Every person I had spoke to in Central America who had travelled from north to south had told me Guatemala had been their favourite country so I was looking forward to it a lot. My first port of call was Antigua, situated just over an hour southwest of Guatemala City. Described in the Lonely Planet as a ‘fantasyland’ where ‘rubbish is collected, traffic diverted and stray dogs “disappear” mysteriously in the middle of the night’, it was raised to the ground by an earthquake in 1773 and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

While there I got lost in the aisles and aisles of the market and wandered the cobbled streets of the colonial town, admiring its surrounding volcanoes (Agua, Acatenango and Fuego). Every night I found myself at Parque Central transfixed on the beautifully illuminated Cathedal de Santiago. The town is covered in cafes and restaurants so I spent plenty of time simply reading and sipping coffee.

Another thing I did in Antigua was to climb a volcano. While on in Iceland was causing chaos to the airline industry worldwide I ascended Volcan Pacaya, an active volcano 25km from Antigua. Unfortunately for me the rumours of the absence of lava flows (which are common on Pacaya) turned out to be true. Also true were the rumours a Venezuelan tourist and a tour guide died on the volcano the day before I was set to visit it. They had been caught by a landslide and crushed by falling rocks while two others needed to be hospitalised. Being Central America it was business as usual instantly and although a devastating occurrence, it added an extra element of excitement for me. The ascent to the side of the crater wasn’t difficult and I was actually slightly disappointed. Apart from the sulphur smoking from the summit, which was impressive, I didn’t see anything I hadn’t witness at Tongariro in New Zealand. I soon changed my tune however when we reached the side of the crater. As we got higher, it got hotter, not the climate but underfoot. When we reached our destination we were surrounded by vents releasing scolding hot air. Peering into them you could see glowing red rocks receiving their heat from the ‘liquid hot magma’ (always said in a Dr. Evil accent). The vents were so hot that our guide set fire to branches and we roasted marshmallows over them. The marshmallows were very nice but not a person who likes to be outdone I whipped out a cheese and ham sandwich and made a toasty which was delicious. It helped make the trip a real success.

The next day I went to a bar to watch Inter v Barca (3:1). While there I saw a young boy, no older than 8, going around shining shoes. He was so cute, with his little shoe shine box and backpack. It broke my heart to think he would probably be doing the same thing every day for the rest of his life. A couple of businessmen bought him a drink; he was delighted and smiled with embarrassment when he went to take a sip without removing the paper sleeve from the straw. They also bought him some food before they left. At the same time men who are paid hundreds of thousands of Euros per week were on TV playing football.