Travelling out of control

I went for dinner last night at Flying Fajita Sisters (great food!) with three lovely ladies - the always good value Martha Bedggood, half-woman/ half-Care Bear Clare Munro and, of course, the delectable Mrs Bell herself. We had Mexican. It were fantastico.

There was a grand purpose to our meal. We were there to discuss our itinerary, aptly enough, for Mexico.

You see, one of the things I've come to love about our upcoming trip is the company. We'll be meeting friends along the way! It's a bit like a non-competitive version of The Amazing Race, only without the "Shucks! Why can't you speak English?!" Americans (or, thankfully for Jenni, the little people :P)

So far, our meet-ups look like this:

• We'll be seing everyone's favourite Pocket Rocket, Ian, in LA
• Meeting up with Marf and Clare-Bear in Mexico
• Potentially climbing Macchu Picchu with Mum (assuming she doesn't uncover the long-lost family fortune doing Geneaology in Galway and "do one")
• Getting down with Steeeeevie and Jenni-WOW! in Buenos Aires
• Doing the Rio thing with Tom & Irenne
• ...plus, whomever else can swing it to meet us along the way.
  

Hence, the dinner. We needed to sort out the fine print around where & when we were going to meet up in Mexico.

Now, I expected the conversation to go something like this;

Stewart: Right, we need to agree a rendez-vous target drop-zone.
Martha: Affirmative Red Leader
Stewart: Ten-four team. Solutions?
Clare: Meet Cancun Airport at 0-eighteen hundred on the 4th June SIR!
Rachel: From there proceed directly to Fun Mode post-haste SIR!
Stewart: A fine solution. Are we all in agreement? Confirmed. Next on the agenda; what beer should we drink?

Instead, what happened was more like this:

Stewart: Right-ho ladies, let's work out when we're going to meet, so we can get flights booked. Okay?
Rachel: Oooo look! They've got Tamales on the menu. I saw a program about that on Lonely Planet.
Clare: Yeh, I love that little English guy on it. He's funny.
Martha: But scruffy! He needs his eyebrows done badly. Honestly, I spoke to one of my clients who's done Tumul. She said the beaches were just amaaaaaaazing.
Rachel: Ooo! Ooo! Cocktails on the beach!
Clare: I think his name is Ian Wright?
Martha: Who? My client?
Clare: No, the presenter.
Rachel: Yeh yeh! I remember seeing one program where he ate a bulls' eye.
Martha: Ewwww. Gross. I’ve put some dodgy things in my mouth in my time time but…
Clare: Anyone fancy sangria?
Martha: Ooo. Go on then luv.

I guess everyone goes travelling for different reasons.

For me, it's all about the things I'm going to do. I loved it when we did a scuba liveaboard, so the prospect of going scuba diving in Honduras or diving a cenotes floats my boat. I'm positively giddy about going caving in Belize. I'm struggling not to drop my bacon sandwich when someone mentions going to see a Boca Juniors game in Buenos Aires. I like to plan this stuff in advance.

Rachel, on t'other hand, dissolves into a glutinous mess on the floor at the prospect of the myriad of new dishes she’ll be encountering. She's what I'd call a ‘Gourmet Traveller’.

My guess is Marfie is all about the beaches and the relaxation. She strikes me as a five-star flashpacker.

Clare? She's an old hand when it comes to travelling, having been halfway around Africa a couple of years back.

Mum has already told me that there is no way she's going anywhere near a hotel that doesn't have running water and a flushing (gold plated?) toilet. She’d prefer her Macchu Picchu trail porter to give piggy-backs.

Stevie's goal, I imagine, will be to "get involved". If there is a fun to be had, he'll be into it like a fat kid with a cupcake. I plan to slipstream him Lewis Hamilton-stylee.

So, what was the outcome of last nights’ efforts?

Well, measuring in terms of concrete outcomes, probably not that much. We now know we need to fly into Cancun airport, rather than Mexico City. We have a vague plan of staying in Tumul before heading south. We agreed that we should drink lots of Coronas.

However, I found myself waking up this morning with a grin like a Chesire Cat. I am getting majorly excited. I’m like a reverse parking indicator - beep…………..beep………..beep…...beep…beep..beep.beepbeepbeep! - the closer I get to departure day, the more giddy I’m becoming.

I mean today, I found myself singing “Born Free” whilst walking through the office.

Most of all, I find myself really beginning to like my new state of mind. Others’ seem to prefer it too. I am happy Stuie. Friend to small children. Petter of puppies. Smeller of roses. King of Positivity. I'm feeling more and more like someone I'd like to spend time with.

So, to plan or not to plan? To do or to eat? Beach or beaten path? Get Involved or Watch From the Sidelines? I’m not sure there is a right or a wrong. I don’t feel the need to call it. I’m loving the idea of taking each moment as it comes.

As I was lying in bed last night, Rachel read me a passage from her book Eat Pray Love. It’s basically about a woman who is a control freak. She's miserable and lost in life. She visits a Buddhist monk. He tries to persuade her to slow down, to let go.

His advice is, “Sit quietly. Cease your relentless participation. Simply watch what happens…Why are you so sure that your micro-management of every moment in the whole world is so essential? Why don’t you just let it be?”

Wow. I’m seriously considering getting that put on a t-shirt.

15 days to go...

What kind of travellers are you lot? Got any advice?