As the last full week of being a temporary Mexican, and the existence of Los Tres Amigos, we found ourselves being filled with an unusual amount of energy, ambition and determination to make the most of every single minute we had left together, whilst also putting ourselves through the most uncomfortable experiences that a teenager can possibly bare without exploding into rage and hibernating for the next few months.The benefits to the week of pain we have endured come in the many unforgettable days, despite my best efforts to remove some of them, and several stories that promise to be rather amusing and entertaining,for the masses, even if it means I have to haunt myself for the next few hours. You had better enjoy.
The morning of day one was full to the brim of a stupid amount of optimism and an extremely surprisingly load of excitement, seeing as it was only nine o’clock and I had already been dragged out of bed and force fed a bowl of shitty fake cornflakes. The reason for our the intense hype came in the form of a new challenge that would demolish all other adventures we had faced and conquered, obliterating the mountains and volcanoes of Chile and Argentina as if they were just little mole hills, and making living in a caravan for ten days without a shower or internet feel like a luxury holiday to the moon. Unfortunately, this meant we were camping again, which in turn meant we had to fill our bags with nine litres of water, three days worth of unsatisfactory food and of course a tent, making putting our rucksacks on for the first time feel like the mighty force of gravity had just doubled in strength. However, there was no going back at this point, so we hopped into the truck and headed into the mountains to the starting point of our mega hike to some dried up laguna that Alec had mentioned a few weeks ago.Once we had got lost a few times and then stopped being idiots and found the right place to park the car, we filled our bodies with as much water as we could fit without pissing ourselve, chucked abit more on a heads for good measur, and then psyched ourselves up for the next few days of ultimate intrepid and extreme exploring. Quite inevitably, we didn’t get off to the best start though, as after walking for about 30 moderately painful minutes, we came across a truck, which then took us back to the beginning and let us through a gate so we could drive to the actual beginning of the hike and reproduce any little bit of motivation and determination in order to succeed. Unfortunately, we didn’t have Mr Thomas (hard core P.E teacher at my old school who could motivate even the most dweeby of students (me) to keep their arms up for over a minute) type figure to fire us up, but we just about managed to continue on the trail, and eventually we reached te beginning of the end of the fairly easy walking. This sounded and to be honest felt like an achievement in itself, but the problem with reaching the end of the easy part of something, is that something much harder is just around the corner. At the time we thought we knew this, so we slapped ourselves round the face, soaked ourselves in some refreshing luke-warm water, and started heaving our monstrous bags up an equally monstrous hill, determined more than ever to face our fears, prove our bodies wrong, and break down the barriers of what is humanly possible for three lads to achieve. We made it just about an hour before we crumpled to the ground and called it a day. We certainly didnt take this decision lighly, but after I had floated ahead without my bag to discover how big the next huge incline was, and we had held a deep discussion about how embarrassing it would be to return back to the house two days early and without having seen the famous laguna, we rolled back down the hill and back to the truck. The nightmare day didn’t end there though, as we somehow managed to get the truck stuck, and had to be rescued by the same nice farmer that we had come across earlier in the day, surprising him more than we had surprised ourselves by making it back to our car in three whole pieces. We did eventually find our way home though, and after one of the greatest swims in my life, we began retelling our legendary story to Alec, minimising the loss of respect as much as we could manage.
The next day was due to play host to a crucial recovery period, or so I had thought when I crawled out of bed towards the end of the morning and then retired to the pool side to relax my troubles away. However, I was sadly prevented from re-charging completely by an impromptu mission to clean the truck that we had gradually jacked up since we got to Mexico, and even more horrific was the way we had to execute the plan, using physical exercise and bicycles to carry ourselves around on whilst the Nissan got a nice spa treatment and full makeover. I was very jealous. We then decided we were ready to breach the boundaries of the functional bedroom by taking the beast down to the nearby beach and camping for the benefit of nothing or no one. I think it was only the cooler full of beers that prevented me from breaking down in tears. Day three continued the busy start to the week, or it did starting from about 6 o’clock when we headed into town to watch Aaron’s young skate crew absolutely shred it up at the same time as fulfilling every single aspect of what I expec, and find very entertaining, from a skate park, but in this case, the skaters were genuinely some cool mofos. We then made our way to Stuntman’s (one of Alec’s Voltron members) gig where we found ourselves enjoying the brutality of Mezcal in the company of some lovely ladies enjoying their ladies night.I think we quite enjoyed the typical gossip and giggling one would expect from girls night, and I even ‘reluctantly’ got ‘dragged’ onto the dancefloor to bust some of my best moves and show the weird guy who was spinning around all night expecting to soak up the affections of some female, who was boss. Obviously we had to pay a visit to the taco central of El Capitan, and obviously we had to travel in full Mexican mode, something I later regretted when I looked on my Snapchat the following morning.
As if this wasn’t enough for the week’s entertainment, the following day we decided to head on a new adventure that would take us back to the beautiful beaches of the east cape, and back to the evil mountains in central Baja. As the walk wasn’t planned until the last day of adventuring, Los Tres Amigos enjoyed the first few days camped on the peaceful white sands lining the Sea of Cortez, snorkeling in the bright blue waters along with the colourful wildlife that inhabited the nearby reefs, cooking some deliciously shit camping food on a next level stove, and even doing some minor rock climbing and posing for photos that nearly resulted in the death of my iconic straw hat. It was truly a very lovely few days, but in keeping with our travelling traditions, we absolutely obliterated our peace by getting up at the crack of dawn, (literally, would you believe) and trundling our way through a nine hour hike that actually took twelve, conquering gigantic hills time and time again to what repeatedly appeared to be absolutely nothing. To make things worse, I had lived up to the my expectations by forgetting my trainers, so I was forced to waddle along in Benj’s boat shoes, eventually giving up and finishing the walk in my socks. It was well and truly the most horrifically gruelling task I have ever had to take part in, demolishing any fitness tests at the hands of the aforementioned Mr Thomas, any week long detentions by the infamous Mr Thomas, and any rendition of jelly on a plate’ by DT himself. In hindsight, these comparisons only demonstrate the level of distress , demoralisation and depression that we suffered to people who went to my school or have had nightmares about torture and the devil, but for the rest of you lucky readers, this trek was nothing short of listening to Justin Bieber in his prime. Everyone must have done that. We did get some running views out of it though, meaning once again I had been brought back from the brink of extinction, and I think all three of us learnt a valuable life lesson for the longest day of our legs lives, which is never to get up at six AM unless it is for a highly paid job, or you are desperate for a drink after a heavy night out. Thankfully, the week ended on a high though, as after waiting at the airport for a few hours, our elusive buddy Tom strolled through the arrivals gate to the warm and extremely mushy welcome of the three of us, meaning the day was spent catching up, telling stories, and eating tacos. Perfect.
As you would expect, I have to give a huge mention to the hero of the week that helped us gringos out twice on the first day of the rest of our week, as without him we may still be in that desertous hell hole, feeling sorry for ourselves and wondering what on earth went wrong. However, the shoutout actually goes to someone I didn’t mention in the blog, who gifted us with three lovely homemade ladybugs all the way from Israel. Don’t worry it’s not as weird and sad as it sounds, as he was actually starting up a project called ‘pass the love bug’ promoting love and kindness by encouraging people to enjoy the beautiful gift for a few weeks, but then pass it on to a stranger in order to spread the message of love around the world. I thought this was a great idea at the time, but after reading the news for the hundredth time this week, and finding nothing but stories of evil, hatred and some seriously depressing shit, I see little projects like this as an absolute necessity in order to fight back against the evil in the world and try and put some good back into it.I have so much respect for that man, but I do now need to find one one to give my bug to.