One of the major hazards of driving in central America is the things that run out in front of you; chickens, dogs, pigs and children. After ten weeks of driving we had become accustomed to seeing dead dogs in the road and swerving to avoid adding to the numbers. I guess it was only a matter of time until my reactions would fail me. It happened whilst driving through one of the several mountain villages in Alta Verapaz, Guatemala. We were crawling along the road which was lined with fruit selling stalls when a dog ran out from the left. I didn't even see it as I was more concerned about avoiding the children to my right. Amanda saw the dog and screamed at me to stop but by the time I hit the brakes the front wheel had gone over the dog, killing it.

As if running over the dog wasn't upsetting enough, what happened next was probably the scariest moment of my life. If this had happened in the UK my only concern would be for the dog. As events unfolded my own and Amanda's life became my only concern. Of all the empty roads in Guatemala I had to hit a dog in the presence of an audience. In my rear view mirror I noticed a man running towards the car and immediately knew that a situation was about to develop.

The man approached the left hand side of the car, thinking that Amanda was driving, and proceeded to walk around to my door. As he approached, indicating to us to get out of the car I noticed that he had one hand on a gun tucked down his trousers. We then had to decide whether to obey him and get out of the car or make a run for it. Having heard reports of rural communities taking the law into their own hands in the form of lynchings, getting out of the car was not an option. The problem with making a run for it was that the Land Rover is not exactly the fastest car in the world (you can practically run faster than it can accelerate). This was exacerbated by the fact that we were in the mountains one and a half hours away from safety and we had no way of knowing if this guy cared so much about the dog (or the money that he was hoping to extort from us) that he would follow us, if indeed he had a vehicle to follow us in.

Thinking quickly I asked Amanda to talk the man into letting us pull over to the side of the road, which she did whilst another man pulled the dog out from under the car. This allowed me to get the vehicle moving without the man becoming suspicious. I then floored the accelerator and pulled away up the hill, at what seemed like a crawl. In my rear mirror I saw the man pull the gun from his trousers and take aim. This was the first Amanda had seen of the gun. Luckily no shots were fired.

Every car that came up behind us invoked fear. Needless to say we arrived at Coban safely after what seemed like a lifetime. That night we treated ourselves to a comfortable hotel and a couple of beers.

The following day we discussed our experience with an American friend who has lived in Guatemala for years. He assured us that we had done the right thing, although he urged us not to stop at all in future.