Traveling to Guatemala by slingshot

Date: 11/8/2016

My friend Tim and I were on our way to the 'airport'... we were going to Guatemala. We got there but it wasn't really an airport, it was some old, rusty shed and there was a huge slingshot attached to the side. We were going to get there by slingshot. You could pay $10 to rent a bike, apparently it made the slingshot work better. So i pick up the huge, stretchy piece of rubber, sit in it while walking backwards. I get it full stretch and jump, i fly forward but tumble out and crash into a tree. So i walk back and try again, Tim waits, he'll go after me. I set it up again and this time it works. I fly low to the ground but very, very fast. As fast as a jet, i see the world in a blur, this was only about 5 seconds, i could see Guatemala coming up fast, i tumble to a stop. I'm in a busy city, people everywhere, it's night, there's rusty old signs, neon signs, steam rising from food stalls. I've never been to south America but it was a lot like a busy Asian city, like Kuala lumpur. I'll find a hostel to stay at while i wait for Tim to arrive. I find one and it's crazy! Like something from a Wes Anderson film. It was an old colonial looking building, weather boards, white, a little old and run down, about 5 or 6 stories with big balconys on every level and just like the bustling street there were people swinging out the windows, shouting, singing, drinking, it was all very merry and fun. I check in. And join the party, drinking some strange cocktail. I look out the window and see an old school friend, "Harry!" I shout and wave, she looks up smiles and waves, she comes back across the road to talk. Her partner Martin was playing a tin whistle and i compliment him on his playing, he was playing a fast jig. I wish i could have recalled the tune. I explain that i'm waiting for Tim but haven't heard from him. She looks at me with a frown and passes me her phone. Tim was on the line, "Tim! Where are you?!" I have to shout because it was loud on the street. "Tim! I can't hear you!" I run across the road, almost getting hit by a scooter. Across a grassy area to a kind of stone trough, it had oil bubbling away in it, like some big strange deep fryer. I sit down and talk to Tim, "What happened?" "I'm a bit embarrassed" he sadly said, "I wasn't allowed out of the country because of a crime. Last time i was in Tauranga(a city in New Zealand) i stole some seafood." "Thievery." "Yes" "Well that's not too bad! It could have been worse! You could have kidnaped someone or worse yet, murdered someone." "I guess you're right." "Don't worry about it." I hang up and some how have the seafood he had stolen. Some bearded, homeless looking guys that had been sitting close came over and we cooked and ate the seafood in the oil trough. / Notes: When Tim said Tauranga, i immediately got a mental image of Tauranga but it was from a dream i had one time about Tauranga. So this dream referenced another dream. The mental image isn't even representative of Tauranga, more southern Italy or Tuscany, white stone and wineries. Interesting though.