Gnarled, quinoa-stained fingers reach towards us from behind an intricately-carved and eminently-Intragrammable mahogany doorway, and then the yoga pants-clad creature claws its way towards us. Eyes rolling within its peeling skull, tongue flapping in its mouth like a dying fish, the hippy shuffles forth, muttering obscenities about ayahuasca and the patriarchy. The stench – an acrid mixture of blueberry vape smoke and unwashed armpits – … Continue reading La Mano Verde, San Pedro, Guatemala