It’s time to re-learn the international waiter language of elbows-out clucking and the moo-cow first-finger horns. Menus mirror the early aspirations of the proprietor not the food options. Giblets and gizzard? That’ll do nicely. No, I’ll give seconds a miss today; je dois garder ma ligne, yes.

Oh, to be rich again. My ripped khakis are no longer hid embarrassed under long shirts. Now they’re the most expensive item in town. Traveller chic? I invented it sunshine. An orgasmic Versace in a Thai backpacker beach cocaine epiphany burst that seam, sure she did my dear. Still people don’t get my bike. Disbelieving stares continue. But funny how “what the fuck is that?” can, if you move the emphasis, change from disgust to wonder,.

But Mexico. What a place. It’s given me something to say to people from the USA when they ask me what’s the best thing about their country: why proximity to Mexico of course. (Haven’t got to try it yet. I’m guessing on a short sinking-in pause, followed by a series of blowing noises. Conversation stoppers, I have them too.) It’s got yer stunning old colonial town centres, to rival anything in Spain; yer ancient cities in the jungle; mountains, beaches, oceans, plains and deserts all in one day. Open friendly people too. Where have all those stupid inaccurate prejudices come from? As if we didn’t know.

Horse power

It’s the usual IMF-World Bank deal of course-give away your economy to the multinationals, defence policy to the northern neighbour and in return the top percentiles get mobile phones, posh cloth for the body and drive on all four wheels. The rest? Well, we have an exceptionally generous subvention for internal security for them. I’m guessing this pattern is going to repeat itself a few time between here and Argentina.

This is how it should be--my left arm sore from waving at village children. How perfect. Overlanding proper. Fun, no. Romantic, not at all. Easy, no way. But coming over that rise today on that slow left-hander, the valley opening out, the sun on my back and the pine in the air…well, the my world was bling bling bling.