Quetzaltenango (Guatemala) - kindergarten

Entering Guatemala from Mexico and you are greeted with a confronting change: from the Western world to the developing world. Most noticeable is the change from luxury coaches to local buses reminiscent of Asia, complete with the cliched ingredients of overcramming, blaring music, baskets of vegetables and, or course, the odd feathered bird. Locally this form of transport is known, affectionately, as a chicken bus. In my case, my neighbour was a huge turkey. My ultimate destination was Quetzaltenango - mercifully referred to as Xela - a place to base myself and study the Spanish I would need for the rest of my journey.

Once I had chosen my school, which was difficult because there are many all offering almost identical packages, it was time for an early night. Having your first day at school, at the age of 36, is an odd experience. Five hours of one-on-one language tuition, plus homework, can be pretty grueling. There's nowhere to hide.

I chose to live with a local family for the full immersion treatment and have been extremely lucky. A fantastic collection of Guatemalans of various ages - I'm still not sure of the exact relationships or all their names - who have made me incredibly welcome. Sharing three meals a day with non-English speakers certainly cranks up your learning.

The experience overall can be mentally and physically challenging; yet all the more rewarding as a result. I'll leave lying on beaches to those with the skin and figures to do it well.

San Cristobal de las Casas (Mexico) - de ja vu

Only once on this trip will I pass through somewhere I've been before and this enigmatic town receives, and greatly deserves, the honour.

Five nights in total were spent in San Cristobal - watching movies about local revolutionaries, studying Spanish, visiting a crazy fair and checking out few bands - but this time I set out to do a couple of new things.

Only a ten minute collectivo ride away is the rural village of San Juan Chamula. It's only real attraction is a church and, given how many of those there are around here, it might not generate much enthusiasm. But this place was different. Spooky, ethereal, haunting, mysterious. It's hard to find the word for a barren building, filled with efigies of countless saints, coated with pine leaves and laden with tens of thousands of candles, lit by pilgrims in ornate shapes on the ground. Religion continues to lose me completely. Yet, whatever it is these people have been made to believe, someone did a bloody good job on them.

The other, longer, day trip that must be done is the canyon sumidero, a collosal fissure in the ground with cliffs almost 1km high. A high speed tourist boat can be taken down the river which runs through the canyon, complete with croccodile sightings (I reckon they were stuffed). Just take sunscreen, a tonne of water and a wide brimmed hat.

So, after a few bottles of Bohemia, my favourite Mexican beer, it was time to finally add a new country to the roster. Guatemala here I come.

Zacatecas (Mexico) - wonderous easter gem

The city of Zacatecas is a magical place and one I am sure would capture the heart at any time of year. It becomes really special by adding a major arts festival, coinciding with holy week, and one of the best views in town on the roof of a 100 peso budget hotel. A vista only bettered by riding the Swiss built teleferico - and that took a 1 hour wait.

Stone paved streets, surrounded by large, amazing buildings - built on silver money in the 17th century - are brought to life by music, dance and theatre on every corner. Artists and craft stalls pepper the paths, with huge crowds everywhere. The blessing is that the tourists are largely Mexican families, from cities across the country, not gringos with flashing cameras. A curious cultural mix has been put together. I saw a mariachi band, the Mexican Muse (or so I thought), experimental Quebecois jazz and A Clockwork Orange - as part of a Stanley Kubrick series.

Once the culture ends, the serious business of drinking tequila starts. A myriad of odd bars are tucked away in the narrow streets. At Huracan, all the staff are all dressed as professional wrestlers, yet the interior design features religious inconography. In a more traditional mould, Las Quince Letras is the oldest bar in town and crams enough people in to make health and safety professionals drop dead. The night has to end in what is only known as 'la discoteque en la mina', because that's what it is... a nightclub at the bottom of disused silver mine.

Chihuahua (Mexico) - give it a miss

Firstly, the answer to the obvious question: no there wasn't one single Paris Hilton style dog sighting over two days. Secondly, apart from the good company of some hilarious Mexicans, two days was about 47 hours too long.

There are nice enough, old style buildings in the centre and there is good street food - like plastic cups of sweetcorn, mayo, cheese, lime and chilli. But nothing in either department to match some of this country's other cities. I did make the effort and visit the old pad of Pancho Villa - bandit turned revolutionary - who was murdered Kennedy style in the back of a motorcadce. Perhaps the most interesting display was a glut of weapons used in the uprisings.

Other highlights were a strange cultural mix of watching baseball (like every team I support, the Dorados were murdered, 11-2), a visit to a bar with a museum glued to its roof (La Rocca) and playing guitar hero on the Wii with the guys I stayed with.

Probably not enough to justify the stay, although I did take on the challenge of cooking an Indian chicken curry. Well, they asked for a traditional English meal and I couldn't see Yorkshire puddings really working.

Creel (Mexico) - remarkable landscape and cheap hangout

Creel proved to be a visually stimulating and relaxing place to hang out for a few days. Even better it was laughably good value: 100 pesos for bed, breakfast and a communal dinner with other travellers. Bargain.

Exploring the local scenery, by foot and mountain bike, delivered the treasures of the Valleys of the Mushrooms, Monks and Frogs - amazing rock formations that dominate the vista. I could sort of see the first two. But the froggies, not sure.

The town itself it small and charming, if a bit touristy. A trip to the musuem can occupy, erm, fifteen minutes or so. I was intrigued by a famed indigenous game, called Rarajipari, where players have to run 100 miles with a ball balanced on their foot. According to the signs, it is very similar to the English game of cricket. In the evening, dinner usually turned into drinks with a crew of people from around the world, all who could speak pretty good Spanish. One evening a small gang ended up watching a sensational guitar player and lady singer, playing in a coffee shop. Why can't I play guitar like that guy? Beautiful stuff.

Future thought to end: could I have time on return to simultaneously study Spanish, guitar, yoga, cooking and my MBA?

Barranca Del Cobre (Mexico) - amazing, yet over-hyped

Mexico's copper canyon, and the train ride through it, are billed as wonders of the world and must do's. They are both certainly pretty impressive. However, the higher your expectations, the greater the chances of feeling just a little let down.

The start of the journey was, unfortunately, the grim town of Los Mochis where the early departure meant staying the night. Perhaps I should have taken Lonely Planets warning about the hotel I chose more seriously. How bad can dirty, rat infested, loud music and prostitutes really be?

It didn't get much better when I arrived at the station to discover the cheapo train didn't run that day and the expensive one left in just five minutes. A choice between paying over the odds, or staying another night in seedy hotel, had to be made quickly. So speedily in fact, that once I did board the premium train, I was without basic essentials for a 12 hour trips, like water and food. At the mercy of horrendous on-board prices I was.

Still, in hindsight, a few days after being raped to the tune of $20 for breakfast, the view from the train was pretty impressive for large parts of the journey. It climbs over 2000m, so the route winds and twists continuously, through steep valleys, across wide rivers, past forests and through farms. Certainly not a train journey to fall asleep on. As I did.

Baja California Sur (Mexico) - detox and dialogue

In fairness to a place of great natural beauty, I didn't really do justice to the Baja Sur, spending most of my time there on buses, or asleep. Yet, after almost 6 weeks of over-doing it, a wind-down was much needed. Hard work this travelling.

A long (18 hour), expensive (1000 peso) and ridiculously cold bus trip took me to the small town of Loreto. The town is super sleepy, except for a scary five or six hours during the day when the cruise ship gets into town. Mucho americanos. Time to hide. Otherwise, I did absolutely nothing for two days, apart from wander aimlessly around the harbour and 17th century mission. But having my own room for the first time in ages was a rare treat - even though it was average at best.

Next stop was La Paz for a couple of nights where at least I saw a few beaches, took a swim and watched the sunset every night. The highlight though was a night watching Mexico vs Honduras in a locals bar, learning - and forgeting - Mexican slang. At least I remember 'chiquita mama'. A classic, not that you see many of them around these parts.

Getting off the Baja required an expensive ferry trip. Still, a few beers and a game of cards later, in the laughable 80's style on-board bar, and I was on the mainland and ready to hit the road.

Future thought to end... in what ways can I keep my Spanish going in Australia?