People often ask me why I travel.
The truth is, I am not entirely sure.
Perhaps it began with the bedtime stories my mother read to me as a child — tales of distant lands, unfamiliar faces, and places far beyond the horizon. Somewhere along the way, those stories became an invitation, and eventually, a way of life.
Over the years, I have crossed deserts, climbed mountains, slept beneath unfamiliar skies, and followed roads with no certainty of where they would lead. I have shared tea with strangers, been welcomed into homes where I could barely speak the language, and said goodbye to people I knew I would never see again.
Some journeys unfolded as I had hoped.
Many did not.
There were moments of exhaustion, doubt, and the occasional foolish decision. There were border crossings that tested my patience, mountain trails that tested my legs, and goodbyes that tested my heart.
Yet those are often the moments I remember most.
“I almost did that" is not a collection of travel photographs.
It is a collection of moments.
A little girl named Bella in Panama.
A night spent beneath the stars of Salar de Uyuni.
even crossing the border to Guatemala
Each photograph is a reminder that the world is far smaller, kinder, and more connected than we sometimes imagine.
These stories are not about reaching destinations. They are about the people, places, and unexpected moments found along the way.
The moments that make us laugh.
The moments that make us pause.
And there are moments that quietly change us.
This is simply my attempt to remember a few of them before time carries them away.
Stop dreaming about your bucket list
and start living it.
- Annette White
“Can you speak Spanish?”
“It’s not worth the risk.
Just look it up on Google.”
“Are you crazy?"
"Those border crossings are dangerous.”
These were some of the questions and warnings I heard before setting off.
Yet one phrase surfaced more often than any other:
“I almost did that.”
It appeared in conversation again and again. Each time, I sensed something lingering behind those words — a missed opportunity, an unfinished dream, a road not taken.
As a little boy, I had always dreamed of travelling overland to distant places. Not simply to see them, but to experience them. To cross borders, meet people, and discover how others lived beyond the horizon of my own world.
How does one explain what they do and why they do it?
Perhaps it is both a blessing and a burden of the calling.
And so I gave in to that restless pilgrim spirit and boarded a plane bound for Central America.
Ahead lay ancient cities swallowed by jungle, forgotten roads, uncertain border crossings, and the remnants of one of history's most remarkable civilisations.
The Maya flourished here for centuries before fading into history, leaving behind questions that continue to fascinate the world today. I did not have all the answers.
I only knew that I did not want to spend the rest of my life saying,
“I almost did that.”
20°
20°53.552262'' N
30°
88° 8' 15.2878'' W
Ek Balam
Three hours from Cancún and just over an hour from Valladolid lies one of the Yucatán Peninsula's lesser-known treasures: Ek Balam. Unlike the more famous Mayan sites that draw thousands of visitors each day, Ek Balam feels quieter and more intimate. Occupied from around 100 BC and reaching its peak between AD 700 and 1200, it is renowned for some of the finest preserved stucco sculptures in the Mayan world. The main temple dominates the site.
Stretching more than 500 feet in length and rising above the surrounding jungle, it remains one of the most impressive structures I encountered in Mexico.
The intricate sculptures and decorative facades reveal a level of artistry that has survived remarkably well despite the passing centuries.
The following afternoon, I cooled off in Cenote Zací, a natural sinkhole hidden beneath the limestone landscape of the Yucatán.
Unlike many popular cenotes, this one was almost empty, allowing me to enjoy the silence and the cool water entirely on my own.
My pale feet
Later, I visited Cenote Samulá, where shafts of sunlight pierced through an opening in the roof, illuminating the crystal-clear water below. For a few moments, the underground cavern seemed almost unreal.
From the turquoise waters of hidden cenotes to the ancient cities of the Maya, the Yucatán offered a glimpse into two very different worlds.
Right: A Mayan Warrior at the temple in Ek Balm
Far right: More ruins at Ek' Balam Archaeological site
El Castillo
El Castillo
Day 8
El Castillo|Chichen Itza
From crystal-clear seas of the Caribbean to the deep underground caves of Central Mexico, my adventures saw me dive into the blue waters of secret cenotes in the Yucatán Peninsula and scale the New World's most impressive pyramids.
I had the pleasure of the company of
Dr Santiago, who is a specialist in the Archaeology of the Americas
Uxmal is an ancient Maya city of the classical period
Temple of the Warriors
The journey eventually led me to Chichén Itzá, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. At its heart stands El Castillo, the Temple of Kukulkán, a pyramid built atop an even older structure and one of the most recognisable monuments in the Americas.
Each site told part of the same story.
A civilisation that flourished for centuries, leaving behind remarkable cities, sacred wells, and enduring mysteries that continue to captivate travellers from around the world.
Day 10
The overnight bus rolled into Belize City just after dawn. Down by the waterfront, I met Edmundo Emanuel Fishman, a fisherman with a flowing white beard and a voice shaped by a strong Jamaican accent.
Standing beside the Caribbean Sea, he shared stories of the coast while the city slowly came to life.
Belize City
Belize
“Young man you know nothing about fishing.
I tell you, man, I have been fishing for over 40 years in these waters”
Edmundo Emanuel, 78
Baron Bliss Lighthouse
Baron Bliss Lighthouse in Belize City was established in 1885 on the former site of a Spanish fortress which was highly damaged after the Battle of St. George's Caye in September 1798
Guatemala
Tikal- The ancient Mayan citadel in the rainforests of northern Guatemala
I followed jungle trails deep into northern Guatemala, surrounded by towering trees and the sounds of a forest that seemed unchanged for centuries.
After hours of walking, the jungle canopy finally opened, revealing my first glimpse of Tikal. Rising above the treetops, the ancient temples stood as silent reminders of a civilisation that once ruled these lands.
Tikal
An ancient Mayan citadel in the rainforests of northern Guatemala
From there, the journey continued across another border and into Honduras, where the remarkable ruins of Copán awaited. Though separated by distance, both sites shared the same story — the enduring legacy of the Maya and the mysteries they left behind.
Day 15
Tikal, Northern Guatemala
Antigua
Antigua sits beneath a ring of volcanoes, its cobbled streets lined with colourful facades, crumbling churches, and reminders of centuries gone by.
Bienvenidos.
I spent hours wandering its streets, watching daily life unfold in the shadow of the surrounding mountains. The faces I encountered told stories I could only guess at, yet almost everyone greeted me with a smile or a friendly nod as I passed.
There was an easy warmth about the place that made it difficult to leave.
Santa Catalina Arch at night
Volcano de Agua
Santa Catalina Arch
Faces of Guatemala
Long after the volcanoes, lakes, and ancient ruins fade from memory, it is the people I remember most. A smile in a market, a quiet glance from a doorway, a greeting shared between strangers. These portraits are a tribute to the warmth, dignity, and generosity I encountered throughout Guatemala.
Lago Atitlan
Lago Atitlán
After the bustle of Antigua, Lago Atitlán felt like an invitation to slow down.
There was little to do and no need to hurry.
A hammock beside the lake became my office, my restaurant, and occasionally my bed. A cold beer cost fifty cents. A plate of pork pupusas for dinner was a little more than two dollars. My room overlooking the lake cost $9.50 a night.
The next morning, I woke to a view of the lake framed by distant volcanoes and calm waters stretching towards the horizon.
The view is priceless!!
Day 20
Lago Atitlan
Panajachel
The Legend of Maximón
The following afternoon, I wandered through the narrow backstreets in search of Maximón.
Part folk saint, part trickster, and part mystery, Maximón — also known as San Simón — occupies a unique place in Mayan tradition. Hidden inside a modest house, his effigy sat surrounded by candles, offerings, and curious visitors seeking blessings, protection, or perhaps a little luck.
The atmosphere was unlike anything I had experienced before — unsettling, fascinating, and impossible to forget.
A little spooky, perhaps. But certainly worth the photograph.
El Salvador
Suchitoto
Suchitoto is a town of cobbled streets, colourful facades, and slow afternoons. At its heart stands the beautiful Iglesia Santa Lucía, watching quietly over the town square.
Wherever I wandered, people greeted me with smiles and cheerful "Buenas". The people were warm, welcoming, and always willing to stop for a conversation.
Before arriving, I had heard plenty of warnings about El Salvador. Most of these warnings centred on crime and safety. Yet throughout my time here, I found something very different — a town filled with kindness, hospitality, and a pace of life that encouraged me to slow down and stay a little longer.
Suchitoto may not be on every traveller's list, but perhaps it should be. I know this for sure. I already miss it.
DAY 26
Suchitoto, El Salvador
Not all those who wander are lost
J.R.R. Tolkien
"
Alone in the Woods
Hike to the Conchagua Viewpoint
The trail wound steadily through the forest, shaded by tall trees that offered brief relief from the heat and humidity. Apart from the occasional rustle of leaves and the wind moving through the canopy, I had the path entirely to myself.
The climb was longer than I expected, but every step felt worthwhile.
At the summit, the Gulf of Fonseca stretched out before me, its islands scattered across the water beneath a wide Central American sky.
I stood there for a while, taking it all in.
Tomorrow, another border crossing awaits. Another country. Another road leading somewhere unknown.
But for now, there was only the view, the breeze, and the quiet satisfaction of having made the climb.
Hike to the Conchagua Viewpoint El Salvador
View from the lookout point at Conchagua
Die with memories, not with dreams
Day 31
El Tunco is little more than a beach town built around two dusty streets and the Pacific Ocean.
Most people come here to surf. Others arrive for the sunsets that draw crowds to the shoreline each evening. As the day fades, the sky shifts through shades of gold, orange, and pink, while the famous rock formation offshore becomes a dark silhouette against the horizon.
I came for neither.
I came because I had learned that some places are worth visiting simply because they are there.
Standing on the beach, watching another day disappear into the Pacific, I found myself thinking about all the journeys that begin with a simple decision — to go.
After all, dreams are easy.
But getting on the road is the real challenge.
El Tunco
El Salvador
1. Leaving El Salvador at La Union
3. Outstanding view of the Gulf of Fonseca and its islands
2. Perfect Morning at La Union, but sad to leave El Salvador
7. Six hours later The first glimpse of Nicaragua
6. Exhausted !!!!
DAY 33
Gulf of Fonseca
El Salvador to Nicaragua
8. Strong man Costello carrying luggage
9. Filling the landing card and Visa stuff at the boat pier - Nicaragua
5. Passing Honduras
Nicaragua
Laguna de Apoyo - Volcano Crater Lake
Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute experience
Paulo Coelho
"
The water was impossibly clear.
As I floated above the volcanic crater lagoon, I found myself staring into the deep blue below. Somewhere beneath me, the bottom disappeared into darkness, leaving plenty of room for the imagination to wander.
How deep was it?
How far could I dive?
What lay hidden below?
For a moment, curiosity wrestled with caution.
Then a shaft of sunlight broke through the water, illuminating the depths beneath me. Fear slowly gave way to excitement, and before long I was swimming further from shore, drawn by the promise of the unknown.
Perhaps that is why we travel.
Not to find all the answers, but to discover what lies beyond our hesitation.
Day 35
Apoyo Volcanic Crater Lagoon
Nicaragua
Costa Rica
The long road to Monteverde
I'm Not an Adrenaline Junkie
I stepped from the platform and into the empty space.
People often assume that moments like this are driven by adrenaline. That we do it for the rush, the thrill, or the bragging rights.
For me, it felt like something different.
As I descended through the canopy, the world seemed to slow down. The rainforest stretched out beneath me, layers of green disappearing into the mist. The wind rushed past, yet my mind was strangely calm.
There was no fear.
No surge of excitement.
Only a quiet sense of freedom.
For a few fleeting moments, suspended between earth and sky, I felt lighter than I had in a long time.
And somewhere deep within, a gentle voice seemed to say,
"I've got you. Everything is going to be all right."
Day 37
La Fortuna & Monteverde
Costa Rica
Storm
I could hear it long before it arrived.
Beyond the mountain ridge, dark clouds gathered and slowly advanced across the forest. They hung low among the treetops, brushing against the canopy as the first raindrops began to fall. The air felt different.
Still.
heavy.
The kind of silence that often comes before a storm. For forty days, I had travelled beneath clear skies and endless sunshine. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before the weather caught up with me. After all, this was hurricane season.
The wind strengthened. The clouds darkened.
Then a flash of lightning tore across the sky, followed by the deep rumble of thunder rolling through the mountains.
Moments later, the heavens opened. Standing there, watching the rain sweep across the forest, I realised it was time to move on.
Goodbye, Monteverde.
Day 40
Monteverde
Costa Rica
Men past forty get up nights. Look out at city lights and wonder
Where they made the wrong turn and why life is so long.
- Ed Sissman
(1928-1976)
Panama City
Panama
A Delightful Afternoon with a Gangster
Ten years ago, the streets of Casco Viejo belonged to gangs and stray dogs.
Today, the neighbourhood tells a very different story.
My guide for the afternoon was Miguel Rivera, a former gang member who now spends his days showing visitors around the historic quarter he once knew from a very different perspective. Married with five children, Miguel has traded gang life for guiding, though he still possesses the gift of commanding an audience.
To be honest, he was far more entertaining than the tour itself.
Every street corner came with a story. Every alleyway sparked another memory. Between jokes, laughter, and the occasional dramatic reenactment, he pointed out former hangouts, safe houses, and walls still marked by bullet holes from another time.
The graffiti once used to mark territory remains, preserved today as street art rather than a warning. For a few hours, I walked through Casco Viejo as it existed in Miguel's memories — a world very different from the cafés, hotels, and visitors that now fill its streets.
As the afternoon faded into evening, I finished my second Panamanian mojito and thanked Miguel for the stories.
The history of a place is often found in its buildings.
The soul of a place usually lives in its people.
And on that afternoon, Casco Viejo belonged to Miguel.
Panama City
Panama
Saying Goodbye to Bella
My time spent in Panama City’s Old Quarter ( Casco Viejo )
One afternoon, the weight of the world seemed to hang heavily over the neighbourhood. Yet amid the faded buildings and dusty streets, the sound of children's laughter brought everything back to life.
Most afternoons, I would join them. Their voices bounced between Spanish and the occasional English word, and before long, I had become part of their world.
"¿Cómo te llamas?" they would shout.
"What's your name?"
To them, I was simply Gringo — the brown gringo from a faraway land. We played football in the streets, and for a few hours each day, language no longer mattered. Laughter filled the gaps where words could not. Among them was a little girl named Bella. With her big brown eyes, chubby cheeks, and perpetually snotty nose, she had a way of capturing everyone's attention. She gave me an endless attitude, often placing her tiny hands on her hips and pretending to be cross with me. It only made her more lovable.
As the days passed, Bella became my shadow. Then came the afternoon when it was time to leave.
As the sun sank lower over the neighbourhood, I gathered my bag and said my goodbyes. Bella wrapped her arms around me and held on tightly. Then she asked if I would come back. I saw hope in her eyes and felt the weight of a promise I could not make. I told her I had to return to a faraway land. She did not understand.
Before her first tear could fall, I lifted my camera and took this photograph.
Years have passed since that day in Panama City, yet I often find myself wondering what became of Bella.
Did she finish school?
Did she celebrate birthdays surrounded by friends?
Did life unfold kindly for her?
I do not know.
What I do know is that somewhere in a small neighbourhood far from home, a little girl named Bella left a mark on the heart of a passing traveller. And though our paths will almost certainly never cross again, I hope life has been gentle with her.
Be safe, Bella.
Be safe.
Day: 41
The Brown Gringo
Panama City, Panama
Forty-Five Days Later
And so, this is where my journey ends.
As I stand next to the Panama Canal and watch ships silently pass through one of the greatest engineering feats in history, I don't think about the journey that brought me here. Instead, I think about a little boy sitting in a classroom many years ago.
Back then, the canal was one of the places I dreamed of seeing. Panama Canal
Boyhood Dreams
I imagined standing here, watching the ships pass between two oceans, wondering about the distant lands from which they came and the adventures that lay beyond the horizon.
Today, that dream has become a memory.
The canal is every bit as impressive as I imagined it would be. Yet the greatest reward is not seeing it at all.
It is known that the boy who once dreamed of coming here never stopped believing he would.
And somehow, against all odds, he made it.
Day 45
The Panama Canal
Panama
The charming cobbled streets and colourful colonial buildings of Suchitoto stirred my imagination, offering a glimpse of what life may once have been like in the old Americas.
From there, I crossed the Gulf of Fonseca by boat into Nicaragua — without a doubt the most beautiful border crossing of the entire journey. I wandered through historic cities, stood before smoking volcanoes in Costa Rica, and travelled roads that had existed long before I arrived and would remain long after I had gone.
Along the way, I also learned that history is often more complicated than the stories we tell ourselves. Some heroes seem less heroic when you view them through a different lens.
I travelled by chicken bus, ferry, bicycle, pickup truck, private van, and on foot. I crossed borders carrying little more than a rucksack, three guidebooks, and an open mind. But the journey was never really about the miles.
It was about the people.
I shared conversations with strangers. The friendships formed along the way. The fleeting encounters that lasted only a few minutes yet remain vivid years later. I watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean, slept beneath star-filled skies, crossed mountain ranges, and followed roads that led me far beyond anything I had imagined when I first boarded that plane. More than 8,000 kilometres later, I arrived in Panama City on a wet December morning – tired, grateful, and carrying a lifetime of memories.
Standing beside the Miraflores Locks, watching ships pass between two oceans, I realised that every border crossed, every bus ride endured, every wrong turn, and every uncertain moment had brought me exactly where I needed to be.
The journey was over.
The memories would remain.
And as I looked across the Panama Canal, I smiled quietly to myself, knowing there was one phrase I would never have to say.
"I almost did that."
5 December 2016
By the Miraflores Locks
Panama Canal, Panama
"The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams."
" I almost did that "
is intended to elicit my wanderlust