I long to get out of San Juan Del Sur; purely for the good of my health and sanity.  I feel like a tattoo artist at a Sunday School.  My card was due in today, and typically as luck would have it, it hasn’t arrived.  I’m left to languish in my hostel and cry over …

“Oh my god I have nowhere to stay tonight; I missed my shuttle back to the hostel”. “Well this guy (indicating me) has a private room, I’m sure you could stay with him”. This conversation existed less than ten minutes ago.  The exchange took place with one girl in front of a load of guys.  …

It has come to my attention that I am not an extreme sports guy.  I have had a golden opportunity here to try surfing, zip lining, scuba diving, volcano boarding, etcetera, etcetera.  Now either I’m genuinely non plussed about such activities, or I have to come to terms with the fact I am indeed big …

Ok so something isn’t right.  I think I should lay off the pork burritos.  I was never going to pull any punches in writing this journal, but there are some things best left unsaid.  Especially when you smell like someone has crawled up your arse and died.  Hey now; we’ve all been there, so don’t …

So December 1st was yesterday.  I guess I totally missed it, because I’ve been walking around in shorts.  I hate wearing shorts at the best of times.  So would you if you had skinny little white chicken legs.  I don’t have any facial hair, tiny legs and female wrists.  This is all because I shared …

Today I stayed in.  Literally.  Actually I think I went for some seafood at some point, but I rarely ventured beyond the comfort of my four walls in the hostel.  For that lord; I am thankful.

Apparently there is some kind of holiday happening here.  That explains why it sounds like Helmand Province in the streets.  Some of these firecrackers are like mortars.  This is based on my extensive knowledge of mortars playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare on the Xbox.  I’m starting to get pretty pissed at the locals who …

Ok so I think you’re getting the fact that I’m a glass half empty kinda guy.  You’re not so much getting it; more like you’re having it rubbed into your eyeballs and slapped round your face like a wet kipper.  I will try my best to turn that into a salmon.  I miss salmon. That’s …

I wonder if I’m running from something.  Responsibility?  Guilt?  Regret?  Is this my way of dealing with the events of the past four years?  I’m not eating well, I’m drinking too much and I’m cavorting with “the wrong crowd”.  I feel like a student again.  I long for a packet of wafer thin reformed ham …

I’m a stinking, festering mess as I try to exist in the international phone booth.  A shadow of a shadow.  A nonentity bothering the human race by breathing good air. I’ve slept little.  My head and heart too troubled from another epic fail.  I feel like I’ve got cotton wool wrapped around my face.  And …