a friendly airlines rep approached me. He asked to see my passport and ticket, then typed something into the tablet he was holding.

“You haven’t got a ESTA.”

“A what?”

“An ESTA. You need one if you are travelling to the USA”.

“I’m not travelling to the US. I’m going to Mexico.”

“Yes, but you’re changing flights at Houston so effectively you will be on US soil. You need a ESTA even if you are in transit.”

“I’m a kiwi! We’ve peaceful loving people! We mean no harm!!”.

Actually, I didn’t make the last comment, what I did do was spew out a lot of unintelligible words. Due to my own stupidity I was about to miss out of my dream trip. All that planning for sweet freaking nothing.

What happened next resulted in my airline rep getting a big hug. Taking pity on the teary mess I had become, he spoke to his colleague to see if he could take a break from his position. He then took me to a computer and applied for my ESTA for me, reassuring me that it would be a quick decision, if I had done nothing wrong (define wrong? There was that time…oh my gosh!). Fortunately he was right, I had my ESTA within minutes. Phew! The moral of the story is get an ESTA … just get an ESTA, no matter where you are going.

Fortunately the rest of my time at the airport was uneventful. After a pottering for a bit, I was on my flight to Cancun, Mexico via Houston, USA. I hit the jackpot with my flight. The flight was almost empty which resulted in me getting a little bump up to the next class (extra special economy, or whatever they call it) and an entire row to myself, as well as the rows behind me, in front and to the side. The air attendant was throwing extra food and drinks my way. “They would only go to waste”, he said. I felt like a superstar! I am a superstar!

Now kids, this was a few years ago, back in the days when the airlines were a hell of a lot more flexible. Meals were free and drinks were free flowing (within reason). Near empty flight? Simple, let’s give what passengers we do have a trip they will remember. If you were polite to airline staff they made sure you were taken care of; access to the VIP Lounge, an extra mini bottle of something strong from the cart, etc. Having a loyalty card meant something not a desperate attempt to collect enough points on for that coveted ‘reward’ flight.

Talking about rewards, prior to boarding my flight at Heathrow, I was playing around with the airline app and discovered that there were cheap upgrades available on my connecting flight to Cancun. I think I paid something silly like US$25 for a seat in first. Needless to say, when I landed in Houston I was excited about the prospect of flying first class to my next destination.

My excitement of travelling first class quickly turned to back nervous excitement when I saw the smallest plane in this world, ever! Which I was to learn, further into my journey, this was to be an extreme over exaggeration. Oh my gosh! The comfort of first class! The leg (and elbow) room! The comfortableness and cosiness of the seat! The drinks! The snacks! And that was before we took off! The only downside-ish was my neighbour, the nice germaphobic OCD nervous flyer. I arrived to my seat to find her cleaning both our seats with disinfectant wipes! I’m not a nervous flyer but being sat next to this woman put me on edge. Why was she sanitising everything? Should I be worried? Apart from that, she was a delight to sit next too and we did nothing but talk about our upcoming adventures and she happily shared her past experiences in Central America.

Chatting to my row neighbour about our reasons for travelling to Cancun, I explained I felt like a fraud. Anyone else would be full of excitement to be embarking on this adventure, whereas I felt anxious about the entire prospect of backpacking around Central America on my own.

“It’s natural to feel that way. I would think it strange if you weren’t feeling anxious,” my neighbour explained, “it shows that you’re passionate about this trip.”

Her words have stuck with me to this day and are how I get myself through my anxiety while travelling, though I do still have moment when my anxiety consumes me. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when I discovered that the Swedes have a word for this feeling, resfeber. Isn’t that simply awesome!?! Now when someone asks how I’m feeling about an adventure I can sagely say “resfeber”.

Arriving at Cancun, I was so very pleased to be finally there. Having been told that it would take 90 minutes to get through Mexican immigration I used the small amount of mental agility I had left to deal the expectation of queues á la US Immigration. But no, within 20 minutes I was outside Cancun Aeropuerto waiting for the shuttle bus to my hotel. Lucky…..? I had to wait 30 minutes for the other passengers. The sun was beating down on me like a furnace so I paranoidly constantly applied suncream to avoid starting my holiday looking like I had actually been camping out in that furnace. I was so exhausted from my flights. With every tourist that headed in my direction, I had hope that this would be my fellow passengers. Once they did arrive, I had to endure an extremely long journey to Tulum dropping off my fellow passengers at these gorgeous, high-security holiday resorts. When we finally arrived at my hotel in Tulum, which was the last stop, I felt so sorry for my driver I doubled my tip. He left a happy man.

So now I’m here at my hotel, Las Ranitas. I think it’s by the sea, I can hear waves. But it’s pitch black and I’m extremely tired.

Next …. Tulum Ruinas and lots of lizards.