When the children of Tumaco ask for career advice they tend to receive a blunt response. It comes in the form of a popular local saying – fisherman, stowaway or footballer. But that’s probably just being kind. Fishing in a smuggling haven is fraught with danger. And being a stowaway to the United States just… [Read more…]
April 12, 2012
There was no time for pilot Erika Pedraza to think. She could see the blood soaking through her right glove as she gripped the controls. She was aware of the sharp sting of a bullet. But she couldn’t feel the pain. Moments earlier her colleague’s helicopter had plunged into the Colombian jungle and now her… [Read more…]
April 7, 2012
Now look, I know blogging ain’t cool. I used to be a ‘proper’ journalist, all inky fingers and deadlines that couldn’t be missed because a huge antique printing press was waiting to whirr into motion. I’ve heard them say blogging is “graffiti with punctuation” or that you can reach more people by walking into Trafalgar… [Read more…]
April 6, 2012
South America is officially a pain in the ass. The more you see, the more you have to see. I’ve been here almost two years now and my ‘To Do’ list is growing by the day: Go to the Guyanas, Uruguay, Paraguay; see more of Bolivia, more of Venezuela; explore more of Argentina, Brazil; go… [Read more…]
March 31, 2012
I sat down at my computer today to tell you how I walked around a favela, one of those notoriously impoverished, crime-ridden communities huddled on the hills of Rio de Janeiro. But I’ve changed my mind. Instead I’m going to tell you a story about a land far away – 5,800 miles to be exact.… [Read more…]
March 25, 2012
About a year ago, I went on a date with someone who failed to fall for my grace, beauty and buckets of charm. I know this because he never called me again. He did, however, make clear his disdain for women who “like to control everything”. At some point during the course of the evening… [Read more…]
March 21, 2012
Argentine men are dangerously attractive and the one who approached me, the blonde girl in the smoky Buenos Aires nightclub, was taller, darker and more handsome than most. The alarm bell sounded. It was time to walk the thin line between being prissy and not wishing to waste anybody’s time. “I have a boyfriend,” I… [Read more…]
March 17, 2012
Alright, let’s be honest. How many truly gorgeous men are there in the world with three centimetres of fur on their faces? A Shipwrecked Tom Hanks? John Lennon in 1970? I always seem to stick my neck out for Señor Guevara – an exception in so many ways – but beyond him, nope. Huge hippie… [Read more…]
March 14, 2012
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Pablo wasn’t going to ask the one question I’m not particularly fond of answering. “Where are you from?” he began. I arranged my features into their now familiar half-apologetic, half dumb-blonde-girl pose. The message is clear: I’m English, but I’m far too nice and innocent to know anything… [Read more…]
March 12, 2012
I really do develop some strange obsessions. When I first arrived in Latin America I loved Latin names so much I collected them – I used to write the most elaborate in an old notebook, that is now filled with random Seraphims and Octavios whom I’ll never see again. I’ve collected doorknockers in Cartagena –… [Read more…]
April 13, 2012
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