Tag Archives: Central America

Sledding a Volcano

Did you guys know that I’ve also been blogging for the Raxa Collective? Well, if I had a penny for the number of times I’ve written, redrafted and posted something over there and then thought ‘It’s not worth going through all that on my own blog just to come up with the same thing’… (insert unnecessary end of metaphor nobody needs to hear). And I really feel like all my posts should be available in the same place, so I’m going to be reblogging some of the posts I’ve written for the Raxa Collective so you can all see everything I’ve written, all in one place! Omg how great is that!

Here’s my first post for them, about my trip to Nicaragua with Ixqui back in November. Enjoy! (And if you’ve already read it, sorry for the repeat!)

Love and kisses,
M. xox

La Paz Group

One volcano-related assumption which I’ve had to let go of since arriving in Central America is that a volcano is a volcano.

Anyone who grows up in Scotland knows that mountains are not just ‘mountains’. There are mountains, but there are also ranges, hills, Bens, and Munroes. There are the kind that, although tall, the fitter of us can walk up without much in the way of equipment; there are others which may be smaller but are impassable unless you really know what you’re doing.

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Episode Forty Nine – The Last (Wayyy More Than) Month Of My Life (Part 6)

Hello one and all.

I left you in the lurch a little too long with the camera thing, didn’t I? So long you’ve probably forgotten what that nagging feeling in the back of your mind is all about and why your shoulders are so tense. Well, don’t you worry, I’ll put it all to rest today: so grab a cup of tea, read on, and later you can go get yourself a massage or something. Continue reading


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Episode Twenty Seven – How to volunteer in Costa Rica

“It’s Thursday, June thirtieth, twenty eleven” says the presenter of my favourite high-tech, low-brow podcast, in his normal tone. It’s almost as though today might as well be any other day. Isn’t it strange how different everyone’s perspectives are? He was probably thinking “It’s Thursday – almost the weekend”, or “We’re coming up to the 4th of July”. I’m sitting here in my big, empty white room (well, it would be empty if there weren’t three clothes driers airing out practically every garment I own); and to me, today is not ‘nearly the fourth of July’: it is my last day in Scotland. By the weekend I’ll have begun episode twenty eight of my life, and I’ll have begun it in Costa Rica. Continue reading

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