From luchador wrestling in Mexico to volunteering at an iguana station and partying in Miami, writer and musician Johnathan Cilia has seen it all. He shares parts of his travel journal.

Tell us something about yourself.

I was born in Sydney, Australia, and came to Malta when I was 10, largely against my will. My father is Maltese and my mother is Scottish, which makes me rather confused as to where my motherland is. I work as a writer and a musician and spend most of my time observing and learning about cultures. My favourite mediums to do this through are writing, music and travelling – but writing and music is usually more accessible on a day to day basis and much more affordable.

How often do you travel?

Anything between two to five times a year. I’ve only been abroad once this year, but when I lived in Amsterdam or London I took advantage and travelled as much as I could on the mainland. Sadly, it was mainly by Megabus or even hitchhiking, so it wasn’t exactly the jet set life.

Do you remember your first time abroad?

From Sydney to Malta and Scotland, aged four, and then again aged eight. I remember being excited to see my extended family in Malta and to see the land where this crazy language my father was trying to teach me came from.

When we finally got to Malta and went to the razzett where all my aunts and uncles where, we entered into a large room and everyone was sitting by the walls, forming a large circle around the room, which I learnt was common for Maltese people to do when celebrating something. This is how I met my Maltese family, going around the circle from aunt to uncle, cousin to cousin, with Radju Maria playing in the background.

Best holiday ever and why?

Different countries offer different packages. Some offer divine food with terrible people, amazing art with terrible people or very nice people with nothing else to offer, like in Bratislava, for example. Taking all of this into account, my nine-week holiday through Central America stands out.

We left London and went straight to Houston, Texas, where I discovered the real meaning of ghetto. Already way out of our depth, we landed in Honduras’s financial capital, San Pedro Sula, also known as the murder capital of the world.

We couldn’t even get travel insurance for that place and when we got there we saw why, even though they have very tasty bananas.

Just make sure when you ask for a vegetarian Alambre, you stress that bacon is not a vegetable

After driving by people roaming the streets with shotguns, we hurried on to a tiny island just off Honduras called Utila, which has a population of 3,500 and makes Malta seem like a metropolis. It has one main road, and three and a half side roads and it is a diver’s paradise, with over 60 diving sites and an incredibly diverse marine life. It also has an incredibly diverse human life, made up of fiery local Latinos, serene Garifuna (descendants of displaced West African slaves) and enthusiastic Westerners looking for an escape.

After three weeks there, volunteering at an Iguana Station and getting our diving licences, we made our way to Miami for a week of partying (Club Liv gets especially turned up, America really does everything bigger) and enjoying hot water and first world conditions, before heading down to Mexico for about a month.

We went through Mexico city (home of La Cubana and the most intense public transport system ever), Oaxaca (home of the Mole sauce), San Cristobal de las Casas (home of the Zapatistas) and Palanque (home of El Panchan and the sounds of the jungle).

Mexico’s incredible history and culture has given it one of the richest modern cultures I have ever seen, and I cannot fully enunciate here.

However, I will talk about the food in Mexico, which is second to none - you can give a Mayan descendant some beans, tortillas, chilli and cheese and they will make you 10 different dishes, all incredible.

We were flabbergasted to see how westernised our idea of Mexican food was (burritos do not exist in Mexico) and choosing a favourite dish would do the nation a disservice, but the alambre stands out. Just make sure when you ask for a vegetarian alambre, you stress that bacon is not a vegetable.

After Mexico’s foods and temples, we went to the enchanting island city of Flores, Guatemala for a week, before heading back to San Pedro Sula before a quick stop in New York City for 24 sleepless hours before heading back home to Europe.

Which place would you never visit and why?

I’ve been let down a few times by people talking highly of a place just for it to be basic.

While there isn’t anywhere specific in mind that I wouldn’t travel to, I would definitely research any possible location to make sure it offers something I’m interested in, which most places should be able to do.

Best travel companion?

A dictionary, a map and a local, if possible.

What do you usually look for when you travel?

A strong national culture usually implies a strong chance of a good holiday. Places like France, the US, Mexico, those with a strong identity and rich heritage, usually means that I will find something to do. Whether it’s food, clubbing, art, or history depends on the country. But I, definitely, need at least one museum, one top level party and one high-grade restaurant/street food vendor per holiday. And, if needed in that country, one decent protest won’t go amiss (thanks Barcelona, 2009).

The perfect holiday would be?

A week-long music festival curated in the Louvre, with the ends of each halls decked with kiosks manned by chefs from Michelin-starred restaurants. In place of the Mona Lisa would be a dubstep stage. The themes of the artworks would be matched, somehow, with music genres, so you could be surrounded by sculptures and be listening to the appropriate music, like French Techno or Italian Minimal.

If the Louvre is unavailable, the Vatican would be a great second choice – an acid house rave in the Sistine Chapel alone would be worth any entrance fee. In case someone wants to fund this, call me.

What’s the furthest you’ve been from home?

The Patagonian mountains in Argentina. The area has an otherwordly feel, so it comes as no surprise that there is a whole bestiary of monsters that were believed to be living there. Driving through the amazing scenery in our rented Chevrolet was a highlight of that trip, apart from the unlimited beef from the asado (barbecue) and the local Malbec.

Package tours or DIY?

Definitely DIY. However, I did find that in some remote places, it’s much easier to book a day tour to a specific destination you want to go to rather than book a series of taxis and buses.

In South Mexico, these tours were especially useful since it would have cost so much more and taken much more time to do some of the things we wanted to do by ourselves, like reach certain temples or even cross into Guatemala.

Living on a mainland, or travelling large distances, puts your perspective in line

What the best travel advice you can give?

Research before you plan.

And what’s the worst piece of advice you’ve been given?

That Argentina catered to coeliacs and had a diverse menu. My repeated cries of ‘pan sin glutin? leche sin lactosa?’ were met with scepticism, fear and laughter. In one remote area I was nearly run out of town for this line of questioning. It was beef, all day, every day. Not that I was complaining, but then again I was not the one with dietary restrictions.

The one place you never get tired of visiting?

Well, since I lived in London and Amsterdam and know those cities pretty well and have some good friends there, I never tire of them, apart from both of them being amazing cities.

London is the kind of place that will let you enjoy a day at Hampstead Heath with a nice jug of Pimm’s; then a world premiere of some Hollywood/Indie film; attend two exhibition openings at two separate galleries; then see an elusive underground DJ from across the world. All in one day and while everyone is polite and apologising for not offering more and accidentally bumping into you.

Amsterdam is just a magical city, from the beautifully pragmatic and tolerant (as long as you don’t annoy me) worldview, to its compactness and cobble stone roads, to its ability to allow you to enjoy things that are illegal all over the world, while calmly eating a well-buttered street vended corn-on-the-cob and surrounded by magnificent swans, all at once.

Describe one memory that stuck with you from a place.

Attending a proper lucha libre event in Mexico. I had attended a big flashy Americanised fight in Mexico City, which was great, but I knew there was a more underground scene. And in Oaxaca we found one. The common theme of a lucha fight is that there are the good guys and the bad guys, and the good guys make the crowd cheer, and the bad guys make the crowd boo. This is a family event in Mexico, with adults getting in for about four US dollars and kids getting in at under two.

So, there are the kids, the parents, the cousins, the grandparents, all hanging out on a Sunday evening after church, watching the local sporting event, having the biblical theme of good vs evil played out in the flesh. And I mean in the flesh – when they brought out the flamethrowers, I knew it was about to go down.

What’s the one thing you would never do in a foreign country?

Be rude, or assume that everyone speaks English.

Travel is important to you because?

You begin to realise how tiny you are and how everything that is in your world really isn’t everyone else’s world. Especially in Malta, it’s so easy to feel like Malta is pretty much everything since we are disconnected by sea. Living on a mainland, or travelling large distances, puts your perspective in line.

What has travel taught you?

That there are a million ways to live your life, a million ways to be happy, a million things to believe in and a million ways to die.

Where would you retire and why?

Gozo. I always said Malta was probably among the best places to retire to in the world, but with the recent deterioration in quality of traffic, overcrowding and lack of parking spaces, I had to update to Gozo. Plus, Għarb has one of the cutest little squares around.