I've been waiting for lightening bolt of inspiration to come before starting this blog, however I'm feeling more and more sure that I just need to get writing and not think about it too much.

So why write a blog? Firstly to let you folks back home know how the trips going, and secondly, to to keep an account i can look back on and reminisce in years to come. With that in mind I'll start at the beginning...

Packing up our stuff in the flat and tying up loose ends before setting off was bit of a mission and took us right up until the last minute: I was still trying to arrange a meeting with a guy interested in buying Lynz' Iphone at 23:30pm the night before we left. So I was feeling a bit sleepy when the alarm went at 1:30am to go to the airport. Although our flight wasn't until 6:30, Lynz' insisted we leave with plenty of time to spare. Having had less than 2 hours sleep, I could have resented the 2 hours we spent watching people clean a closed Edinburgh airport, but having missed flights in the past due purely to complacency I thought it best that the wife called the shots on this occasion.

Needless to say, our early weekday flight to London was not full of fellow backpackers. Sharing our first flight with people on their way to work put our trip into a surreal perspective. What we were doing was finally starting to sink in.

Our flight from Gatwick to Cancun was a comfortable one. Having done most of our flying in recent years on Ryanair, it was nice have a comfy BA seat, with films to watch and other good stuff. Whether I could restrain myself from all the free bevvy was in question at one point, but I rained it in and after a few hours kip felt brand new.

We had a smashing wee apartment in Cancun, managed by an interesting, borderline eccentric, Canadian woman. Despite only being 10 years our senior, she described us as her 'cute little babies'. The small empire of holiday properties that her and her husband had amassed suggested her head might not quite be as empty as it first appeared. The truth is, she was lovely. Always stopping by to visit and make sure we had everything we needed. The apartment had a small balcon and a roof terrace with a panoramic view of the long hotel lined beach. We spent a relaxing 3 days there, by the pool, on the beach and chilling in the apartment. We also had an invitation to lunch with Karolina: a former SWIP teammate who was in town for a conference. It was surprisingly reassuring to see a friendly, familiar face despite only having been away for a couple of days. Thanks Karolina.

With limited money and limited shops near our apartment, we found ourselves eating toast pretty much the whole time. We didn't mind though. This was a period of exciting realisation. Realisation that our foreseeable future was going to be one exotic holiday after another. Lots of smiling and laughter.

2 Hours down the road lay our next destination, Tulum. Another fantastic beach, but this time much more sensitively developed. Mayan style beach huts and wooden staircases up to open, Caribbean facing bars and restaurants, rather than the enormous concrete hotel complexes standing shoulder to shoulder of Cancun. Sadly due to our tight budget we were staying several miles from the beach in a charismatic, yet slightly grimy, hostel at the far end of the town of Tulum. While the town was clearly a haven for holiday makers and backpackers , our location on the outskirts did give us an insight into everyday Mexican life, including the cyclists passing periodically, honking a horn to indicate bread for sale, ringing a bell for maze snacks, and so on. Also the never ending music emanating from shops and homes alike, filling the streets. Almost all of it traditional Mexican music. Lots of trumpets, guitars, and so on. Here we ate good food, met nice people visited Maya ruins and much more. Lovely stuff.

Our third and current destination was 3 bus journeys and a days travel from Tulum, south into Belize. Currently, I am swinging gently around on our double bed, suspended from the palm beems that form the skeleton of our cabana, which sits on stilts, a few meters from the Rio Honda. We're staying with a lovely family in a rural village, surrounded by the sights and sounds of the jungle (as well as more loud, but not unwelcome, music from our neighbours). Yesterday we went down to the houseboat of 'Meester Rod': a fascinating man, originally from Texas, who chose to make San Antonio his home, for the second time in his life, 4 years ago. We canoed with Rod into the jungle until the sun became too hot. The birds here are so beautiful (read into that what you will). Fantastico.

Soon we'll go to a local cenote; hopefully we can swim there.

Not sure I'll be documenting the next 340 odd days in the same detail, but there you have it.

So, so good.