My first thoughts on entering San Pedro were disbelief, i couldn't believe that such a quaint little town built upon such a beautiful setting could possibly be the setting for such shady going ons, the haunt of drug traffickers.

Upon entering the hostel (sinisterly named Trippys) i was greeted by the co-manger, a man named Cory, a man with a crop-circle tattoo on his head. Before our bags had even hit the floor, he proceeded to enthusiastically recount the story of how he and one of his buddies had been walking home and had found a dead dog, this dog had a line of blood sprayed from its mouth, scattered along this gory trail were an assortment of organs, one happened to be a still beating heart (its actually true, here's the youtube link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtRaTbhOVW8). At first, i thought this deluded man had had a lucid -drug fueled- fantasy, i had the distinct feeling he had long ago lost touch with reality. Ah, but the story does not end there, he then continued with this fantastic tale, predictably, there had been some controversy as to whether the heart and organs really belonged to the dog, as there were no obvious exit wounds, some argued that the organs had been ejected from the mouth (eventually they were proved to be correct); well, it seemed to me that it was moot, one of those neither-side-can-be-proved-right debates...well maybe so in a civilised society; out here though, if you want to find out if a still beating heart found on the side of the road really belongs to the dead dog next to it, you exhume (to unbury something) and then perform your own crude autopsy with a kitchen knife and wood saw. This story pretty much set the tone for the rest of my stay here.

I am only going to write about three days, because as far as a i remember, i was only here for three days, though other sources say otherwise.

Well i am now writing weeks in retrospect, and even while i was there my memory was not quite as clear as i would have liked, so please excuse any lack of detail. I had heard of San Pedro's illustrious drug-related reputation and hazarded to inquire to the manager where i could get coke from, he offered to have some delivered. Me and Phil didn't know it at the time, but we had a big night ahead of us. For some reason we had decided not to get the coke delivered and instead were enjoying some suspiciously cheap rum in the Palapa (a sort of un-walled hut) with some of the of the other guests, we also did not realise at the time that we were sharing drinks with travelers that would soon become fixtures in our daily routine, namely Steve and Chester - i love his little asian gouche. Well, we had heard earlier that there was some club night on, so being the adventurous sort we decided to go check it out. Phil has a habit of getting very drunk and then wasting his time talking to very average-to-boring guys; you would think him being from an all-boys boarding school he would be tired of c*** up his ass - surprisingly, despite his appearance, he is not gay. Anyway, this time it paid off, he met these two guys that said they could get a gram for 100Q - about £6. By this point we had already had some of Steve's and Chester's and were desperate for more, so we followed them to their hotel room, we stayed in their room while they walked across the hall to the owners room and procured for us the drugs, we then had what I describe as a 'party line' we had one each and pretty much all the coke was gone. Back at the club I saw the strangest sight I am every likely to witness, a tiny, wizened, old Mayan lady - wearing the traditional garb, going at it to some Trance music. I knew this was it…Nirvana. I then decided that we were going to have a party back at our hostel, so as is my way, I began to gather troops, I chanced to ask the Mayan lady if she would like to come boogie, she courtesly accepted my invitation. We got a big group together and headed off towards Trippys, though expectedly with such a big group we got distracted and led astray. By this point I had a beautiful Danish girl on my arm, it would take me a full 10 mins to realise that she was likely to be the most annoying person I would meet this year. Our first stop was this bar, which were to let us secretly in, everything conspicuously and illogically closes at 1am in Guatemala - backward little Mayans. However, it was not meant to be, the police soon turned up and shut us down. We were however in luck; there was always the Captain's. The Captain was a strange little man that seemed to always wear a white captain's hat, we could never decide if his home was a house or bar. It was by this point that I was realising the Danish girl was someone to get rid off, I got up and left her near the s***; there was some crazy little puppy running around biting people, he eventually decided to do a s*** on the straw mat everyone was sitting on and f***ed off, the captain in his great and boundless wisdom, not to mention incomparable ingenuity decided that sprinkling a layer of dirt over the s*** was fine, he even put a stool over it for good measure, great man the Captain. My story, regrettably, has to abruptly end here, as promised earlier this event happened over two weeks ago, a lot has happened since then and I honestly do not remember the rest of the night, ill ask around, im sure someone will be able to jog my memory.

The next day was awesome, some funny little hippy girl came round early the previous day and offered to sell me and Phil a shrooms bar, of course we bought it. She said it was her first batch, but we assured her that it would be fine, paid her and sent her on her merry way. With great anticipation we unwrapped the colourful wrapping - some hippy s***, a picture of a tree and rainbow or something equally as gay. Phil being a massive p**** and never before having tried shrooms insisted I go first. I was a bit dubious, I would soon find out with good reason; it was the strangest brown-grey colour and even though it had been in the freezer all night had a sludgy/grainy consistency. Being the hero I am I took a big bite. It felt as if I was being punished for incest or something equally sordid and immoral, I can honestly say I have never tasted anything that bad nor am I likely to. I will not venture to even attempt to describe the taste, however, I will say this, it tasted so argyrgkkkh (I can not think of a real word that would do the description justice), that 10 minutes in an Iron Maiden would be more humane than being fed a spoon full of that evil. Everyone else was eating fresh shrooms they have bought from Maria (the local drug barren and possibly the secret hand behind the workings of San Pedro), she deserves her own story, but not now. I was not willing to be left behind, sober and ashamed, I settled in for the most grueling and arduous task ever attempted by man. I was almost violently sick more than a few times, but the banana bread helped me get through it; I had finished it, me, a mortal…perhaps no longer? The payoff was the equal of the task, my morning was positively saturated with mirth. We sat on this patch of grass, on the bank of this mountain lake - possibly one of the most picturesque places on the planet, yet we were more concerned about what animals would make it on to my neo-Ark - I had decided I did not want two of *every* animal. Similar animals would have to prove their worth over their cousins to be saved from extinction, the first casualty was the Emu, I decided the Ostrich had many more redeeming qualities, there was no room for second best on my boat. The boat was just metaphorical, there would be no flood, I would personally execute every unworthy species. Anyway, eventually we sobered up, we decided that we did not like being sober and took another dose of shrooms. We then decided we wanted to go out, but we were still quite dazed from doing shrooms twice in one day, we decided doing coke would be a good way of waking us up. There was some party on at some hostel, we went there. My heart sunk as I saw Danish girl; she came running over with her insufferable enthusiasm, I tried pushing her off onto my friend Lexi but she wouldn't take her. I resigned myself to my fate - being slowly conversed to the brink of insanity. Surprisingly she had other ideas; I was whisked off down to the shore of the lake and ordered to strip. Maybe I was wrong about Danish girl? We had a little frolic, a little fun there was only one thing left to do. "What, why not?" "I'm a virgin" "f*** off" "Seriously" "You're 22" "My dad is a preist" "wtf". What a waste of time.