It didn't take long for things to start getting interesting after leaving Antigua. I'd only been on the chicken bus for 40 minutes before realising I'd left my passport under my mattress in Antigua (ironically enough to keep it safe.) Things started looking up however when I reached Panajachel, one of the many villages surrounding lake Atitlan, which has been described as the most beautiful lakes in the world. In my limited experience I'd have to agree, though Loch Ore does push it close! Panajachel, or 'Pana,' as the cool kids call it, was pretty lively for a lake side village and I've never seen so many useless handicrafts in my puff. I circled the entire town but had no luck finding hankies, yet if it was a carved wooden bird I would barely have had to leave my room.

I spent most of my time in Pana at the lake front convincing the locals that I had no use for a stone mask and it was down at the waterfront that I also bumped in to Fergal, an Irish guy from Atlanta who I'd met back in Antigua. We hung out for a bit until I headed home for an early night, determined to make it up for the sunrise - not my wisest move in hindsight!

It was just getting light when I got down to the lake. I wandered along the shore for 5 minutes or so until 2 young Guatemalan guys approached me and said something in Spanish. I assumed they were asking if I wanted to go on a boat ride like everyone had been asking the day before so I replied with a smile,

"no gracias. Manjana."

I was about to continue on my way when one of the puzzled looking guys pulled out a gun and pointed it at my head, repeating what he had said. It was pretty obvious at this point i was getting robbed and not asked to take a relaxing cruise so I followed his pointing and knelt on the ground while his friend fished out my wallet and inspected it before they both jogged off. After counting to 10 Mississippi I legged it in the opposite direction and back to town. It had all been ridiculously scary but had all happened too fast for it to sink in properly.

At this point I had no money, no cards and no passport but did at least manage to get a police report after 20 minutes of charades at the station. Even after my best efforts at acting out the mugging I didn't hold out too much hope for the police recovering my wallet- especially since they didn't even get around to asking for my contact details.

The best plan seemed to be to head to Xela, 3 hours away where Mark would hopefully have my passport to allow money to be western unioned over. Fergal was kind enough to cover my bus to Xela, however after arriving I discovered Mark, who didn't know the situation, hadn't been able to tear himself away from the bagels in Antigua. Once again I was penniless without a decent plan so it was complete luck and the best possible timing when I bumped into Blake and Wei-Lein, who were studying Spanish in Xela.

Once I had met the two Aussies things were a lot more relaxed and was able to borrow the money for a 10 hour round trip to Antigua to pick my passport up and get some much needed cash. After everything was back to normal I was able to enjoy a few days in Xela, hiking on the nearby mountains and soaking in the hot pools before meeting the Aussies after they'd done with their classes.

After a few days it was time to say a sad farewell to Blake, Wei-Lein and Guatemala and finally start heading North, starting with a return to Mexico.