I have been AWOL. Mostly because I have been busy living and trying to stay present during my travels! My birthday, Christmas and the New Year happen to have hijacked my engagement with the digital world.
I am writing this from the mountains surrounding Oaxaca, and yet again I have a travel story to share…
I had mentally prepared myself for a Christmas that would look different this year. And I had tried to accept that. What made it easier was that I ended up being surrounded by a beautiful bunch of travellers - mostly Brits - at a yoga guesthouse that has a jaw dropping view.
We decided to rustle up a Mexican-inspired Christmas meal, along with some classic British and German dishes. And of course plenty of wine, mezcal and beer.
The day was pretty much perfect. My lack of expectations and family drama probably played a part! We played games, cooked together, blasted out Christmas songs, and generally enjoyed each other’s company. We were positively stuffed by the end of the meal, and so we decided to go on a classic Christmas walk to a viewpoint nearby.
We trudged up to the viewpoint with overly full bellies and chatted as we went. We were a group of 8.
We made it to the cross by sunset, and the view was spectacular. It felt like a really special moment. As we began to descend, however, we noticed a hooded and masked figure approaching us. I quickly threw my phone behind a rock as I had a bad gut feeling.
At this point we had separated into 2 groups of 4, some of us were lagging behind. There was the unmistakable sound of a gun being adjusted, and we froze in fear. From afar we could see the group of boys slowly realising the gravity of the situation as they were told to get on their knees and empty their pockets. Two boys were forced to give up their iPhones, and one of the guys handed over 2000 Mexican pesos.
The hooded figure then made his way to us girls, he shouted at us in Spanish, and patted us down to check for valuables. We desperately communicated that we had no money to offer up, and no valuables (somehow the other girls managed to conceal their phones well). At one point he demanded us to all get on our knees - this was when the anxiety that I felt turned into a certain belief that this was it. He pointed his gun at us as he patted us down again, but he suddenly decided that he was satisfied with what he had managed to get from us, and started to shoo us away. He seemed panicked and nervous, almost as though it was his first time doing this.
I was forced to leave my phone behind the rock as I didn’t want to risk him seeing me bend down for it (I went back for it the next day). We hurriedly ran down the hill as he watched us leave, breathing sighs of relief and rambling about how shocked we were at what had just happened.
I am still amazed at how calm and composed we all remained in a situation that was genuinely life-threatening, and at how we managed to save Christmas once we arrived back at the guesthouse and decided to play games that would lift our spirits (they worked). We joked about it, but only really started processing what had happened in the days that followed.
The important part is that we all escaped unscathed. And we had each other for support; it was quite the bonding experience. Up until now I haven’t been in such a dangerous situation, and it is clear that someone must be incredibly desperate and hopeless to have done such a thing on Christmas Day. My perception of Mexicans is hugely positive - they are incredibly helpful and warm people. This perception won’t change. Situations like this feel like simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have learnt from it, and I definitely won’t be forgetting this Christmas any time soon.