Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
the day. This killed ninety minutes of my day and made things much
more difficult, but I did it anyway. Then, as we were approaching the
border, a message came through that six of the Mexican national run-
ning team wanted to run the last 20 kilometres out of Mexico with me.
It was good, but it was bad. The Mexican runners were fresh, and I was
tired, and because we all have a competitive streak it turned into a
race, of course. I did well, but I was wrecked at the end.
As I ended my run in Mexico and neared the border with Guate-
mala, I found myself running down a hill. At the bottom was the river
that divides Mexico from the republic of Guatemala. Right there, I saw
the biggest flag I have ever seen, the Mexican flag. As it flapped in the
breeze high above my head it blocked out the sun.
Finally, I reached the border, and there was much fanfare from
the Mexican press saying goodbye and wanting my thoughts on their
nation. Having simply run through the place, I was no expert, but I
was happy to talk to them about my abiding personal memories of
their land. There were many Mexican highlights, such as my swim in
the Gulf of Mexico with my little brother Chris. The water had been
cool and fresh, and a big moon had been shining brightly. I'd told
Chris that this was a special moment for me, and he said it was for him
too, because who'd have thought two kids from Sydney's west could
ever experience such a thing? I'd marvelled at the vivid lime-greens
and orange paint jobs on the houses we passed, the tropical jungles,
the exotic fruits—pineapples, mangoes, lychees, coconuts—and the
enormous wind farms on the Pacific side of the country. This has
been another country of rivers and bridges. It's been dangerous more
in terms of washed-out roads and precarious cliffs on which one trip
could have seen me fall into a ravine than in terms of Mexican drug
cartels. I have never seen so many guns. I haven't felt threatened at any
stage, though, and I probably didn't need my heavily armed army and
police escort. Still, who knows? If I hadn't had an escort, perhaps the
drug bandits and kidnappers would have felt bold enough to attack
me. Best I don't know.
