Car Trip 15

It was only a 63 mile drive from Veracruz to Xalapa. (ha-la-pa) That does not mean that it went quickly however! As I recall, it took about two hours. But it was a great drive. In that short 63 miles, we rose from sea level to 4637' above sea level! A bit of a climb! Xalapa is snuggled into the beginning of the vast Sierra Madre range and is totally located within those rolling hills. The city itself has many terraced levels and parks. The three of us liked Xalapa immediately and were very glad that we had left Veracruz early. This little gem of a city was certainly worth it!

We checked into a hotel that we had decided upon during the drive. We would be thankful to the Lonely Planet guide many times during this trip for aiding us in finding good lodging. There were a few things that they had wrong, like certain facts about Mexico City, but that will come later! Our room was fantastic and one of the nicest ones we had on the trip. It was actually a suite with three double beds. There were huge windows that opened on two sides of the room and we had a great view of the higher mountain ranges in the distance.

We spent most of the first afternoon exploring the city. I especially liked the town square.



It varied from most squares in that there was no band shell, but all paths did strike out like bike spokes from the center. Besides having an open feel with lots of hedges and trees, the best part was how it was built. One entered from street level and then the other three sides had been built up to make the square a terrace. To get to street level on either side or the back, one had to descend a series of steps. The view from the square was incredible. Sadly for me, we had to tear ourselves away in order to see other parts of the city. We headed down the 42 steps at the back of the square and came out at street level. And yet we still were descending down a hill. Our goal was a series of five lakes that were surrounded by a park and walkway. Sort of like Lake Calhoun and Lake of the Isles, for all you Minnesotans! We located and entered the beautiful state theater, also built on a hill, and browsed our way through it. Coming out the other side, we were deposited squarely on the pathway around the lakes we had been looking for! We had a perfectly lovely stroll for a while around the lake and then eventually cut back in towards the city. We passed by a large elementary school that was having some sort of field soccer day or try-outs. It was quite fun to watch this little bit of real life.

Of course, since we had started our walking tour by going downhill, the way back was going to be grueling. Hills, hills and more hills. L had warned us before we started this trip that there would be a lot of walking. Boy, he wasn’t kidding. But I had thought it would be on flat land, not all these hills and steps! B and I had started a walking program about a month before we left and thought we were in pretty good shape. That was proven wrong over and over as we needed to stop and take a rest from all this uphill stuff.

There is a particular street that we were looking for. The name translates to "Alley of Diamonds". I am not sure why. We circled around to the top of the hill so that our journey down this alley, and it was indeed an alley, would be downhill. It was totally fascinating and populated by mostly young, hippie types. The whole street is just a series of shops, stalls, small restaurants and coffee shops. They were selling everything from homemade jewelry to used books. And quite an incline too! I marveled again at the Mexican women in their high heels calmly negotiating cobblestones streets and on a hill to boot! We paused at one of the coffee shops and watched the world swirl by us for awhile. I enjoyed the rest immensely!

After a siesta and a nice dinner, we decided that we wouldn’t mind having a drink somewhere. That proved to be harder than we thought. There was a serious lack of public bars, cantinas or places to just sit and have a drink. Certainly not what we are used to here on the island! We located this strange little place not far from our hotel. It said bar so we went in. It was very small inside with even smaller tables. We chose one near the window, which was covered with a venetian blind. After surveying our fellow customers, we came to the conclusion that this was some sort of "gentlemen’s bar". No, not a gay bar, more like the "men only" lounge in a country club. Very, very strange. It appeared that public drinking was a serious no-no in Xalapa. We looked in the guide book later and despite the fact that Xalapa has 310,000 people, the Entertainment section does not list one single bar, disco or dance club.

What Xalapa does have in great abundance is coffee bars. They are everywhere, sometimes four in a block! We stopped at many of them in the two days we were there, but not this night. We went straight from the bar back to the hotel. It had been another long day.

Car Trip 14

We were jolted awake from a sound sleep at 4 in the morning by sounds coming from the street below. It sounded like a fight or at least a good argument. We peered out the window and quickly identified the problem. It appeared that the street our hotel was located on, only three blocks from the center of town, was prostitute alley! Oh, we had chosen so well! There were three of them down there, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. L understands and speaks Spanish quite well and was able to determine that it was some kind of turf dispute. There was also something going on about stealing a John. None of that mattered though. What mattered was the noise they were making! It didn’t take long for more and more people to gather and join in. If it hadn’t been quite so early in the morning, it would have been amusing. We watched this bit of sideshow for about an hour and then they all just drifted away. Back to bed for a few more hours of sleep.

I had planned our schedule for the day quite carefully. B and I had located all the departure points for the tours we wanted to take the day before so we could appear to be organized. L is a professional tour guide and arranging and organizing groups and tours is his life. But this was my day to be in charge and I merrily took control of our activities. The first thing I did was lead our little group to a small restaurant close by the hotel. It had looked great the day before but that was probably because it was Sunday. Plus they had outdoor seating, which is always a plus. As soon as we ordered we knew it was not going to be good. Just to give you an idea, the waitress eventually found a coffee pot and walked across the little plaza to another restaurant and bought coffee from them to serve to us! The food was not much better. This was easily the worst breakfast on the trip so far! Strike one for Wayne.

I had planned that we would take a tour of the city in one of the double decker buses, sitting up top of course. After that, we were going to head to the harbor and take a boat tour. Then maybe take in a museum or two. All in all, a perfectly planned, fun and somewhat educational day. I led our group to where the buses were parked. I was not surprised to see so many of them lined up, since we were out and about very early. I was surprised, however, to discover that they do not run at all, no tours at all, on Mondays! Bummer. Strike two for Wayne.

So off to the harbor. I was a little apprehensive as I saw the boats all lined up with not a soul on them, not even a driver! (what does one call somebody who is in control of the boat?) We walked along the long row of deserted boats until we found a sign in front of the very last one, or the one furthest out on the seawall. Again, no tours on Mondays! Strike three for Wayne.

I was greatly disappointed that all my planning had been for nothing. None of the guidebooks I had consulted mentioned a thing about these tours being closed on Monday. And I felt that I had let B and L down. They, of course, were very kind about it and did not tease me too much about my great tour leader capabilities!

We wondered around the harbor area for awhile and took some pictures. It was really cloudy that day, no sun at all. We discussed going to the museum (which was probably closed anyway!) and decided to give it a miss. None of us were particularly impressed with Veracruz. I especially was disappointed after having looked forward to coming back and really seeing the city for months. So after very little discussion at all, we decided to go get our stuff from the hotel and head out to Xalapa, our next destination, a day early. We were all looking forward to seeing this city.

Car Trip 13

We awoke on Sunday morning desperately needing a cup of coffee. I threw on my clothes from last night, which were piled in the corner by my bed. They were in the corner not because I am a slob but because there was nothing to put them on! After making sure that I had plenty of coins, I headed down to the lobby area to get us some morning java. I am here to tell you, when you need your morning caffeine, even vending machine coffee is manna from heaven. Having survived the morning deluge, commonly called a shower, we headed out for breakfast. But we had an important stop to make first. The front desk!

We simply asked if we could look at a different room and the woman at the desk handed us a key and pointed to another set of stairs, deeper in the lobby. So up we went, another four flight of stairs! This trip was starting to take on a flavor of a lot of climbing. The room was much better. It even had two windows for cross ventilation and a view to the street below. We immediately grabbed our stuff and changed rooms!

We returned to the town square and had a semi decent breakfast at one of the restaurants under the arches. Then we decided to go back to the seawall and maybe do a little shopping. We bought some Veracruzean coffee, which is quite good, for ourselves and to bring back to select people in our lives on the island. Not really being in the mood for shopping, we just strolled aimlessly. We ended up seeing the divers again and threw a few coins for them again. My amazement at their willingness to enter that garbage water was just as strong as it had been yesterday. I had a mission while in Veracruz also. Jaimie and I had had our first taste of Sol Negra here. A dark version of my favorite beer. I really like it and I wanted to find some to buy and take back to the island.

I dragged poor B to every convenience store I could find in the area. They all sold beer. They all sold Sol. None of them sold Sol Negra. I was hugely disappointed but not enough to loose any sleep over it! Speaking of sleep, that is exactly what we did! We went back to our room and settled in for a little siesta. L was due to arrive to join us on the rest of the trip at around 2:30pm.

At the appointed time of 2:30pm, we were waiting patiently in the lobby for L to show up from his flight. A little after 3pm the clerk at the front desk called us to the phone. It was L. He was having flight problems and delays and would be another 3 hours to get there! We didn’t like this news but felt sorry for him. He had just flown from San Jose, Costa Rica to Mexico City and then encountered the problems. It was going to be a long day for him! But he eventually did arrive and, after dumping his stuff off in the room, we headed out to show him the town. Or at least the parts of it we knew! It was dark by the time we got to the square so we had dinner and a few drinks. I had led them back to the restaurant where Jaimie and I had first encountered Sol Negra and, sure enough, they still had it on the menu! Perfect ending to a long day.

Car Trip 12

Saturday night on the town square of Veracruz is a party. There were people everywhere. From the elegantly dressed to blue jeans, all mixing and mingling, drinking and eating. One could feel the energy level coming from the throngs. It was really quite invigorating. On one side of the rather large town square sits the municipal building with its’ marvelous arches stretching the entire length. And under the roof that the arches support is every type of restaurant imaginable. Finding a spot at one of them was a horse of a totally different color. We finally found a spot at the very last one in the line. This was fine with us because we really did not want to be accosted by the multitude of hawkers and musicians. Of course, no matter where you sat, you were not immune to them. The vendors, selling CD’s, peanuts, balloons, telephone cards, watches and DVD’s, bobbed, wove and pushed their way around and through every restaurant and table. We probably could have bought hundreds of CDs that night as well as a watch for every person we know.




Our choice of a restaurant (although we really had no choice) left a lot to be desired. They were trying very hard to be shitsky but were failing miserably. One paper napkin, not even a dispenser like in the cheapest of diners, was delivered with the mediocre and expensive meal. Delivered on a plastic plate! Neither one of us even finished our meal. Veracruz, you were letting me down immensely. We paid the outrageous bill and decided to stroll around the square a bit. After we had looked at every piece of jewelry and every type and style of friendship bracelet you can imagine, we needed a drink. It was a little after midnight by this time and the crowds had thinned enough for us to find a prime people watching seat up front at one of the nicer restaurants. And they had Sol! (my favorite beer)

Comfortably ensconced with fresh drinks in front of us, we settled down for a little people watching. There were plenty of interesting, exotic and just plain romantic people to look at. But something else had caught my eye. Directly across from where we were sitting was a line of vendor booths and mixed in with them were large old trees. I had spotted a clown moving around over there, acting very mysterious. I watched as he settled in across from us, between two trees. He had a large bag with him, full of clown accessories I assumed. Sure enough, he reached into it and brought out a large rope. He next strung this between the two trees, maybe six feet off the ground. That accomplished, he again reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. I seriously doubt that it really had whiskey in it though. He put his bag out of sight and then the show started. I kind of felt like a voyeur, having seen him go through his getting ready routine. He opened the bottle, took a drink and immediately turned into a loud, drunk clown. I was not amused. People didn’t really stop to pay him any attention until he got up on his tightrope. He was actually very good at it. All the time he was doing tricks on it, under the guise of being a drunken clown. People now started to gather. Except for the fact that the show was six feet in the air, it was a typical show put on a by a fake drunk. Spitting a mouthful of "whiskey" on the bystanders, almost falling off the rope. Lots of slapstick, which is very, very popular here. Eventually he jumped down and passed his clown hat for tips. I thought it was a rather hard way to earn the few pesos that people put in his hat. Show over, he grabbed his bag and disappeared into the crowd. But he left his rope tied to the tree, so I assume that he was planning on giving another show later.

It was getting really late and we were both feeling the effects of traveling, and maybe just a little of the effects of all the booze we had consumed! It was starting to seem to us as though we were drinking a lot on this trip. Certainly more than when we are at home! I said to B, "When I write about this trip, everybody is going to think we turned into alcoholics or something! It sounds like all we do is drink!" He said not to talk about it then. I replied that having a beer or margarita is part of the travel experience! As we headed back to our hotel. I think we were both dreading the night ahead in this sleazy room. After walking as slowly as we could, we did finally reach our hotel, and, with little enthusiasm, we climbed the four flights of stairs and fell into bed. The last thing I remember was our saying to each other, we WILL change rooms tomorrow!

Car Trip 11

The rest of Saturday was spent driving to Veracruz. I was really looking forward to this stop. When Jaimie and I stayed there for one night, I promised myself to go back someday and really take a look at this colonial port town.

The drive was stupendous although difficult. The road was in excellent repair but it was torturous at times due to its’ taking us higher into the mountains that ring the gulf. At every turn we were greeted with breathtaking mountain vistas and panoramic views that seemed to stretch out forever to the horizon. But eventually we reached the other side and started the long, twisting descent back to sea level and Veracruz.

I did have a little trepidation about actually driving into Veracruz. The last time I was there it was horrible. I vividly remembered being caught in three lanes of traffic and not knowing how to merge to get over. Everybody ignoring my change blinker and Jaimie yelling at me to stop at this hotel or that one. What I forgot this time is that we were coming in from the other direction. There was still a lot of traffic, being a Saturday afternoon, but we breezed through the neighboring resort area of Boca del Rio on our way to downtown Veracruz. B had the map out and on the ready and he expertly directed us right to the doorstep of our chosen hotel! We had made a reservation in advance since we were to meet L here the next day and had to know where we would all meet up.

Again, we parked in the secure parking area, checked in and were shown to our room on the fourth floor. We were immediately aware that we may have chosen the wrong hotel. The room was small, cramped and only had two double beds. Even worse, the only window opened into an air shaft in the middle of the hotel! Absolutely no air at all and no ceiling fan either. We knew we were in for a long night. And we were staying here Saturday and Sunday night. Ok, when given lemons make lemonade. Since we really had no choice, we dug in and unpacked, knowing we were not going to have a great night.

The next surprise came in the bathroom when we went to shower. The shower head was on the end of a long pipe that came out of the wall and stretched to the middle of the room. No shower stall, just a shower head in the middle of the bathroom, high over your head, grinning down at you, just waiting to soak the entire room with water.



some building on the harbor. I think something to do with the Navy.


All clean and somewhere to go, we headed out to do some exploring. It was only about 4pm so we had plenty of daylight left. We walked along the malecon (seawall) and admired the garbage laden, dirty water that sat in the harbor here. We noticed a group of men (boys?) in bathing suits standing around on the edge of the seawall. We thought this a bit strange so strolled over to have a look. They were wet and it was clear that they had recently been in the water. But this water? Surely not. Unless they were total disease resistant or very, very stupid. There was garbage and pieces of lumber floating in the water here. As we discussed why and what may be going on, we got the answer. Suddenly three of them dove into the water and one came up with a ten peso coin in his mouth. They were diving for money! People would fling ten peso coins into the water and they would all dive in and compete like hell to be the first one to the money. The poverty these boys came from must be unimaginable to prompt them to come to this dirty harbor and dive into that water.

B wanted to throw some money in but I resisted. I did not want to promote this. B was successful in convincing me that we would not change it and if they used this method to make money, then so be it. With that, we started throwing ten pesos coins into the water. It didn’t matter if you threw one, or three, they dove in and got each one in the murky water before it hit the bottom. Only once did we see one of them on the seawall throw out a pair of goggles so one of them could search the bottom for a missed coin.

We left the boys behind and headed back to our room. It was time for a siesta. This is one custom down here that I have thoroughly acclimated to! We ended up napping until 9:30pm! Traveling and driving in Mexico does stress and tire one out quickly.

Car Trip 10

With the car once again fully loaded, we left beautiful little Catemaco behind. Our final destination today, Saturday, April 16, was to be the city of Veracruz in the state of Veracruz. We had calculated that it was close to 105 miles that we needed to travel today. We had a few stops to make along the way though.

Our first stop was at just outside the town of San Andres Tuxtla. There was a waterfall there that we wanted to see. I had seen pictures of Salto de Eyipantla on the internet and was really looking forward to seeing it in person. The only problem was that to get to the bottom of the falls, you first had to descend 242 steps! Not being in our twenties anymore and full of vim and vigor, we found it just a little daunting. Knowing what to expect on a trip like this from his years of adventure backpacking, L had insisted that we try to get into better shape before we left the island. He knew from experience how much walking and climbing there was going to be. Since he is considerably younger than we, and in much better physical condition, none of us expected him to be as challenged by the trip as we would be. And we were correct. Despite all the walking that B and I had done prior to starting out on this adventure, we were to encounter many, many physically challenging experiences for us along the way. But we were going to give all of them a try, including these stairs.

We pulled into a typical Mexican (or anywhere for that matter) tourist trap parking lot. We were immediately surrounded by the swarm of kids offering nothing and wanting everything. We just ignored them and made our way to the entrance to the falls. I passed a sign on the way that pointed off to the right and said MIRADOR. I don’t know why it didn’t register with me but mirador means viewpoint. Or scenic lookout or place to get a view from overhead. I passed right by it and headed for the big sign that advertised the cascades, right this way, have your money ready! We paid our entrance fee and started the journey down. Down. Down. I was actually having quite a good time. At each flat walkway between stairs, one get a better and better view of the falls. And they looked to be stupendous. We finally made it to the bottom and followed the one and only tarmac path to our right. Amazingly, we had been deposited right at the base of this 163 foot high and 130 foot wide wall of tumbling water. The spray coming off it was intense and it took all of ten seconds to be soaked to the bone! I tried to take some pictures but was having a rough go of it since my glasses were now dripping water. I took them off and took some random shots but the lens was so covered with water, they look awful.

We followed the path around and away from the spray and made our way through yet another load of vendors set up down there. But the steps, oh those 242 steps, now loomed in front of us. Memories of my climbing up and out of a cave in the Yucatan last summer came flooding back. I could only hope that my legs and back would survive!

With B following behind, we started our ascent. It was horrible. We were still soaked to the bone and it didn’t take long for our legs to start burning. Fortunately every 15 steps ended in a flat walkway. There were 16 of them and we rested at each one! I counted every step, just to make sure that the advertised 242 steps was correct! And also to know how many more I had left since I was counting backwards as I ascended. I didn’t trust my math to have to stop and subtract from 242 all the time! We reached the top and again saw the Mirador sign. That’s when it hit me. We could have just done the birds’ eye view and not had to do all those stairs. So we decided to go have a look.

The pathway led us through the obligatory array of vendors and out onto a swinging bridge, which I fully enjoyed. My phobia is deep, shark infested water, B’s is falling from a height. I took the lead and was having quite the good time, raising my foot very high with each step so as to increase the momentum of the swing and sway. It was so wide that we had nothing to hang on to and it was quite a vertigo experience. Suddenly the child in me was jerked up short by somebody behind me yelling "STOP IT!" (or unprintable words to that effect!) I turned around to see B on the side of the bridge, clenching the rail for dear life. He was white as a ghost. I had totally forgotten his fear of heights in my own glee of the bridge. I apologized and stood very still until we stopped rocking and rolling. We gingerly made our way to the other side and headed to the scenic overlook. The view was indeed spectacular. The viewing platform went right out to the side of the river where it made its’ plunge down those 163 feet to the bottom. B decided to wait for the movie and did not lean over the edge. We made our way back to the parking lot and I was quite perturbed to see my windshield wipers in the upright position. I thought somebody had been messing with the car. In actuality, it was a sign to the guy who had washed my car that I had not yet paid him. Since he had washed the car with a dirty rag, and without permission, rather than paying him anything, I felt more like giving him a good swift kick in the ass but I refrained. I gave him ten pesos (about 90 cents) and told him he was lucky to get that. B was trying to duck down as low in the seat as he could during my "conversation" with this guy but it all ended well and we were on our way to our next destination.

Our next stop was at Santiago Tuxtla to see the Olmec head in the city park there. The Olmec people occupied this area from about 1200 to 900 BC. Their civilization created massive heads carved out of basalt rock. They are all squat, pug-nosed and wear a helmut. The faces combine the features of human babies and jaguars. We were here to see the only known Olmec head to exist that had its' eyes closed.

bad picture of closed eyes head

The town itself, although boasting 16,000 inhabitants, had a very small village feel to it. We found a place to park right across from the square and headed over to the park. We had no trouble locating the head. It was just sitting on the grass with a kind of open gazebo surrounding it. Sure enough, it had the typical features, including lips so big they looked like they had been injected with collagen. And the eyes were closed. We knew this was special, but since this was our first Olmec head on the trip, I don’t think we fully appreciated it. Besides, it was blazing hot standing there! Several pictures were taken and we found a little cafe right in front of where we parked the car. We ate enough cheap food to choke a horse and were again on our way.

normal Olmec heads

Car Trip 9

Saturday morning found us up early and, with breakfast behind us, we headed down to the lake for our appointment. We found our tour guide with no problem, or rather he found us with no problem! We loaded into the boat and I most assuredly put on my life jacket. To tour the whole perimeter of the lake takes six hours. We were not interested in that. We only wanted to see some of the highlights.

The lake had an abundance of fishermen and snail men on it. They were mostly in row boats by themselves or with a young adult or child along. The fishermen would twirl the large white nets above their head until they had enough momentum and then let it go. I tried and tried to capture a picture of one them in midair but never got it. We saw plenty of boats just sitting in the water by themselves with nobody in them. Near a couple of them were some men treading water. Our guide explained to us that these were the snail men. They made their living by free diving to the bottom and gathering the giant snails. My mind went back to them later when I found out that the lake contains upwards of 200 fresh water crocodiles!

Our first stop was a reserve called Nanciyaga. It is supposed to be an ecological reserve dedicated to preserving the one small piece of rain forest located in this area. (2008 update: this is where the film Apocolypto was filmed) In reality, it is nothing more than a pretty tourist trap. There are several natural springs here and they produce mineral water, the bubbly kind. Lots of natural gas. We got to sample it right from the well using cups made out of tree leaves. How native is that! They also have several mud pits where the mud is supposed to be medicinal and rejuvenating. Since I did not feel ill and I wasn’t yet tired, I decided to give smearing smelly black mud all over my face a pass! I found the preserve very interesting in its’ natural beauty, but the hard sell tactics of the guides at every turn is a big turn off. And all tours are given in Spanish, as was the boat tour. As we were walking the last stretch of path leading to the entrance, I looked over a the edge of the water and there lay three huge crocodiles. There was a chain link fence between them and us, thank goodness. This is when I found out about the number of them in the lake. Our guide assured us that they never stray very far from this area of the lake because there are so many fish here for them to eat. “What happens when they deplete the fish supply?” I thought. I didn’t ask this but made a mental note to keep all body parts in the boat at all times!

From here we motored over to monkey island. The University of Veracruz, in some strange act of research, populated several islands with macac monkeys. People are supposed to leave them alone, but guess what? Tour boats line the shore with the monkeys begging bananas, fruit and whatever else the tourists have brought. And they are ugly. Did I say ugly? I mean really ugly. The poor things are not from this climate zone and have no natural protection against the sun. Ever piece of skin that was not covered with hair was badly, badly sunburned. It looked like layers of skin kept peeling, oozing and reburning. I found this whole idea of putting monkeys on these islands to fend for themselves in a foreign environment quite cruel. Our guide had told us we could bring food for them, but true to the Lonely Planet’s advice to leave them alone, we did not bring anything for them. Besides, they were a little scary and quite aggressive when food was thrown to them. Boats with food stayed a little off shore because the edge is lined with trees full of monkeys. Our guide nosed us right up to the shore and almost beached us. I was afraid the monkeys were going to come onto tour boat and, when they discovered we had no food for them, take a bite out of us instead! They, however, never did this. They paid no attention to us at all. They must have learned that only the offshore boats have food. We stayed there far too long and took too many pictures. I am not going to share any of them. Upon looking at them, they are way too disgusting. I would not recommend viewing these monkeys to anyone who has any feelings about animal welfare at all.

After leaving the monkey island portion of the lake, we circled around a couple of the bigger islands and took pictures of the surrounding volcanic hills. It was really quite beautiful to behold. But the trip ended safely and we disembarked and headed back to the our hotel. Oh, did I mention that as soon as the boat pulled away from shore, my fear of the lake dropped away and I was able to enjoy the tour for what is was and not worry about drowning all the time? Maybe my phobia about water is lessening its’ grip?

Car Trip 8

As Villahermosa fell away behind us, we still had 157 miles to go just to get to our turn off at Acayucan. From there we were to leave MX 180 and head north, back up towards the Gulf and today’s destination, Catemaco.

The road through Tabasco is excellent, but boring. It took us another 2.5 hours to reach Acayucan. We passed, but did not take, the turn off for Coatzacoalcos and Minatitlan. In fact, they are oiling towns and there is nothing there for tourists. I only mention them because it is so much fun trying to say their names! About an hour before we reached the turnoff for these cities, we crossed into the state of Veracruz. Almost immediately the topography began to change. Fading away behind us were the flat scrubby fields of Tabasco. They were slowly being replaced with the rolling hills which lead into the foothills of the Sierra Madre. However, it would be a few days before we actually headed purposely into these majestic mountains.

We finally reached the turn off for Acayucan and left the freeway system behind and entered Mexico’s system of secondary roads again. These roads are always a crap shoot as to condition. They can be well maintained or so bad it is hard to get over 20 mph on them. One never knows. We located the sign for Catemaco and started the final 42 mile stretch of our journey to our destination for the day.

The road turned out to be one of the better ones but the going was slow just the same. The road continued to rise, heading towards more mountains in the distance. The drop offs, most unprotected, got higher and higher as we climbed. It was full of sharp, blind turns and long uphill stretches. Both of these were killers if caught behind a bus or semi. But usually there were two or more that one had to get by. Since they are so slow they tend to pack up. It is not unusual to get behind 6-8 of them at once. It can take hours to pass them all. After two hours of this, we reached the summit of a particularly long climb and the road turned to the left. It was here that we got our first glimpse of Catemaco shining below us.




The town of Catemaco actually sits on the shore of Lake Catemaco, an oval lake which is ten miles long and full of islands. The lake sits in the bowl formed by the high, rugged volcanic hills surrounding it. Even though we had to descend down out of the highlands to reach the lake, it still sits at an elevation of 1200 feet.

We located the town center quite easily and parked the car. We had decided that we would both visit the hotels listed in the guidebook and any others that may look nice. I guess B did not want a repeat of last night’s $88 splurge!

We finally decided on a hotel, checked in, parked the car in the secure parking lot and got ourselves situated. We wanted to take a tour of the lake and see the sights listed in the guidebook so we had to try to arrange that. There was no lack of tour hawkers down by the lake. We finally struck up a deal with one of them to take us on a private tour the next morning at 9am. They use those long boats called lonchas which the fishermen here on the island use. With my fear of being on open water, I knew this was going to be quite the adventure and take all my willpower to get into that boat the next day. But, I told myself, I was here for an adventure and I was going to have one!

We retired back to our room and took a well deserved siesta. We awoke later and got ourselves cleaned up to go out for dinner. There were several nice sounding restaurants listed in the book and we wanted to give one a try. I was especially anxious to try the fresh water perch, since that was the fish most often served as I grew up in Michigan. This lake is also famous for the very large, fist sized snails and eels. Both considered a wonderful meal by most people. Believe me, I memorized the Spanish word for snail and eel very fast! No way I wanted to try either of them! So off we strolled back down the slightly inclined road to the waterfront. Much to our surprise, not only was our first choice restaurant closed, so was every other restaurant along the waterfront! And it was only 9pm! Very early by Mexican standards.

Feeling like we were going to starve, we decided to head back to the square and see if any local restaurants were open. Lacking that, maybe some kind of store where we could buy something. We found one, just one restaurant open. But that was enough. Since this was to be our only dinner in Catemaco, I was very disappointed to see that they did not have perch on the menu. They had a fish fillet but the waitress said it was not perch, just a white fish of some sort. I ordered it anyway. And it was very good so I ended up not being disappointed afterall. B had swiss enchiladas. I was also pleased to be able to order a beer again in public! Bellies satiated, we headed back to the hotel for a decent nights' sleep.

Car Trip 7

Friday morning and we ambled back to the restaurant complex for an early breakfast. Then back to the hotel, check out and we are once again on our way. On our way of course meant tackling the bridge at this end of the island. Piece of cake. Did not bother me at all. Probably because B was driving! We then turned right and were once again on the coastal road heading out of town and putting the island behind us.

Today we planned to get all the way to Catemaco so it was going to be another long day. We would be traveling 300 miles today and none of it on freeway. Secondary roads in Mexico are always a guess. Sometimes they are as good as the freeways and you can easily travel at 70 mph. But most of the time they are in disrepair, bumpy and slow. It is difficult to even average 50 mph. So we figured we had about 6 hours to drive. I know that doesn't sound like much, but believe me, after fighting the roads, other drivers, crawling along behind buses and semi-trailers, one is exhausted after that long behind the wheel.

The road led us away from the Gulf proper but we passed many beautiful lakes and rivers which were actually extensions of the bay behind the island. Just past Nuevo Campechito we crossed the border into the state of Tabasco. This was to be our first experience with being stopped and searched by the military patrols at the border crossings. It is quite intimidating to have a soldier with a machine gun wave you over to the inspection point where more soldiers wielding machine guns are waiting. They did not want to see our passports or any papers at all. They ordered us out of the car and made me open the hood. They looked around in there for a bit, had me close it and motioned us on our way. I found it very strange and scary too. I have heard so many horror stories down here of getting pulled over for inspection and having the inspector mysteriously "find" drugs hidden in your car. All in an attempt to elicit a bribe. Needless to say, I stood right in front of the car and actually peered under the hood with them! I don't know what they thought but I was not going to look away for a second so that could plant drugs in my car! Paranoid? Maybe, but better safe than sorry.

At Frontera I had to face another challenge. This is where the bridge is located that seems to rise straight into the sky, flatten out over the river and then descend just as sharply on the other side. By this time, we had switched drivers again so I couldn't just close my eyes until it was behind us! I knew it would be coming because so far we had been backtracking the same road that Jaimie and I had traveled. I don't know why, but I think maybe because B was in the car with me, but it just did not seem that bad this time. This type of thing doesn't bother him at all and his calmness was contagious.

Crossing Tabasco state is never an easy matter. I think it is possibly the hottest state in Mexico. We broke down and turned on the air conditioning but even on high it barely changed the temperature in the car. Tabasco is flat with hardly any interesting topography along this highway at all. At least we were a little late for the fire burning season so we did not encounter any brush fires like I did last time. I was very grateful for that! In fact the most interesting thing we saw along this stretch of road was a dead, badly bloated horse on the side of the road. It looked like somebody had blown up a huge horse shaped balloon with the legs sticking straight up in the air. Gross!

We were heading towards Villahermosa, the largest city in the state of Tabasco. Mostly because we had no choice. MX 180 runs right through it. It was scheduled to be one of our stops on the route back to the island. For now we just needed to get through it to continue on our way.

I do not have pleasant memories of Villahermosa. That is where our first big travel fight and "accident" occurred. Everything was going fine and we were proceeding through the city with no problems at all. Until we got to the Y. Two nice lanes went to the right, two nice lanes went to the left. I asked my navigator which way. "I don't know" he replied. I had a split second to make a decision and I chose left, which turned out to be wrong, of course. Then came the blow up. I looked over at him and he didn't even have the map open for the city! I guess he was too busy looking at the scenery or something and forgot he needed to navigate! Believe me, when the smoke cleared in the car, he had the map open! But we had no idea where on the map we were. I pulled over multiple times and we tried to locate the last or next cross street on the map. No luck. So I kept driving around. In deadly silence, jaws clenched. All of you who have travelled with partners know what I am talking about! Finally, I turned down a street, which led us to a right turn only street which was a dead end at the bottom of a hill! A few words were exchanged and I very angrily negotiated a three point turn. Except that the second point ended with a post in my back bumper! I couldn't even be bothered to get out to look at the damage to our new car. I was that angry. Since I am back home writing this, you can probably figure out that we did make it out of Villahermosa. Forty-five minutes after we entered it, there miraculously appeared a sign for MX 180. We followed it and were safely, but not merrily, on our way again.

Because we had such a horrid experience there, we decided to cross it off our list of places to visit this trip. We had both seen enough of it!

Car Trip 6

After a quick nap, shower and change of clothes, we headed out to explore the downtown and get something to eat. Having been here before, I got to act as tour guide! B wanted to know where Jaimie and I had eaten so I took him to that restaurant. It is right on the town square so we decided to save it for after dinner coffee.

We headed over to the Malecon (sea walk), which I didn’t realize existed when Jaimie and I were here. We had gotten in after dark and it was very late by the time we got a taxi downtown. We did not do that much exploring. The malecon was very pleasant and had some interesting big cement balls supporting the overhead pedestrian walkways to cross the busy street (also same as MX 180) running along the Gulf. Off to my left I could see the bridge that was to take us off the island and back to the mainland again tomorrow morning. I wasn’t afraid of it, but I wasn’t looking forward to it either! I put it out of my mind and continued to stroll along with B looking for a restaurant. The other thing I had not noticed when here previously, was offshore oil rigging platforms. They were all along the coast heading back in the direction from which we had entered the town. That must be the major reason for this town to exist.

Off to our right, and across the street, we could see a two story structure. It looked like a motel but instead of rooms, it had restaurants! We should have no problem finding a good place to eat. I wanted a beer with my dinner, so, as we looked at the various menus posted at the restaurants, I scanned to see what type they had. I was particularly looking to see if they had Sol since I don’t really like Corona or Dos Equiis. I was shocked to discover that not one restaurant offered beer as one of their beverage choices! I had had the same problem the last time I was here but had forgotten. I think that CdelC must be a dry town because I never even saw any stores even where you could buy beer downtown!

We ended up eating at one of the places on the second floor, outside, with a table overlooking the busy street below. Just out of curiosity, I asked the waiter if they had beer. He asked me to wait and went and got the person in charge. I don’t know if he was the owner or manager but I repeated my question to him. He informed me that they indeed did have beer and they did have Sol! I was ecstatic and ordered one up! When they brought it out I was a bit perplexed and annoyed at first. It had been poured into a tall, dark red plastic glass and had a straw sticking out of it! I have heard all the stories about drinking beer through a straw and did not really want to consume beer in this fashion. But then it hit me. I was being served boot leg beer! I was not about to give away the restaurants’ secret that they sold beer, despite any law to the contrary. So I drank my beer through the straw as if it were a soft drink and was just happy to have it!

After dinner we walked the two blocks back to the town square. Nothing very exciting about it. It was laid out in the typical Mexican fashion of a band shell in the middle and spokes going out from that. But a pleasant, tree filled square just the same. We browsed the few vendors that had set up booths around and I eventually bought a new leather belt.

I had been eagerly anticipating showing B the musical fountain here. Unfortunately, it was turned off and was bone dry. No idea why. It certainly was interesting when running though. We eventually ended up back at the outdoor cafe on the square for coffee. It was quite enjoyable, just watching people go by. Except for one thing. Right across from us was a woman in a booth selling phone cards (tarjetas). Every 10 seconds she would yell "Tarrrrrrrrrjetas" to no one in particular. I know this because it was so irritating I timed her. She wasn’t as good as she thought though. One time it was 12 seconds. Seriously though, her timing was exceptional.
After enjoying our coffee and, knowing that there was nothing to do anyway and that we also had to get an early start, we strolled back to our hotel and got a good nights rest.

Car Trip 5

We finally reached Champoton, which also signaled the end of the freeway system for us for a few days. We continued on MX 180, which hugs the gulf coast all the way to Ciudad del Carmen. We came out of the hills and sandstone cliffs to get our first glimpse of the Gulf of Mexico off to our right.

The road kept descending until we were driving at or below sea level. There were flat, dirty sand dunes between us and the water. At times, however, the dunes rose up to block our view and the road dipped down to below sea level. As evidenced by the debris that was everywhere in the ditches, the water had more than once crossed the road along here! I think there must have been some erosion along this road since Jaimie and I drove it in April 2004. At times the road veered crazily towards the water and we drove right on the edge of the water. Only feet between us and the Gulf. I thought at times that the waves were going to come crashing onto the road, pushing us into the big ditch on the other side. Or worse, carry us out to sea! Of course, neither of those things happened. But they could have!

We had changed drivers again at Champoton so, much to my great dismay, it was I who was driving as we came around a rather sharp corner and had to stop to pay a toll. I thought it strange that there should be a toll booth here since this was not a freeway. Almost all freeways in Mexico are toll roads. Then I saw it! The much hated two mile long bridge that separates Isla del Carmen from the mainland! Some of you may remember in my trip with Jaimie how much I hated this low, dangerous bridge. Oh well, nothing to do but head out onto it. As I white knuckled the steering wheel, B kept himself entertained by asking things like, "So when does is bridge get scary?" or "This bridge doesn't seem that bad to me." Of course it didn't. He does not share my fear of water. So it shouldn't have bothered him to cross it. Duh. But we made it across and I must admit, my fear of it was not as great this time. Maybe because I had done it before? Maybe because it was a Thursday afternoon and it was not crowded with fishermen? Who knows. I am just glad my heart was still beating when we reached the welcoming shores of the island.



Isla del Carmen is a 36 kilometer (22.5 miles) long sliver of an island. It mostly serves as a breakfront for the huge bay, Laguna del Terminos. It protects it from the pounding of the Gulf waters. There is one road in, one road out, and it too hugs along the Gulf for most of the way. I think they do that to conserve on land so people and businesses have a place to go, instead of being split down the middle by a road.

There are a couple of little built up areas as you travel toward the other end of the island and downtown. Mostly little straw-roofed restaurants selling fish and shrimp. Some look quite nice and inviting. Others I would not touch with a ten foot pole! Remembering that these restaurants exist was to come in handy later in the trip.

We finally entered downtown, Ciudad del Carmen, proper and started looking for a hotel. There is nothing in CdelC to make it noteworthy or really even to stop for. Therefore it is not listed in any guide books so our Lonely Planet was of no help to us. I did not want to stay at the same hotel Jaimie and I used because it was too far from downtown. Our good friend here on the island, Terry, had also stayed at CdelC when she brought her car down. She had given us the name of the hotel where she stayed and we eventually did locate it. Again, way too far from downtown. We did not want to have to get the car out after dark nor did we want to be dependent upon taxis. We just wanted to walk wherever we wanted to go. We really felt no rush because it was only 5:30 pm. We had made excellent time this day, driving only 9 hours since leaving Cancun. We found a nice, clean, safe looking hotel and we parked in front to enquire about a room. Since my Spanish is a bit better than B's, but not all that good by a long shot, I was sent in to see about getting a room while B stayed in the car and "protected" it! I think he just wanted a chance for a cigarette. I had quite smoking again about 5 weeks before this trip and would not allow him to smoke in the car. (Ok, so at times I did give in to high stress situations and light one up, but I still considered myself a non-smoker)

I negotiated a room and registered and paid before going back to the car and driving it into the secured parking area attached to the hotel. I had a rather rude awakening when he passed the bill across the counter to me. It seems that I had understood him to say 88 pesos when in fact he had said 880 pesos! If I had stopped to think about it, I would have realized that no way could it have been 88 pesos. That is only $7.97! So we ended up in a very fancy hotel in a very fancy room. We were not budgeted for $80 a night rooms so this had to be a one time treat.

Car Trip 4

I was nervous about the little border crossing from Quintana Roo to the Yucatan. We had friends visiting recently and we drove them in the Jeep to Merida. That crossing went fine but the one before that was a nightmare!

Even though we have the official sticker displayed in our window, and have been assured by all officialdom here that that is all we need to legally have the Jeep here and drive it anywhere, we got turned away at the border. They refused to let us cross! They said we also needed the paper from which the sticker was peeled! We had no choice but to turn around and drive the 62 miles back to Cancun, park the Jeep, take the people ferry over to the island, then a taxi home and grab the paper from our important documents stash. In retrospect, I think he only asked for the papers hoping to see some money cross his palm for letting us through. I was not going to fall for that! At any point on the road, we could have been pulled over and asked for the papers again. After all, these guys have radios and can call any other police that they may want to include in their good fortune!

A few hours later and we were back at the border crossing. I confidently approached the crossing point where there is huge sign ordering you to STOP! As I slowed down to go through this point, the same guard just lazily looked at us and waved us on through! I was incensed that he had made us go through the effort of getting this needless piece of paper and then didn’t even stop us to look at it! I was worried about nothing this time though. I had forgotten that, unlike the Jeep, our current car has Mexican plates so we did not need to show any kind of papers. Unknown to me, this border crossing was the first of fifteen we were to do on this trip, not to mention all of the military checkpoints and inspections!

The drive to Merida is not interesting at all. It is a straight, long freeway in excellent condition. However, the Yucatan scrub jungle grows right up to the edge of it and there is nothing to see but the road ahead and the green on your sides. Highway hypnoses was a problem for me that morning. Especially as I listened to the heavy, rhythmic breathing coming form the sleeper in the passenger seat! He awoke as we pulled into the rest area/gas station at the turn off for Valledolid. Just in time to use the potty, buy some snacks that we did not need and get a cold Coke. The plan was for B to take over the driving here, but, since I was no longer tired, I just kept behind the wheel.

It is very strange to me, what has happened here. In the USA, I hated to drive. Still do. I would always let B drive or whine until he did. Down here it is totally different. I love driving here and I don’t know why. I would think it is just old age or something, but when I go back to the USA to visit, I still hate driving there.

We skirted Merida but it seemed that every one of its’ 685,000 citizens were on the road at the same time as we were. No accidents and we found our way to the road leading to Campeche, our next major city. As we left Merida behind, the scenery started to change. The jungle recedes further and further away and eventually just stops being. It is replaced with large fields, lined with stone walls and filled with scrub Ash trees. And the terrain starts to change for the very flat to rolling hills. After we crossed the border from Yucatan to Campeche state, we switched drivers and I took a much needed nap. I awoke a while later as we thumped over a tope which signaled our entrance into a small village. From what I could tell, the reason for this villages’ existence was to sell crap to tourists passing by. The streets were lined with stores selling souvenirs and bright, colorful hammocks. Pretty to look at, but nothing we would even slow down for.

A few minutes after leaving town, my heart almost stopped beating! I could not see where it was coming from for sure, but straight ahead of us and still a ways off, was a great black plume of smoke! Memories of my Terror in Tabasco came flooding back. No way did I want to repeat that and drive through a burning forest fire again! It took several hills and miles, but eventually the road turned and I could see that the fire was safely burning somewhere way off to our right.

Our journey carried us further west, through sandstone cliffs on our right and rolling hills and scrubby farmland on our left. Just like in the USA, road repair was everywhere on the trip. I found it very interesting that there was a five mile stretch where men were actually painting the cement median barrier by hand! Talk about labor intensive. We eventually reached the entrance to the Campeche-Champoton freeway. We were planning our first stop for the night to be Ciudad del Carmen on the Gulf Coast. Still a lot of driving before we reached there and we were hoping to push it and get there before dark. Neither one of us wanted to drive after dark. The roads are way too dangerous and unpredictable for that. You have to see a giant pothole or animal on the road in order to avoid it!

Car Trip 3

When the alarm went off at 5:00 AM, I was ready for it. I had been awake for a while anyway, forcing myself to just stay in bed until the alarm went off. We had a list of morning things to do and check. We consulted the list while we prepared ourselves to load the car, lock up the house and be on our way. The first car ferry to the mainland, and the one we had to catch, leaves at 6:30 AM. Back door locked, security nails placed in windows, luggage and a bag of “road trip” food waiting by the front door, we carried our stuff down the porch steps and started loading the car. It was now 6:10 AM and it is a ten minute drive to the port.

Our first problem was that it was still dark out. We found out the hard way that there is no light in the trunk. So back into the house to grab a flashlight, which was not a bad idea to take with us anyway. We crammed. We arranged and re-arranged. We yelled at each other. Finally we got everything stuffed into that trunk. That left us with a big problem though. We were meeting L in Veracruz and he was coming off a trip. He would have one large and one regular size backpack with him. We had absolutely no room for his stuff! We had promised ourselves that we would not load the back seat. We had to have one comfortable spot in the car to nap, read and just zone out after a turn at driving. Driving down here is much more stressful than in the USA. So amid much grumbling and complaining, we brought all three pieces of luggage back into the house and dumped it all out onto the bed.

The clock was quickly ticking away our precious minutes to get to the ferry. We grabbed the bare essentials; underwear, jacket, t-shirts, an extra pair of jeans, an extra pair of flip-flops and trainers. Needless to say, stuff was not packed as neatly as the night before! We managed to take out the unneeded and get our stuff packed into the two backpacks we should have done in the first place. We raced back to the door, slammed it shut, locked the deadbolt, jumped into the car and dashed for the port. It was now 6:18 AM. As I crested the hill where I can see the ferry, I gave a sigh of relief because it looked like they were still loading so it would not be leaving on time! If you can make it to the parking lot, they will wait for you. So, three minutes after we entered the parking lot, we were loaded onto the ferry and were pulling away from the dock!
Surprisingly, there was no blaming or fault finding between the two of us for getting to the boat so late. I think we both knew we were equally to blame for the chaos that morning because of our over packing.

We were off-loaded onto the mainland and had all of Mexico ahead of us to look forward to. And we were very excited about this trip. It was to be our first great adventure together in Mexico. We would be visiting places that I had seen on my drive down, but B had not. And we would be visiting a lot of places that neither one of us had ever seen but that were on our list of places to go in Mexico. I negotiated the busy morning traffic of downtown Cancun and headed out the west side. Along the way, we stopped at McDonald’s and had ourselves a nice little sausage muffin and some coffee. I knew that just five minutes down the road was the entrance to the autopista (freeway) to Merida and it would be at least two hours before we would have an opportunity to stop. Our first stop would be after we crossed the border between the states of Quintano Roo and the bordering state of Yucatan.

Our bellies full and warm I put the car in gear and we were finally, really, truly off on our great adventure!

Car Trip 2

I never realized that planning a trip could be so much work. At least down here it is. Actually the planning started weeks before we left and included much internet searching, map searching, calculating driving times and a lot of Lonely Planet guidebook referencing. We planned to be gone nineteen days, start to finish.

Since our friend, L, was to be joining us and going along, he also had a say about the trip. He is a tour guide for backpackers in Mexico and Central American and really knows his way around. He proved to be an invaluable resource to us. Since he has been to almost every major city in Mexico, the only place he really wanted to go was Los Pozas, to see the strange surreal working of Sir Edward James. It is located high in the mountain rain forest jungle near Xilitla.

We decided to plan the rest of our itinerary around this destination. Our original destinations included Ciudad del Carmen, Catemaco, Veracruz, Xalapa, Xilitla, Zacatecas, Guanajuato, Puebla, Villahermosa, Campeche and back to Isla Mujeres. As with any well laid plan, there were to be changes along the way.

The day before we left, which would have been April 13, 2005, found B and I running around like chickens with our heads cut off. As always, there is so much to do that has to wait until the last minutes. Trip to the bank, gas station, letting the carpenter know that if somebody breaks in while we are gone, he has our permission to fix the windows. Saying goodbye to our good friend, P, and reassuring her that she did not need to drive her golf cart by our house everyday. We had arranged with our next door neighbor to look after the place. He had his dog sleep on our front porch every night to discourage would-be break in artists!

Packing was a nightmare. We had planned on each only taking one backpack. Of course, that got changed as I decided I had to take this T-shirt too, these flip-flops, another pair of jeans and on and on. While I was doing this, it turned out that B was doing he same thing! We have never tried packing for such an extensive road trip before and were actually quite naïve in what we really needed to take. Had L been here, he could have lent us his professional expertise. He lives for weeks at a time out of a backpack. But he was someplace in Nicaragua or Costa Rica, or at least someplace in Central America at the time. He wouldn’t be joining us on the trip until we got to Veracruz. We would be traveling through deserts and high mountains, so we had to bring clothing to suit different climates.

So, with the last of our stuff crammed into two backpacks and an extra suitcase, off we went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day!

Car Trip 1

If we had stayed home that Sunday in 2005, none of this probably would have happened. As it was, our friend R, from Toronto, was in his third of four weeks here on the island. We were all a little tired of just lying around the beach all day. Since I had more or less decided to return the Jeep to the USA and sell it, we would need some sort of vehicle to replace it. We have our motor scooters, but they are no good on the mainland, no good for transporting groceries and definitely no good for motor trips. So we decided to pack up all our cares and woes and head to the auto swap in Cancun. Just to check things out, of course!

It was hot over there. The swap meet takes place in a big dirt lot with car after car packed together like sardines. The occasional pick-up is squeezed in for good measure. We three walked up and down the aisles, emitting various exclamations of ooh, aah or even a “they have to be kidding!” once in awhile. We had really given up on finding anything remotely suitable to replace the Jeep when, Wham! There it was. A bright, shiny red brand new VW Pointer. Seeing as how I will not even consider owning any other color than red in a vehicle, it was mightily to my liking!

We examined it from stem to stern, which means oohing over the color to me. We were actually quite adroit at ignoring all the wonderful points the salesman tried to show us that existed under the hood. It was a five speed manual, had a trunk and the doors all locked. That was enough for me. There was no radio, but that is an easily fixed problem. It turns out that it did have 3000 kilometers on it, which did make it slightly used. That’s 1875 miles in our measurements. We pretended to reluctantly allow the salesman to usher us into it and go for a test drive. I jumped in behind the wheel, inhaled deeply of that still new car smell and maneuvered us out of that crowded parking lot and into the busy traffic of Cancun. I was to ask myself many, many times later why I didn’t notice that it did not have power steering.

Back to the parking lot and the deal was negotiated, down payment was made and an appointment was made to meet the salesman the next day to transfer papers and get a new license plate. We completed everything we needed to do on Monday, drove to the car ferry and made our way back home. All the time sputtering “What have we done? We now own two vehicles and we are supposed to be retired and enjoying a simple life.” Oh well, days later, with Mexican car insurance purchased and nerves calmed down, we decided we had better take a little trip in our new car. Just to be sure that we really did like it and want to keep it.

Akil 31 - Final Chapter

Our first stop out of town was going to be the gas station about 10 miles away. We passed a convoy of circus trucks on the way. Rickety, old things covered with faded writing and drawings extolling the wonders that were contained within their wonderful world. We were quite amused to see a bunch of monkeys emerge from the top of one of the trucks. They had been snuggled down in the baggage and paraphanalia and were securely fastened to the truck with chains about their necks. We were almost finished at the gas station when the whole convey pulled in, causing quite a bit of interest amongst the service personnel. It was not everyday that the circus came to this particular gas station! It took a while longer to finish, since gas stations in Mexico are not self service, but finish we did and were off on our way again.

With the map spread out on B’s lap, we passed through Mani, Teabo, Mayapan and on to Cantamayec. We stopped there at a roadside stand and got some bottles of water and fresh bananas. Back on the road, passing through Sotuta, Tibolon and finally to Holca where we saw the signs for Mexico 180, directing us to Chichen-Itza. We were very pleased with ourselves that we had negotiated this part of the Yucatan on our own. We continued on the Ruta Libre (free road, meaning no tolls but 1567 speed bumps!) to Valladolid. This is a major city and we hoped to find someplace to park the Jeep where we could watch it and have lunch. It was a busy town with the usual amount of confusing signs. We were concentrating so hard on getting through the city and staying on the proper road, we never did find a restaurant where we could stop. Out of Valladolid and back on the bumpy road to Cancun. Not long afterwards we spotted a pleasant looking roadside restaurant with signs in English telling us how good their food was. We pulled in, parked and had the place to ourselves.

It was indeed a pleasant place with good food, enhanced by the many peacocks roaming freely about. We were pleased to see them spreading their tails and prancing about the peahens, showing off their grandeur for them, but impressing us probably more, judging from the peahens reactions!

Back on the road and by 3 pm we reached our goal and reason for taking the slow road home instead of the faster expressway out of Merida. Just past Leona Vacario, where we had had our first breakfast, we stopped at our favorite roadside nursery. This was the very same one where Lizzie had stepped in the dog poop in what seemed ages ago now. We bought more cactus and plants for our gardens and made the last hour dash to Punta Sam to catch the ferry back home. We made it with a half an hour to spare! Pretty good planning and driving, I thought. We experienced such a warm feeling and one of relief that we would soon be home again as we sat and waited to be loaded onto the ferry. The only time looking across the bay at Isla that she had looked better to me was when I sat there months earlier with Jaimie, having had driven the Jeep from Minnesota.

We disembarked on Isla and turned the Jeep for the final 2.5 miles to home. Our great Yucatan adventure now at an end. We would have many new memories to mull over and we were very glad to have had the opportunity Juan had just generously given us. All the little irritants of learning to live on Mexican time and dealing with group dynamics forgotten. Just happy to be home and to have had this adventure. Thank you Juan, Maria, Carlos, Lupe, Lizzie and the extended family in Akil. You just made two American friends lives a little richer.

UP NEXT: Our first car trip in Mexico. This took place in 2005 and includes wild monkeys, car accidents, surreal jungles and cable cars, to mention just a few highlights! Hope you can join me!

Akil 30

On the drive back, with no more stops, B and I decided that it was time we left and headed back to the island. We had had enough adventure now for awhile. Besides, we had had to put the house remodeling on hold while we were gone and we were anxious to get that going again.

We told Juan that night that we were going to leave in the morning. Since it was a long drive back and we needed to keep in mind the times the ferry left back to the island, we told him that we were going to be on the road no later than 10 am. He talked to Maria and told us that they were ready to go back to the island also so we would all leave in the morning together. We were happy to hear this, since otherwise we would have had to find our own way back and I wasn’t too sure of my ability to do that without a leader or at least a map.

We spent a pleasant evening with the kids lounging on the sofa watching TV and B, Juan and I sitting out front with the relatives, having our last night of beer drinking contests while anybody who could tried to make the best Margarita for B’s enjoyment. We fell into bed later, a little tipsy and totally exhausted from a long, arduous day.

Not surprisingly, B and I were up and at ‘em quite early. I made coffee and we did our now normal routine of sitting on the back porch in the morning sun. Enjoying our breakfast of coffee and cigarettes, planning what we wanted to do when we got home and just waiting for the family to get up and going.

By 9 am, with nobody yet stirring for our 10 am departure, B and I started to pack the Jeep. The noise awoke Juan and Maria, in the bedroom across the hall from us, and they got up. We were getting concerned about facing yet another delay but I was determined, family or not, to be on the road by 10 am. We needed to be if there were to be any chance of catching the 5:30 pm ferry back to the island. The next and last one for the day would be at 8:30 pm, much later than we wanted to return. We told Juan he had better wake up the kids so they could start to get ready if we were going to leave on time. It was then that he told us that they had decided to stay another day. They still had some unfinished business with Tony’s school and lodging in Merida and wanted to take care of that first. We totally understood and continued with our packing the Jeep.

I asked Juan if he could draw some kind of map to get us back to Mexico 180, which would take us straight into Cancun. Even better, he went next door and borrowed Jaimie’s driving Atlas to loan to us. It was from 1995, but a welcome gift that clearly showed the route we needed to take. He showed us the route, which appeared direct and easy, back to Mexico 180.

With the Jeep fully loaded with our backpacks and the stuff we had purchased on our adventure, the family, including all the relatives from both sides, gathered to see us off. It was a series of hugs, handshakes and invitations to please come visit again. We promised we would and only 15 minutes later than planned, we bid farewell to Akil and headed back home.

Akil 29

On our little group went. Up steep paths, around more buildings, even more steps and eventually coming to the final pyramid. It was a steep incline of maybe 100 steps, which deposited one on a flat viewing surface. From there there was another smaller flight of steps that led to the actual smaller top platform of the structure. It was there that I wanted to go.

Nobody else was interested in climbing to the top, so off I set on my own. I climbed the steps the Mayan way, which I had learned years ago while visiting Chichen-Itza. One does not climb straight up, like we do now in modern times. Rather the path up is a zig zag one, with one’s whole foot being placed on each step. All the way to the right and then zag back up towards the left until the top is reached. Even though this way is a much easier way to climb, my legs were burning by the time I reached the first flat area. But it was worth it.

The view from up there was stupendous. After doing a quick check that the family was still waiting down below and waving to them, I scanned the horizon. Jungle as far as one could see. Here and there I could see even more buildings sticking out of the dense foliage. It was clear that they had not yet been excavated and maybe never would. The enormity of this site was overwhelming. It was hard to grasp the work that must have gone into constructing this site. From up there, I had a clear view back to the main pyramid where we came in. It was even more dramatic from a distance where I could see the entire thing silhouetted against the bright blue sky. I took a ton of pictures from that view and turned and made my way up the short distance to the top. It was very scary and a very small area up there. The view was not much different and I only took a few pictures before carefully picking my way back down to the lower platform again.

I was filled with apprehension as I looked down those steps again at the family waiting below. They were so far away and the descent was so steep! My inclination was to sit down and descend them on my butt. However, I would loose a tremendous amount of machismo if I did that. My only choice was to go down the way I had come up and hope that vertigo did not take over and send me plunging down the steps to my death! Needless to say, I safely descended, carefully keeping my eyes only on my feet and taking one step at a time. All the time saying to myself, “You can do this, you can do this!” Upon reaching the bottom and the family and after telling the totally uninterested group how fantastic the view was, we set off back to the visitor center. We found B sitting patiently there. We again all made a potty stop, had another ice cream or beverage and headed back to our respective vehicles for the journey home to Akil.

Akil 28

There had been considerable whimpering and whining going on the whole day from the children. Mostly I can just ignore it but this time it really set me off. Lupe had just complained that she did not want to go any further. She, in the best disgusted voice a 13 year old can use, complained that it was boring, totally uninteresting and a waste of time. She did not want to be here and thought we should all just leave.

Juan translated this to me and I went off on him, even though he did not deserve it. Call it the heat, call it bottled up frustrations of the week pouring out, or call it just plain stupid, but I let him know what I thought of her whining. Mostly I said that Lupe should be ashamed of herself. This was her heritage we were viewing and she should take pride, interest and great satisfaction knowing that she had the blood of these great people running through her veins. Juan looked at me aghast and said, “We are not Mayan!” I was dumbfounded. If they weren’t Mayan I was prepared to eat my dirty, sweaty flip flop right then and there. I said, “Juan, yes you are. You and your ancestors all come from the Yucatan and trace your family back to the Mayan culture. You even speak Mayan! That certainly makes you a modern day Mayan.” He acknowledged that this was true but that did not make HIS family Mayan. It was just his ancestors that were Mayan, he and his family were Mexican.

I was flabbergasted but shut my mouth. I could not believe that he really believed this, but while he was talking, his wife, Maria, was vehemently shaking her head yes, approving of everything he said. As we walked on towards the smaller pyramid, Lupe’s whining having ceased, probably because of the heated exchange between her father and me, I thought about what he said a lot.

If one compares the Mayan culture to the American Indian and how they were treated, it becomes understandable. Unfortunately, even in present day Mexico, the Mayan people are looked down upon by the rest of the country as the lowest class of people, only one swing out of the jungle. (as, I believe, are most indigenous people here) They totally disregard the fantastic achievements and intelligence of the wonderful and rich contributions made by the Mayans. I find that very sad. I suppose Juan and his wife had spent their lives experiencing the subtle discrimination imposed upon them due to their heritage and were trying to distance themselves from it. Like a light going off in my head, I suddenly understood Juan a whole lot better. I became determined during those moments of thought to praise the Mayan culture to anybody and everybody who would listen and let people know what a great society it had been and still was.

Akil 27

Back on Ruta Puuc and away we went on to Uxmal. Uxmal was founded around AD 600 and flourished until around AD 900. It was first discovered by the western world in 1929 and only about 1/3 of it is totally excavated. The major feature of Uxmal is the tremendous pyramid. It looms large and impressive over any other building on the site.


Photo courtesy of Edward Dawson, Images of Mexico http://www.dallas.net/~lalo

Being such a large ruin and popular with tourists from all over the world, Uxmal sports an impressive visitor center that one must traverse prior to actually entering the ruins. After everyone had had the opportunity for a potty break and had taken time to choose ice cream bars and consume them, we finally passed through the turnstile and were on our way to the ruins themselves.

After my experience in the cave and having suffered for days afterwards due to the amount of walking and steps involved, I was a little daunted to look ahead and see a seemingly endless amount of steps leading up to the start of the ruins site. But I had paid my money and suffered through mosquitoes, heat and delay and was not going to miss viewing Uxmal.

So, with Juan and family merrily taking the lead, off we started. B and I quickly fell behind but were not concerned. It had become typical behavior that we would somehow get separated. Upon reaching the top of the steps, we were finally able to view the pyramid. The reason we had come this far. And the only reason I had agreed to view yet another array of tumbling down buildings and more stone, stone, stone.* To say the size and grandeur of it was amazing is not enough. It is a tremendous piece of architecture, looming large above all other buildings or anything else in sight. We snapped a few pictures of it and proceeded down the path that ran to and around it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending upon your point of view, it is no longer open to the public. This means nobody is allowed very close to it and certainly not allowed to climb it. Erosion is fast becoming a problem.

So we continued on around the site, around and through various buildings and up even more of the dastardly small Mayan steps. Even though I was totally tired of viewing ruins by this time, I totally enjoyed this one. The architecture was similar to other Mayan ruins I have visited, and yet totally different. The designs and motifs were different and there were quite a few pointed, not rounded, arches leading from building to building.

After an hour in the blazing hot July afternoon sun, B decided he had enough and headed back to the visitor center. There were still a couple of buildings in the distance I wanted to see better. One was a smaller pyramid and in the distance I could see people on it! I wanted to climb it and get some panoramic photos of the site and surrounding jungle.

Before we could get to it, Juan, who had stayed back with me, and I decided to take a short break in the shade of a very large tree. The rest of the family was already sprawled out there anyway. After a few moments rest, we arose from the cool, grassy area and prepared to venture on deeper into the site. It was at this point that I totally lost my temper.


*Don't get me wrong. I am totally appreciative of the Mayan culture and ruins. It's just that how many of these things can you look at in one week and not get tired of it? One can't eat pheasant every day!

Akil 26

The next morning B and I were up at our usual 7:00 am. Today was Thursday and the last chance we would have to go visit the Mayan ruins of Uxmal. We really wanted to get an early start since it was, after all, July in the Yucatan. Temperatures were soaring above 100 degrees every day and the humidity did not help. We really did not want to trudge around hot ruins in the middle of the day. Our plan the night before was to get up and be on the road no later than 8:30 am. Of course, this being Juan and family, that time came and went with no movement anywhere in the house. We sat on the back porch, drinking coffee and chain smoking, getting more and more irritated as the morning dragged on.

Finally, about 9:30 am, movement was heard coming from the interior of the house. Maybe there was hope yet that we could get on the road before the sun turned into a blazing ball of fire on us. Everybody was up and Juan kept yelling at them to hurry up, we were late getting started. By 11:00 am, everybody was ready to go. Except for one thing. Maria’s sister, Lourdes, and her son, had not yet shown up. They were evidently going with us.

No problem. We would all just load up and drive to her house and pick her up. So off we went the several blocks to her house. Guess what? No Lourdes. So back to Juan’s we drove. Guess what again? No Lourdes. B and I remained in the Jeep and let the family discuss what to do. I have no idea what went on but in the middle of the discussion, Lourdes and son are seen strolling down the street towards us. So, with all the participants finally loaded, we head off for our last great adventure.

We turned once more onto Ruta Puuc. We again passed through Oxkutzcab, and at Ticul turned off on a small road to Santa Elena, where the mummies are. We passed many little ruins along the way, but none of any major importance. Until we reached Labna. As Juan turned into the entrance, I turned to B and said “What are we doing stopping here?” Of course, he had no more idea than did I. Labna is a lesser Mayan ruin, very interesting but not a major stopping point. At least not for us that day. But we dutifully paid our admission and followed the family down the soggy paths towards yet another set of fallen down rocks and half assembled buildings. It did not help that this whole ruin area was the most mosquito infested area of the Yucatan that we had yet encountered! We spent the better part of an hour here, and I did get some marvelous candid photos of everybody. I particularly took great glee in the one I took from behind of all the women going up some steps. They did not share in my amusement.*

By this time, it was going on 1:00 pm and B and I were growing more frustrated by the minute. And hotter. We finally left Labna and got back on the road for Uxmal. We drove past many signs directing us to turn into the jungle and visit even more Mayan ruins. Thankfully we just passed them by. Until we reached a very impressive ruin with a small parking lot on the other side of the road. Juan pulled in and we dutifully, but reluctantly, followed. There was no pyramid here but there was a very impressive building way inside. This ruin was totally surrounded by a chain link fence. Odd. We went to the entrance gate and learned that the admission for this particular place was a whopping forty pesos each ($3.80). This was way too much money for the group to pay so we gave it a pass. The group did decide to browse the gift shop that was conveniently located right by the entrance.

While the rest wandered around, B and I examined some wood carvings that were done in bas relief. They were fabulous. Each depicted a different Mayan God or a scene from Mayan life or some battle. The detail was extraordinary. While we were looking, a young man approached and started to talk to us in English and explain the work. Turns out he was the artist. He had many books containing old pictures taken at various Mayan sites when they were first excavated. Many of them were very old. But all in color. These alone were fascinating. We admired one of his pieces in particular that was probably sixteen by twenty inches. He merrily quoted us the price of 3000 pesos! Since that was almost $300, we gave it a pass. Reluctantly, but a pass nonetheless. Meanwhile Juan and group had grown weary of shopping and were very impatiently waiting for us. You could almost see them tapping their feet in unison! We took way too much pleasure in making them wait for us for a change! But finally we were back in our vehicles and heading once again for our ultimate destination....Uxmal.

* All of my pictures from this trip were downloaded onto a CD. I loaned my only copy to Juan so the family could see the pictures. Somehow it got "lost" and I have never seen the pictures again. Of course, I did not make a back up copy!

Akil 25

Everybody arrived back at Juan’s house and another round of beer was offered. Everybody declined and all the relatives headed for their homes. We patiently waited outside in front for Maria to arrive in the taxi. Since it was only about four blocks to the downtown plaza, I couldn’t imagine what was taking so long.

Finally Maria showed up. Much to my delight she was riding in a Yucatan taxi!



I have always wanted to ride in one but have never had the opportunity. A Yucatan taxi is the three wheeled bicycle. It looks like a regular bike but has two wheels in the front and usually a large basket for carrying luggage or other cargo. In the case of a taxi, they place a board across the front area for passengers. People sit and get their butts pedaled to wherever they want to go within the town. Some of them even have tarp or wooden coverings over the passenger area, just in case of rain. Some of them are plain, some covered with advertising and some decorated according to the operator’s particular taste.

I practically jerked Maria off the seat and plopped down. I was just tipsy enough to insist that I get to go for a ride too. The driver was quite amused, and probably pleased because I counted as a new fare! So down the road we went. It was great fun and I felt like a little kid again, being pulled in a wagon. I could have ridden all over that town! But we reached the end of the street and turned around and returned to the house. Then Juan decided that the driver had not given me a good enough ride. He said something to the driver in Spanish. The driver gladly got off the bike, took the offered beer, and relinquished the driving to Juan! So off we went down the street again! This time I was hanging on for dear life since Juan, for some beer ingested reason, swerved, wove and jerked his way down the street. All the time both of us laughing like hyenas. We returned to the house, paid the driver and called it a night.

It was a pleasant ending to what had been a very unpleasant ending before this. And I got to check another thing off the list of things I want to do before I die! And for sure, next time we go to the Yucatan, I will find some excuse to take another taxi ride!

Akil 24

By this time I had finished the two beers I was allocated from the six pack and had placed them properly in the garbage containers provided. I had made no show of hiding them and it was plainly visible to the police officers across the street that I was drinking beer. It was also plain to them that I was an American. Juan was still drinking his fourth. The crowd immediately began to disassemble and go their separate ways. We were surprised because usually these events are followed by dancing and a band til the wee hours of the morning. Not in Akil and not in the conservative Yucatan.

We were discussing this phenomenon with Juan when suddenly he was surrounded by six police officers. They wanted to arrest him for drinking in public! Wilbur quickly grabbed the can out of Juan’s hand and tossed it in the garbage. “What beer?” was the next statement out of Wilbur’s mouth. No proof, no offense. After much talking and gesturing, they finally went away. But not before Juan had been properly chastised and told what was what in Akil! I was dumbfounded and very angry that they had waited until they saw me toss my last beer can away before they came across to grab Juan. They never said anything to me and never even looked at me, although B and I were standing right by Juan’s side during the whole confrontation. In fact, he was immediately surrounded by family and friends, all yelling at the police! I expressed my indignation to Juan about them only picking on him. He just shrugged his shoulders and said “You are an American. They would never mess with an American no matter what”. This attitude continues to amaze me. Although we have heard the same thing from several Mexicans since moving here, I would never dare put it to the test and purposely break a law. I still consider myself to cute to be in a Mexican jail and definitely don‘t want to be addressed as Seniorita by some big Jose!

Everybody wanted to go back to Juan’s house and, since there was not enough room for everybody in the cars, Maria decided to take a taxi back. So off we went, back home, no dance and with a sour taste for Akil temporarily in our minds.

Akil 23

Since we were there to celebrate the games of summer, the stage had been decorated with various glitter encrusted cardboard cut out sports items. Giant glitter basketballs, soccer balls and who knows what else. There was a small wall on each side of the stage at the back, blocking the view of a set of stairs that the contestants had to climb to get to the stage. It was from behind one of these that the contestants emerged. There were four of them, each either sixteen or seventeen years old.

First up was Miss Baseball. Out she came wearing her baseball cap, a very tight T-shirt and very short shorts. She was carrying a baseball bat and wielded it in a most seductive manner. I swear, if it had been a pole, she would have danced on it! She placed it behind her head on her shoulders, grabbed on with both hands, thrust her ample bosom forward and did a sex strut down the runway that would have put Mae West to shame. The crowd loved it. To me, it looked more like she should have been carrying a sign with her hourly charge than a baseball bat because she was certainly there to sell sex. After an endless amount of time doing all sorts of tricks and ducks and turns with her bat, she relinquished the stage to the next contestant. But not until after they had had an argument over whether she should be allowed down the stairs first or the next contestant should be allowed up them first. Finally Miss Soccer took the stage.

Her prop was of course a soccer ball and she tried in vain to duplicate the efforts of Miss Baseball but never pulled it off. I mean really, how sexy can you be tossing a ball up and down in the air and twirling around like a dervish on stage? At the end of her “presentation”, she received a polite smattering of applause. Nothing like the whistles and clapping that greeted Miss Baseball throughout her “presentation”. The next two contestants were Miss Basketball and Miss Volleyball. Repeats of Miss Soccer. No one could hold a candle to Miss Baseball. Perhaps they should have chosen a different prop?

Next up, while the contestants changed wardrobes, was some local celebrity women. She sang her heart out on stage and was really quite a good singer. I would have enjoyed listening to her longer, but the girls were now all gowned up and ready to strut again.

Miss Baseball returned to the stage a changed woman. She was wearing a beautiful and tasteful black gown. It was strapless, although I think she would have preferred topless, and had a huge skirt that seemed to take up most of the stage. I was amazed that she was able to make it up the stairs with that on. She very elegantly and stylishly walked the runway, turning so that the crowd could get a good view of every part of her and her gown. Although I thought her first performance was terribly slutty, she pulled off the gown competition admiringly. After the same fight at the top of the stairs, Miss Soccer took the stage.

She wore a dress the color of stale lime juice that did nothing for her. It was a one shoulder ordeal that hugged her tighter than a scared monkey. One side of the skirt ended just below her panty line and it angled sharply down to almost her ankle on the other side. It was a most unfortunate choice and the store that sold it to her should be closed down and fined severely. But who am I to judge? The crowd loved it. They love anything that says SEX to them, especially if it is blatant.

The next two contestants were just a blur to me. Nothing memorable about them at all. Each of the contestants took an extraordinary amount of time on the stage. Returning to the stage and back down the runway so many times, the distance they walked up there was probably equal to that in a marathon! Finally they were all done and were replaced on stage by a local male singer. He was good also, but not as good as the woman. Once he was done, the MC grabbed the mike again and, after the normal amount of screeching and wailing from the microphone, was able to talk. And talk. And talk. I have no idea what he said but I didn’t know that there were that many words in Spanish! Finally he got to the part the crowd was waiting for and brought all the contestants back up on stage, still in their gowns. I was disappointed that there was not a talent competition. That would have been really interesting!

They began to announce the prizes. First Miss Congeniality, won by Miss Baseball wearing the black gown. Next was Miss Best Public Use of a Baseball Bat, won by you know who. Then Miss Best Hair Do, Miss Best This and then Miss Best That, all won by you know who. She had so many medallions around her neck, if she had fallen out of a boat wearing them, she would have immediately sunk to the bottom of the ocean, faster and deeper than the Titanic. Then it was time for the actual crowning of Miss Games of Summer. The moment everyone had been waiting for.

After the reception Miss Baseball Bat had gotten, and her sweeping of all the awards, I was not expecting any big surprise. Out came the crown and the roses and (drum roll here) the crown was awarded to.....


Miss Stale Lime Juice Gown!

I was shocked but the crowd went wild with glee. I found out later that Miss Black Gown came from one of the richer families in town and was not well liked, but Daddy had sponsored a lot of money for the festival. Miss Stale Lime Juice was just one of the regular townies, a real sweetheart and liked by everybody. Politics, it seemed, awarded all but the biggest prize to Miss Baseball Bat.