croptops on tour

THE ONE WHERE I ESCAPE AN AMOROUS NICARAGUAN Realising I left my only pair of proper shoes at the canyon, I trek back there the next day. In Somoto, no sign of my shiny pink Nikes. Instead, yesterday's guide goes a little loved up on me and wants to convince me to stay with him. Luckily, Ross the Californian turns up with a plan to catch the bus to Honduras. I wave farewell and jump on the bus, towards Caribbean island Utila with my new friend Ross. Utila charms with clear water, cheap diving and cheap booze. A traveller's haven full of expats who never left (and an unused coast full of washed up litter). Indulge in a little hedonism? Oh do lets. Days initially planned to visit Utila: 0. Days spent on Utila: 12. Dives: 8. Dive certs: 1. Shoes: 0. Regrets: 0.

RIVER DEEP, CANYON HIGH After the tumultuous times of Leon I make my escape to Esteli, an unassuming university town near the Honduran border. Which also happens to be a stones throw away from the Somoto canyon, a dramatic 200m deep canyon that was only discovered for touristic purposes in 2004. It's a 6 hour hike and swim/float through the canyon, with a lovely local guide to keep me and two Dutchies company. Initial indignation at life vest: 97. Later enjoyment of floating effortlessly: 100. Cliff jumps: 2. Maximum cliff jump height: 6m. Cliff jumped by guide: 20m. Shoes before hike: 2. Shoes after: 0.

OF REVOLUTIONS, WEDDINGS AND GOODBYES Student town Leon has always been a stronghold of left-wing politics in Nicaragua, and was famously the first town to liberate itself from the decade-long Somoza dictatorship in 1979. Though less pretty pretty than Granada, its vivacity, nightlife, beautiful plazas, and the proudly passionate citizens make it one of the most memorable places I've visited in Central America. And as much as Leon has represented a turning point for Nicaragua throughout history, it turns out to be one for this trip too, where Jeff and I decide to part ways, and I subsequently get invited to a local wedding. As per usual, life moves in unfathomable ways.

JUST YOUR EVERYDAY TROPICAL PARADISE Travelling to the Corn islands (just off the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua) is like entering a different universe. Creole-speaking locals relax in hammocks, while kids dive for lobsters off the beach and reggae music dictates the rhythm of life. The main island (Big Corn) is positively heaving compared to Little Corn, which has no motorised traffic or any activities more stress-inducing than deciding on your next meal. Terrible place to be, really. Beach huts inhabited: 1. Scuba dives: 1. Sharks spotted: 4. Fishing trips: 1. Fish caught: 0.

PRETTY PRETTY HOUSES We hop across the Nicaraguan border and over to Granada, an old colonial town known for its picturesque streets and conservative politics. From trendy hostels to horse-drawn carriage tours and artisan cigar factories, this little town has everything the hipster traveller could wish for. There's a pretty church on every corner, and a crazy-turquoise lagoon in cycling distance. If it wasn't for the hordes of tourists and deafening cannon shots celebrating various saints at all hours of the day, this place may have just held us for a little longer. Beers: 25. Rice and bean dishes consumed: 12. Cannon shots: 63. Metal saws used at hostel building site: 2. Deafness: +5.

THE ONE WHERE WE HAVE A REALLY DUMB IDEA In Costa Rica, we decide to climb the second-highest mountain in Central America. At 3890m, Cerro Chirripo towers over everything, with views from the Pacific to the Atlantic (or so Lonely Planet says). But 7 hours into the hike, with altitude screwing us royally, we realise that maybe this wasn’t the best pick for our first proper hike. Ah. We collapse into bed at base camp, and surprisingly still make it up to the summit the next day. AND 20km downhill in the pouring rain. Yay us. Km hiked: 40. Altitude climbed: 2390m. Hours spent hiking: 16. Hours spent hiking in the rain: 7. Freezing cold showers: 1. Beers:1. Appropriate pieces of clothing: 0. Will to live: minimal.

BEACH BUMS TURNED OUTDOOR TYPES (ISH) Picturesque mountain town Boquete works as a base for any number of hiking trails in the surrounding mountains and cloud forests, including the ‘sendero pianista’. A trail which two Dutch girls mysteriously disappeared without a trace a few years back. Gulp. We opt for minimal hiking and instead get drunk with a Mexican and our new Panamanian family in a local dive bar. Hikes: 1. Waterfalls: 3. Missing persons: 0. Mexicans: 1. Beverages: 34.

BROWN SEA, BLACK SAND Heading down to Santa Catalina on the Pacific Coast doesn’t quite bring us the beachside bliss we’re hoping for. The surfer’s haven is deserted for low season, with storms colouring the ocean a muddy brown. Nevertheless, Jeff manages to wrangle a fishing rod from someone, and we explore the rocky beaches in balmy summer rains. Fish caught: 0. Other tourists present: 1. Beers: plenty.

THE ADVENTURE BEGINS … In Panama City. A city on the up, entrenched in traffic and framed by a skyline that doesn’t exactly sing Latin American vibes. Our first stop off the plane lands us in the picturesque old town, where crumbling colonial houses are being prettied up for the tourists. We (almost) effortlessly master the local transport system and taste our first (of many) Central American beer. Salud! Temperature: 35C. Hours spent in traffic jam: 2. Canals: 1.

LAGO TITICACA Calling Titicaca a lake feels a bit like calling the Andes a set of rolling hills. It’s gigantic. With an eerie quality to it that could come from its lofty mountain setting, the freezing temperatures, or from something entirely different. According to Incan lore, the world was created when god Viracocha rose from its waters. No dips in the lake in this weather though, that’s for sure. Instead, we opt for a little boat trip around the lake’s islands. Hermoso!

LA PAZ Nestled high up in the valleys of the Andes, La Paz literally takes your breath away. The palpable lack of oxygen here means Rebe and I first of all we need to have a little lie down, and chew some cocoa leaves. We manage to avoid the worst of the altitude sickness and soon get out into the streets, soaking up impressions until our heads spin (again). After a night out dancing, the Vale de la Luna (’moon valley’) is the perfect hangover activity: peaceful quiet and no people. Perfect.

SANTA CRUZ DE LA SIERRA In Asuncion I make a new friend, Paraguayana Rebecca, and we decide to team up for a little trip to neighbouring Bolivia. After a 27 hour bus ride in 40 degree heat (without air con), and a vigorous drug search on the border, we finally make it to beautiful Santa Cruz, which is in the hot lowlands of Bolivia. It's full of pretty-as-a-picture colonial architecture, bustling markets, and a gorgeous town square — whose benches and coffee cart make for some blissfully lazy afternoons.

HOLLYWOOD One goodbye and a missed bus disaster later, my mum and I are back in the vicinity of Miami, enjoying two final days of beach bliss. Where people wear beach chairs like rucksacks (true story) and muscled joggers show off their bods on the broadwalk. We let the joggers jog and opt for a tan and some wine instead. Cheers!

CEDAR KEY Thought Key West was the bees knees? Think again. Back south, back to kinder temperatures, and onto Cedar Key - a little island off the west coast of Florida. As pretty as its southern cousin, but all the more charming for its lack of tourist hordes. Our hotel is one of the oldest inns in the country (apparently) and so gorgeous I can hardly stop gushing over all the cute details. A late night card playing session, a lovely kayak trip and too many delicious seafood meals make it an amazing end to our family holiday. Can we stay forever? Seafood-chowder-award-winning-restaurants: 1. Pelicans: 5004. TVs in hotel: 0. Hours spent relaxing on terrace: 6.

EAST COAST FLORIDA  After a night in cozy Motel 6, we head on over to the East coast, checking into Daytona (of spring break fame) and Flagler beach on the way to St Augustine — where I get so lost in a shopping frenzy that I forget to take any photos. Oops.