Wilma 05

We located our room on the second floor, briefly unpacked and refreshed ourselves and headed out to do a little exploring, a little eating and lots of fact finding. Or at least lots of rumor gathering! Nobody knew much of anything at this point because news was still sparse out of Cancun.

Our first stop was the bus station. We wanted to see if buses were running to Cancun and by which route. If push came to shove, two of us might have to take the bus home while one of us stayed with the car and waited for the road to reopen. But we did not have to make that decision. No buses were running to Cancun and they had no idea when to expect to be running that route again. Scary news.

We spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening visiting the internet and waiting our turn for one of the machines, getting something to eat, talking to other travelers and sitting in the park smoking and discussing our options. There weren’t very many options available to us so that discussion did not take up much time. It was just so frustrating, no being able to do anything and not being able to get any information. The satellite dishes had been knocked out so there was no cable TV in our room. No radio either. What little valid information we were able to get came from the internet. But it could not tell us if friends were ok, if our house was still standing or even when we could expect to get home. My fear of what we were going to eventually find was mounting.

As we sat in the park, we suddenly spotted a taxi van from Cancun driving by! It took a second to dawn on us that it was from Cancun and must have made it through somehow. Or else maybe it had just evacuated before the storm, getting the hell out of the way before Wilma hit. We sauntered over and struck up a conversation with the driver. Yes!!! He had just arrived from Cancun. A group of tourists had paid him $500 to get them this far. They needed to get to Merida to catch a plane home. This is when we learned that the Cancun airport was closed and possibly destroyed. Not good news for L. This was Sunday and he had to catch a plane to Quito, Ecuador on Friday to start leading his South America tour. The driver was not optimistic about our chances to get to Cancun. He had taken the chance and driven through water that came up to the bottom of the windows of his van! He considered himself lucky that his van had not stalled out and that he had made it through. Some sort of miracle I figure. His van must have been full like a fish bowl as he passed through. In fact, he had his hood open trying to dry out the engine as we talked. The interior was a mess. He said if he had known about the water, he would never have even attempted the trip. But it was a lot of money and now he was going to have to spend most of it to get his van fixed! We left him at the curb and headed back into the park to sit a spell.

We next decided to get our address book and call everybody we knew. We knew that all power and phone lines were down going to Cancun and in Cancun itself. But maybe a cell relay tower would still be up or selected poles left standing? It was worth a try anyway. We were desperate for news. We called everybody we knew. We could not even get a voice mail to answer on the cell phones. This was bad. We had one last person in our book and dialed that number in Cancun. After a few rings, he answered! We were very relieved and he was able to fill us in on some information, but not much.

He said he was safe, just some damage to his front garden and a little water in the house. He was very grateful for that. He said that nothing was working and nothing was running. No buses, no taxis, no planes. There was a curfew and Cancun was a mess. He advised that we stay put for a few days. He had heard nothing about the island. The news that was running on the radio never even mentioned it, he said. We thanked him and hung up. With heavy hearts and dismal thoughts running through our heads, we headed back to our room for a bit of rest before going to dinner.

We had dinner at one of the “fancier” restaurants in town. We thought we were treating our broken spirits. But the meal was horrible all the way around and we left not feeling any better for the experience. Not knowing what else to do, we decided to check the bus station again. It had now been about seven hours since we last checked. L went up to the window and was there for only a brief time. He returned to us with the jubilant news that buses were now arriving from Cancun! They expected to start running buses from here to Cancun tomorrow! This was good news indeed. It must mean that the road had been cleared and drained and we would be able to get home after all! We went to bed three excited people. Tomorrow we would be home, or at least be able to see what was left of it. We planned on getting a very early start since we didn’t know what else we might run into or how long the trip would take. I fell into a fitful sleep that night, worried about the trip ahead and what we were probably going to find when we eventually made it back to the island.

Wilma 04

Under gray skies, we headed out of Merida and onto the freeway system to Cancun. Normally, this is a four hour journey but we had no idea of how long it was going to take us today. We were on the road by 8 am. We knew we would need some extra time.

A little over two hours after leaving Merida, we arrived at the border between the states of Yucatan and Quintana Roo. This check point and toll booth is just past the exit to Valledolid. There was nobody in the toll booth but a state official was there, giving out information. He told us that the booth was closed and we would not be required to pay a toll for this part of the freeway. Okay then. We saved $10 right there! He also told us that the freeway was open all the way to Cancun and we could just keep going. We were, to say the least, relieved to hear this piece of news.We drove another twenty minutes further towards Cancun before we really started to see things that we knew were caused by Wilma.

The trees started to have branches missing, were at times totally ripped out by the roots and otherwise were devoid of any greenery. It was like some plague had passed through that left every tree and bush twisted and knurled and totally stripped of all leaves. It was eerie. Further along the road and the damage to the flora grew increasingly worse. At times, the freeway totally disappeared under a slippery carpet of green. The whole road would be covered in the leaves from the trees and bushes. Ever closer to Cancun and the debris on the road was increasing exponentially. Now we were encountering actual trees and huge limbs lying on or across the road. Luckily, having a small car, we were able to dance our way around and through them.

All the while we drove it continued to rain. Sometimes just a sprinkle. Sometimes so hard it was frightening. And there was still a wind. Not enough to actually blow us off the road, but at times it gusted and blew and really shook the car. I was not really frightened, but a little apprehensive about this weather. After all, Wilma was still not that far away. Out over the Gulf now, but the tailings this monstrous storm generated were still flowing over the Yucatan Peninsula and we were started to get buffeted with them. But we kept going. At times just crawling, at times almost normal speed. One and one half hours and 65 miles after passing through the Valledolid checkpoint, where the official said we should keep going, we saw it.

Up ahead was a cluster jam of cars only like one sees on a TV disaster movie. You know, where everyone is trying to get out of town but nobody is moving. There were cars on the highway ahead as far as I could see. On the road, in both lanes, off the road on both sides. There was no way anybody was going to go anywhere in this mess. We thought it was just a traffic jam that would eventually clear. Maybe a downed tree that people were trying to get out of the way? We just didn’t know. I parked the car on the side of the road and the three of us got out to go have a look see. We walked for about a mile, weaving our way in and out of the cars parked everywhere. It didn’t help that there were also throngs of people just standing around getting in the way. We could see what looked like military trucks and lots of CFE (Mexican electric company. Remember these initials) trucks with generators, spools of wire and all kinds of electrical equipment loaded onto them. But nobody from our side was going anywhere.

As it turned out, the road was blocked by water. There are virtually no hills of any import along this freeway, but there are a few pretty good dips. It was at the bottom of one of these that the water was accumulating. Maybe for a half mile at this point. We could see cars lined up on the other side of it. This was curious because we were on a divided freeway and they should not have been facing us on our side of the road. Something was forcing them onto our lane. I never did find out what for sure, but I suspect water on their side. We just stood there and looked for awhile. We tried to guess how deep it might be, but there was just no way of knowing. It was high enough that only the tops of some of the bushes on the side of the road peeked out of the water. But we did not know how tall the bushes were. Everybody just stared at it and the lake it formed as far as we could see into the jungle surrounding us. Like it would dry up if we all turned our angry, red glares upon it. No such luck though. And we could not tell where the actual edges of the road were.

Incredibly, as we watched, a bus tried to cross. But not before discharging all of its’ passengers to make their way across on foot. People started across, carrying what luggage they had with them on the bus. This particular bus did not bother to unload the luggage that is carried under the bus. They have luggage compartments there, similar to the overheads in airplanes. Most luggage is carried there. It did not take long for the water to reach peoples waists. As they continued towards us, up over their heads went whatever they were carrying with them. Even though the water kept getting deeper, on they came. The water in the middle ended up being neck high on some of the shorter people. I would guess then that it was around five feet deep there. Amid many cheers, the people finally exited the water on our side. Then it was the bus’ turn. Stupid to even try. The driver saw how deep it was on the people that crossed. But he put the bus in gear and started forward. Needless to say, before he even got to the deepest part, he stalled out and smoke was coming from the motor. Nothing for the driver to do but exit the bus himself and come over to our side. We just shook our heads, knowing that we were not going to cross here today or any other day soon.Reluctantly we headed back to the car. I was able to turn around and we carefully back tracked the wrong way on the freeway until we found a place to cut through the shrubs and headed back towards Valledolid.

When we finally reached the checkpoint there was not an official around. They had all left, taking their misinformation with them! We stopped and used the bathroom and talked to some fellow travelers. The news was not good. We had been right about the water. One guy told us that the water was almost three meters deep back there, or about ten feet. Glad we didn’t try to run it! The other bad news was that the free, non-toll, road that parallels the freeway was even worse. The water there was deeper than anybody cared to measure. We were told that whole villages along the road were now under water. Not good news for anybody. We thought about maybe cutting over cross country and taking the road the runs from Tulum in the south to Cancun. We didn’t think it would be open either. The eye passed over Playa del Carmen and we were hearing reports that it was gone, just wiped off the map. It was too awful to think about that being true. Nothing to do but head into Valledolid and try to get a room.

We entered downtown central Valledolid and it was mess. The streets were still somewhat flooded and there were people and cars everywhere. We really did not think we would get a room. There were just so many refugees about. Probably more tourists than Valledolid sees in months. But L got us a room in the first hotel we checked, just kitty corner from the main square downtown. We were relieved that at least we were going to have a place to eat and sleep without returning all the way to Merida. We parked the car in the secured parking lot and headed up to check out our quarters for what we hoped would be one night.

Wilma 03

We knew that we would have to stay in Cancun for the night. It was a four hour drive to Merida and it was already 7:30pm when we docked at Punta Sam. Better to spend the night and high tail it in the morning. Wilma was not due to come ashore until late Thursday night so we figured we had plenty of time yet. Not wanting to get too deeply into Cancun proper, we decided to stay the night at the downtown Radisson. As an aside, I would not recommend this overpriced hotel. The hotel itself is fine, but the rooms and the service are greatly overrated and priced. We found a nice little restaurant close by, ate dinner and retired to the room. We were all exhausted. Not so much physically as mentally. This day had been very stressful, to say the least. And there was to be more stress to come.

Thursday morning and we were up early. We wanted to get a good start just in case we ran into trouble. We didn’t really realize how things had changed until we went outside to get the car. The wind had picked up considerably overnight and was blowing strongly. Trees were already bending and snapping in the wind and the streets were full of stuff blowing around. And it was raining. Not too much, just enough to have to use the windshield wipers. It looked like full staff and maybe some extra helpers were out and about the hotel. They were trying to board up entrances and take down awnings. They were having a tough time of it in the wind.

We proceeded to take our normal route out of Cancun but it was slower than usual. Two things were slowing us down. The first was the water. It must have rained quite hard during the night because the streets were already flooded in a lot of places and cars were carefully picking their way through areas where the road could not be seen at all. The second was all the crews out removing the light bulbs from the street lights. I guess they figured they were going to loose the fixtures anyway, might just as well save all the bulbs! Something I would never have thought to do and I am still not sure it was the most valuable use of manpower.

Our drive, once out of Cancun and on the freeway, was uneventful. Just long and boring as the route usually is to Merida. We made it to Merida about midday, parked the car in the secure hotel lot and checked in. We were staying at the Dolores Alba on 63rd and 54th. This is the hotel L always stayed at with the tour groups he led in Mexico. It is an excellent, medium priced hotel and I highly recommend it. It even has an elevator for those of us who no longer enjoy traipsing up three flights of stairs all the time!

Our time spent in Merida was horrible. We usually enjoy this great colonial city but we were all too fraught with worry to really relax. A lot of time was spent in the room, channel hopping on cable TV, trying to find some news about Wilma. And there was precious little of it. We could get local news stations and CNN Mexico but the coverage was lousy. They didn’t seem to care too much about it coming except to keep showing a display of what to do before, during and after a hurricane strike. And the local channels went off the air for the weekend so we lost even that venue.

We checked the internet often. It was scary to say the least. I am sure most of you reading this either were tuned to satellite TV images or the Weather Channel so you know what I am talking about. The worst, absolutely the worst moment, was when we pulled up the satellite image and statistics on Friday night. Wilma was not moving at all and was stalled out right over Cancun and Isla Mujeres.

I almost started to cry right in the internet. I felt so helpless, knowing that we had friends there and there was nothing we could do. I prayed that they were all staying safe. I really, at that moment, did not think we would have a home, or indeed an island, to return to. How could little Isla Mujeres withstand a constant pounding of 155 MPH winds? Would our house withstand it? Would the sea rise the 30 feet it needed to gain entrance to our house? Would any of the “cardboard houses” still remain? What about downtown where it is the lowest and closest to the sea? I really could not begin to imagine what must be happening and what the people who stayed were going through as we all just silently stared at the screen and that big white glob of destruction. It was horrible, the not knowing. As it turns out, Wilma sat on top of the island for a total of 65 hours and dumped 23” of rain on us. But the damage report comes later.

After three days in Merida, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, Wilma had moved on and we decided it was time for us to do the same. We had tried calling everybody we know, both on the island and in Cancun, trying to get some news. But it was useless. All phone lines were dead. There were no satellites working for cell phones. We called the local Red Cross in Merida, but they had little information and had heard absolutely nothing about the island. We did not know if we would make it home, but we knew we had to try. Our nerves could not stand the sitting around any longer. So early Sunday morning, car packed, we headed back to the freeway to start the journey home.

Wilma 02

I was shocked, to say the least, when I pulled up the satellite image of Wilma on Wednesday morning. She had turned from a Category 1 to a Category 5 overnight! And she was on the move! Projections now had her eye either passing directly over us or within 20 miles of us! Either way, too close for comfort. When winds of 155 mph extend outwards from the eye for 75 miles, 20 miles is way too dangerous. We were looking at big trouble and we knew it.

That day was spent checking and restocking our hurricane kit, getting more bottles of purified water and bringing everything left outdoors into the house. We put most of the furniture up on cement blocks and moved everything of any importance to us up onto the highest shelves of the house. We put three of the six hurricane shutters up and considered ourselves done for the day. The three of us had already had many discussions about whether to stay or leave. My vote was always for fleeing, B’s was always to stay. No surprises there! L refused to vote or take sides. Until later in the day. The projected path now had the eye passing directly over us. To purposely stay in the path of a Category 5 hurricane when you have an option to leave was just pure madness, in my opinion. I guess L agreed because first thing we knew, he had the travel guide out and was calling Merida to book a room for two nights. Thursday and Friday. B had reluctantly agreed that we had better leave.

Late in the day, B and I stopped by our friend P’s house to see what preparations she was making and to see if she needed anything. She informed us that she was fine and that she was staying. She had been advised by several people that she should not stay in her house though. Like us, she is right on the waterfront and could potentially be sitting in a bad position. She was going to ride it out with some friends in their house in the middle of the island. They live right on the lake in the interior. She would be safe from any surge there. Or so we all thought at the time. A Mexican friend of hers had also stopped by and told her he was vacating to Valledolid with his family. He told her that they had announced that the 6:30 pm car ferry would be the last one to leave the island before the hurricane! This was not good news at all.We now had to make the decision as to whether to try to make that ferry and get off the island, or forget it and stay here and ride Wilma out.

We raced home and shared the news with L. It was a horrible five minutes as we all did emotional gymnastics. To leave? To stay? The time had come for that decision and it had to be made….and fast. We decided we at least had to try to catch that ferry. Whether we would get on it or not was unknown. We made a frenzied, almost insane rush to finish putting up the hurricane shutters, packing our backpacks, shutting off the water, electricity and gas and doing whatever else we could think of to prepare the house. Then we took one last look and locked the door behind us.

We arrived at the ferry with 40 minutes to spare. But we were not the only ones there. The parking lot was full of cars, and worse, construction trucks and delivery vehicles all trying to get off the island also. I dropped B off at the ticket window and took my place in line. L and I waited and waited but B did not return to the car. That could only mean that they were not selling anymore tickets. Either they were waiting to see how many vehicles they could get on, or they were sold out. I sent L to check. I sat there, mentally biting my nails and trying not to panic. If we did not get on this ferry, we would have no choice but to stay and ride out this impending hurricane. The tension was awful. They kept loading truck after truck but very few cars. Then, with very little space left, they did the unthinkable. They started to load a huge piece of road repair equipment that was on tracks instead of wheels. This piece of equipment would take up any room left on the ferry. My heart sank as I sat there and watched, feeling we were doomed. It was such a feeling of helplessness and despair.

Suddenly, to my great joy, there was a commotion where they were trying to load this huge beast of machinery. They had been putting down logs in front of it for the tracks to ride on. It apparently had slipped off one of the logs and the track had come off! No way they were going to load it now! That meant that there was going to be some room for cars. But I was so far back in the line, I really did not hold much hope of getting on. I was right. The loaders immediately starting motioning to several cars to get on. I slowly moved further towards the front. When I could see that there was only room for three more cars and that I was now fifth in line, I lost all hope. B and L were still standing at the ticket window. I think they knew we would not get on also but were waiting, just in case they had to pay for a ticket. My mind was racing with horrible visions of howling winds and water flooding into my house when I realized that the loader was motioning for me to get out of line and get on the ferry! Thank God for having a compact car that takes up little space! I felt horrible passing around the people in front of me who obviously also wanted on that ferry as badly as I did. But I was not the one making decisions that night. As I turned onto the ramp, with a grin so wide it hurt my face, I saw B and L running towards me with a ticket in hand. I parked the car on the ferry and met up with B and L. Together we ascended to the passenger deck. None of us said anything more than “We made it”. We were all lost temporarily in our thoughts. We discussed it later and we were all thinking the same thing. So glad to have made it, but so very sad to be leaving and also angry that this was happening to us at all.

The crossing was rough. The waves were huge and the ferry rides very low in the water. We literally crashed our way across with huge volleys of water flying up and over the vehicles with every wave. I was glad it was night and I could not see further than the ferry lights directly in front of us. I did not want a clear look at the angry water we were trying to get through. I understood why there would be no ferries as I watched the water below us. It was just too dangerous to continue. Whoever was left on the island would just have to batten down as tightly as possible.

Wilma 01

Story note: the following events occurred in October and early November 2005.




Willlll-maaaa! I remember as a kid watching Fred Flintstone standing in the door to his house yelling that. And instead of being greeted with love and affection, he gets slammed to the ground and run over by Dino, his dog. And that’s exactly what this feels like. Except it wasn’t Dino, it was Wilma, the hurricane, that knocked us down and is keeping us there for now.



This time it started somewhere around October 14th. As usual, over morning coffee, I fired up the computer and checked the satellite map. Living where we do, and having experienced two hurricanes first hand in less than a year, I am a bit hurricane shy. I saw Wilma first as a large white dot just north of the Honduras/Nicaraguan border. I checked the other six sites I keep in a folder labeled “Hurricane” in my Favorites list. Not much going on and only one had her listed as anything and that was a numbered tropical depression. She was worth watching, but not to worry about at this point in time.



So life went on as usual for the next few days. Except that L and I had planned a four day birthday extravaganza for B’s birthday, which was Tuesday, October 18th. It started on Saturday and we had special events and festivities planned for everyday. It was supposed to be a time of great fun and celebration, but Wilma kept getting in the way. By Sunday, October 16th, we had scuttled most of the outdoor plans because the weather was just getting too yucky and unpredictable. So no day out in Cancun spending the day at Wet and Wild Water Park in the hotel zone. We had all been looking forward to this adventure; surfing in the wave pool, a lazy float on the river and the 45 foot drop water shoot. The sun came out again on Tuesday. Maybe in celebration of B’s actual birthday? We were able to take him to breakfast downtown and even go to the beach for a little while.When we got home from the beach we decided that we had better check on Wilma again. We discovered that she was now a full blown Category 1 hurricane and tracking directly for us. We decided to start preparing the houses.



We put the bed in the cabana up on cement blocks, piled all of the furniture on top of it, brought in all of the plastic furniture, shut off the power and water and put up the hurricane shutters. For us, these are sheets of plywood that have been cut to fit each window and screw into the cement walls. This done, we locked the door and turned our attention to our house.Since Wilma was still a ways away from us, and not knowing for sure which of the three predicted paths she would take, we did not want to fortress ourselves in too early. We contented ourselves with putting on the hurricane shutters upstairs and clearing the roof top terrace of everything. All plastic lounge chairs and furniture, plants and the now drained plastic swimming pool. All of this was put in safe storage in the bedrooms up there. We locked these doors, went downstairs and did not look back. That night we took B to Cancun to a surprise destination for drinks and dinner. We had a fantastic dinner at one of downtown Cancun’s better restaurants. Totally exhausted, and with a little too much wine in our systems, we caught the ferry back to the island and headed for home.

Car Trip Final Chapter

Monday morning, May 2, 2005. Only a little over four more hours of driving and we would be home! Or pretty close to it anyway. We had to catch the car ferry back to the island before we could really say we were home!

We were up at 6:00 am. All three of us anxious to have breakfast and get underway. We made sure everything was packed and then headed out for breakfast.

Just across the street from our hotel is the Cafe Habana. This is a very old coffee shop/restaurant in Merida. We have had breakfast and dinner there on more than one occasion. So why, of all mornings, did we have to have the worst experience ever here?! There was a really shabby feeling about it on this morning. The waiters were all standing around, doing nothing. Some of them had there heads down on the bar and were actually sleeping! I know it was early, but please. Once awake, they were a sullen lot. It was hard to get their attention. This once elegant establishment had somehow sunk to the level of serving creamer in paper packets!
This from a place that still roasts there own coffee on the premises! Never mind. We will just remember our last experience there and more than likely choose someplace else from now on when in Merida.

“On the road again. Just can’t wait to get on the road again.” That was the phrase going through my head as we returned to our room, gathered our stuff and checked out. We got the car out of the parking lot and were truly heading for home.

It was a totally uneventful trip back to Cancun. Four hours along that dreaded, boring stretch of freeway. The one where the jungle comes right to the edge of the road and it is like driving down a giant green tunnel. Nothing to see and no cars hardly at all. Freeway negotiated and on through the outskirts of Cancun and the city proper. Out the other side and on to Punta Sam where we catch the car ferry. We pulled in and parked the car in line and breathed a sigh of relief. We had survived a great adventure but could see our island, beckoning us home once more!

We agreed that we had a good time and could hardly wait to start planning our next great adventure!

Next Up: the drama that was Hurricane Wilma. Living through it and the horrible aftermath.

Car Trip 35

Our first destination, and only around the corner from our hotel, was the central plaza. This is where all the vendors and merchants are. The streets on all four sides of the square are blocked off on Sunday. One of the streets usually has a stage set up at one end for a band. Today was different. There was a stage at both ends of the street, creating a giant dance floor on the wide street between the two. When one band stopped, the other started. They just kept taking turns and also took turns in trying to outdo each other! But the most incredible part were the dancers. Just ordinary people. Old folks, children and everyone in between. All dancing like there was to be no tomorrow. It was great fun to stand in the park, which is higher than street level, and watch them. There had to be over 100 couples, if not more, crowded into the street. It was a teeming swirl of salsa dancing delight!

We had had that late lunch by Champoton and stuffed ourselves. None of us were particularly hungry so we did not feel the need for a giant dinner. Unless you call a huge slice of pizza a giant dinner! We got pizza and a Coke from a little hole in the wall for 14 pesos! About $1.30. Cheap dinner! We had had enough of the music, crowds and street vendors at this point. We all wanted to find some more discografia CDs and L thought he knew a street where they set up. Off we went, dodging through the crowds until we came out on the other side of the square and the going was a bit more peaceful. We never did find the street where they set up. Or maybe they just weren’t set up that Sunday. At any rate, L, who can smell an ice cream stand within a three block radius, decided he wanted some ice cream. Down a street we went, turned left and just a few doors down Voila! an ice cream shop! I don’t know how he does it, but I’m glad he has that skill! We bought our ice cream and discovered that we were not too far from our hotel. We strolled past a bunch of sidewalk vendors, sitting on the sidewalk with their merchandise spread out on blankets or whatever they had. Lots and lots of jewelry and the ever present folks from Chiapas, selling their hand woven and braided belts, shawls, tablecloths, hand decorated shirts and bags.

We very successful and adroitly avoided purchasing a single thing and decided enough was enough. Tomorrow we would be home. We just wanted to get some cold bottles of water to take back to the room and go to sleep. So that is exactly what we did!

Car Trip 34

There was no way we could make it all the way from Acayucan to Cancun in one day. We had originally planned on spending the night in Villahermosa but that plan got scraped long ago. It was decided then that we could and would shoot for Merida today. So off we went.

We mostly backtracked the route B and I had taken to start our journey and to get to Veracruz to meet up with L. We were back on what has now become to me the familiar old Mexico 180! Straight freeway shot all the way to Villahermosa, about 156 miles. Piece of cake except for the border crossing from the state of Veracruz back into hot old Tabasco. We got stopped at the military check point there. Although not the scariest checkpoint we had encountered, it was by far the most thorough of them all. Even though it was spitting rain, they made us all get out and stand over there please in the rain. Not fun. And I could not get close enough to watch them do the inspection, which always makes me nervous. With no guns, drugs or illegal immigrants found to be stashed in our little car, they waved us on our way.

Just after Villahermosa we found a place to pull over and we switched drivers, putting B behind the steering wheel. I was very glad to do this. Not only was I sick and tired of driving, but I did not want to be the one driving across that bridge at Frontera again! Let B deal with it while I squeezed my eyes tightly shut! We made it over it just fine and proceeded with no further adventures or really anything of interest. We had seen it all before. And this was my third time on this particular stretch of road through Mexico.

We were getting hungry so we started to look for a restaurant as we passed through Ciudad del Carmen again. Nothing. We followed the road along the coast, looking for a seafood restaurant or something. The ones we did see were few and far between and they were all closed. We continued the 92 miles to Champoton with stomachs growling and eyes peeled for a restaurant. Just before reaching Champoton proper, which is also right on the Gulf, we came to an area of a whole line of restaurants. Take your pick. So we did, choosing El Pelicano. It was just the closest one to where we could pull over and park. There were no parking lots for these restaurants. Just pull over anywhere you can and squeeze in with the other stopped cars and semis.
We had been expecting just food. Something to fill us up and be on our way.

We thought we might be in for something a little different when they brought the "botana", or appetizer. It was so good, L asked them what it was. It was a dipping sauce made out of roasted Jalapeno peppers. These were blended into a paste and then mixed with oil, garlic and black pepper. Talk about fire! It was one of those hot sauces that make you exclaim over the hotness but that you just can’t keep your chip out of! Then came the main course. B and L had both ordered the breaded chicken breast. What they got were three huge breaded breasts each. Since L has a hollow leg, he had no trouble downing all of it! I had ordered "La Mexicana", not knowing what it was going to be but not much caring either. Surprise me. What I got was big chunks of chicken breast, cooked and served in some kind of red hot sauce with lots of garlic, tomatoes and more Jalapeno pepper pieces. My lips were on fire by the time I finished it, but finish it I did! That meal was without a doubt one of the best ones we had on the whole trip. The next time we pass by on that road, we will for sure stop there again!

With me behind the wheel again, we pulled out onto the road again and headed for our final destination today, Merida. About another 110 miles, and none of it on freeway now. It was turning out to be another very hot day. Hotter than usual for early May. This was Sunday, May 1. When we finally hit Merida around 5pm, the temperature was still 86 fahrenheit.

I have mentioned Merida before in my babblings. I love Merida. It is the capital city of the state of Yucatan and we have been there many times. Many of you may remember that we were there last July with Juan and his family! Merida is full of colonial buildings, parks, museums and even a zoo. It is considered the cultural center of the whole Yucatan peninsula. It is sometimes also referred to as The White City because of so many white buildings. I especially love Merida on Sunday when the area around the center of town is closed to all but foot traffic. Merida on Sunday is a party. A tame party, but a party just the same. There are bands everywhere, playing every kind of music. Of course, salsa music prevails! There are food vendors, mostly selling tacos, fried meat and anything you can imagine that can be fried in fat. The entire main plaza is turned over to merchants selling everything from balloons to handmade clothing to cheap trinkets. It is like no other city I have seen.

We had no trouble getting a room at our old stand-by hotel right downtown, The Reforma. We last stayed there with our friends Jerry and Loretta when they came down for a visit. I was starting to notice a bit of decay at that point, but, hey, this is Mexico. This time we were really disappointed in our room. It stank. Literally. There was some kind of bad odor coming from somewhere, and it wasn’t from us! And the bathroom door wouldn’t even close! We immediately insisted on a different room, which we got. It was so hot that night, the air conditioner in our room never did reach the coolest setting. It ran on high all night, trying to cool down the room. We have decided that we are not going to stay there anymore.

So a quick shower and then we were to be off and about fantastic Merida. Although L has been to Merida many times, he had never been there on a Sunday. I was looking forward to hearing what he thought of it since the city is totally different then.

Car Trip 33

Saturday morning and we were up kind of earlyish. We wanted to have a nice breakfast before heading out on the road again. We planned to make it to Acayucan today, just for the one night on our return trip home.

Just down the street from our hotel was another one. The prices here were higher than the Holiday Inn. It looked to be an older, more classic type place. We peeked into the windows of the attached restaurant, which fronted the street. It was very well appointed and the menu looked ok so in we went. It was not what we expected. The service was terrible. We were virtually ignored the whole time. We had to signal the waiter every time we wanted something. And then wait and wait again for him to finally bring it. And the food was not exceptional either. We did not seem to have good luck at any of the posher, more ritzy restaurants anywhere on the trip. The best food we had was at little diners and side street, out of the way restaurants. I don’t think we will ever bother with trying to eat at a fancy place again. Just good plain Mexican food for us.

Our route today was going to be around 600 miles. On the Atlas, it appeared to be freeway all the way. A welcome change from all that mountain driving! We would be following MX150 all the way to Cordoba and just past there switch to MX 145 all the way to the Acayucan cut off.
With L navigating us once again, we negotiated our way out of Puebla and found the entrance to the freeway with no problem. The road was nice and flat for quite awhile but then started a gentle sloping. Not a lot of turns but one could tell we were ascending again. Well, back into the Sierra Madres for awhile!

It wasn’t long before we could truly tell we were back into the mountains. The drop offs were getting steeper and steeper. No guardrails of course. As if one needed any incentive to be careful on this road. The numerous crosses and memorials people had put up along the road were quite sobering.

We reached what appeared to be the summit of this particular little range we were trying to get over. We flattened out for just a bit and then, like a roller coaster, started our descent down the other side. All went well until we rounded one corner. Up ahead the traffic was at a dead stop. Once I caught up to them and came to a stop behind a bus, I could see that as far ahead as I could see, cars were all lined up and stopped. We inched our way forward, me in neutral and riding the brake the entire time. When we were about in the middle of the downward sloping curve, I could see the road ahead all the way to the bottom. It would appear and reappear as it meandered its' way down the mountain. I could even see down below me the road we had to take....once we got to it! It was going to take quite awhile. Cars, buses, minivans and trucks were all piled up, riding each others' bumpers as far as I could see. And it was hot! Very hot that day. No breeze at all. We had all the windows down but were suffering. At least when driving, some breeze is generated. I did not dare close the windows and turn on the air conditioning. I did not want to risk overheating and becoming stranded!

We finally reached the scene of the accident that had slowed everybody down. It appeared that a semi had tried to take this last, sharp corner a little too fast. It was jack knifed and lying on its’ side in the ditch. It had been carrying a load of flattened cardboard boxes and they were strewn everywhere. Police were trying to clean it up and still direct traffic safely around it. The only difference between this accident and the traffic tie ups that you have probably all experienced, is that at least the scenery was great!

This was to be our last stretch of real mountains. We had some large hills to cross on our way back towards sea level and the coast. For the most part though, heavy duty mountain driving was a thing of the past and I was very glad for that. As we flattened out, the landscape gradually changed and became drier, dustier and the vegetation was definitely taking on a brown appearance. And it was getting hotter and hotter. We thought at first that we had been in the high mountain desert atmosphere for too long and were not used to the heat of the lowlands. We had just had two glorious weeks of warm days and cool nights. But now it just kept getting hotter. I have a thermometer that I keep in the car. I like to know the temperature around me at all times. Just a stupid quirk. When it said the temperature inside the car was 110 degrees, we thought it time to roll up the windows and turn on the air. An hour later and we were still sweltering at over 100 degrees. We just gave up and rolled the windows down again. Fresh air is always better, even if it is hot.

We reached our junction for Acayucan and left the nice freeway system behind. We were now traveling the same road B and I had taken two weeks earlier on our way to Catemaco. It seemed strange, like we were backtracking or going around in circles. We had not actually entered the town though, we just went by it. This time we had to go right downtown. At first glance Acayucan had all the charm of any other crowded, dirty, slightly dangerous feeling town. We decided not to spend a lot of time checking out hotels here. It was 5 pm, we had been on the road for over 6 hours and we needed a shower badly! All that heat in the car had tested the protective power of our deodorants! We found a very pleasant hotel, which had a restaurant attached open 24 hours a day. This would be great tomorrow morning. We were surprised to get such a nice room on the fourth floor so cheaply. There was a sign in the lobby proclaiming that this hotel had achieved a four star rating. I wondered from whom. But it truly was a nice hotel. Clean, safe and up to date.

Our room had a little balcony with a sliding door. I noticed the tree tops blowing quite hard outside so I opened up the door, thinking there would be a nice breeze. What I got was a blast of hot air full in the face! The heat outside was still incredible and the wind was carrying the heat around, dispersing it even more. I quickly shut the door and retreated back into the safety of our pleasantly air conditioned room.

We found a nice little restaurant just off the town square. We had a quick dinner and decided to have a look see at the town. We could see the town square a block away from our hotel. It appeared that something special was going on there. It didn’t take long to figure out what the hubbub was all about. Today was Day of the Children in Mexico and this was part of the celebration. We wandered around a little bit, had a snack from the vendors and made our way to the other side of the square.

Lining the entire block and filling the sidewalk on that side of the square were all of the guys selling black market videos, DVDs and CDs. Or maybe not black market, but definitely copies. We bought a few discografias. These are compilation CDs and include every album, CD or song ever released by the artist. They usually contain all the words to the songs and pictures of every album cover also. You have to put them in your computer to see them. They are all, of course, done in MP3 format. You really get a bang for your buck since they charge from $3-5 US.

Even though it was still relatively early, we decided we had enough for one night and returned to our air conditioned room and called it a day.

Car Trip 32

After our successful tour of the talavera factory, we headed back towards the main square downtown. We had seen a coffee shop there and all wanted a cup of java to rejuvenate. We walked around a bit more and then had lunch. After lunch we headed over to Barrio del Artista.

This is an area that has been set aside only for artists. It is a pedestrian zone of little working studios. Each artists displays his work in front of his studio on easels for passersby to admire and, hopefully, buy! There was some very good work there, but there was no way we could buy a large painting and transport it home again!

Just down the street and around the corner was the huge crafts market. The kind that has stall after stall of the same stuff all crowded so close together you can hardly move. We spent some time ambling around in here and actually bought a few little trinkets.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed a store that specialized in wine. In we went! We purchased a few bottles and took them back to the room with us. Once there, I filled the wastebasket with ice from the ice machine and we were well on our way to chilling the wine for later. All of our hard work done for awhile, time for a siesta.

Upon awakening awhile later, we decided that the wine was chilled enough that we could go down to the outdoor pool/patio area for an early evening snack and game of cards. We decided that we needed a snack to go with the wine so off L went to find some. He returned a short time later with not only snacks, but a corkscrew! We had forgotten all about that! So, with plastic cups, snacks and two bottles of wine in hand, off to the pool we went.

We had a great time, relaxing by the pool, playing cards, watching the sun slowly set and changing the colors of the tiled rooftops and domes clearly visible all around us. While shuffling the cards, L, who had the better view of the mountain range in the distance, suddenly let out an exclamation. We turned to look and sure enough, the volcano, quite some distance away, was erupting! We could see the smoke plumes rising into the air. I ran up to the room to get the binoculars and we then had a very good view of it. No lava, just a lot of smoke. It was exciting to see all the same! Now feeling in very good spirits, we returned all of our junk to the room and headed out for dinner. I stopped just long enough to stuff three plastic bags into my pockets. I had a plan for later!

Puebla is also famous for its’ mole (moe-lay) sauces. The most famous mole sauce is the brown one, made from chocolate. All mole sauces have fresh chilis, smoked jalapeno peppers, peanuts, almonds, cinnamon, aniseed, tomato, onion and garlic among their ingredients. We were headed for the Fonda de Santa Clara, accordingly to the guidebook, one of the better mole restaurants in Puebla. And they were right!

We all ordered enchiladas, but each with a different mole sauce. B opted for the traditional brown, chocolate one; L went with the red, spicy hot one and I went for the green, curry one. Each one was a taste treat! Of course we all sampled each other’s. Three taste sensations for the price of one!

After dinner, we returned to the Alley of the Frogs. We returned to the same bar, sitting outside again. The waiter recognized us from the night before and brought the same drinks we ordered before. I was impressed that he remembered us. He must see hundreds of tourist faces every day. We had a very good time but did not stay very long. This was our last night in Puebla and we were all tired, even though we had had a siesta earlier. Before we left the bar, I pulled out the three plastic bags I had brought along. I gave them to the waiter requesting that he fill them with twelve bottles of Sol Oscuro to go! (I had discovered that the proper name is Oscuro, not negra) He laughed but returned with the bags, four bottles to each one. Clever me, I had brought three so that L and B could assist in carrying them back to the hotel. My mission, to find dark Sol again, which had taken over a year of searching, was now accomplished! I was very pleased and a happy camper as we returned to the hotel, bottles of beer clanking in plastic bags!

Car Trip 31

Up to our room and we all took long, luxurious showers prior to going out for the evening. None of us were really up for a large, restaurant meal. We had stopped at Tlaxcala, outside of Puebla, at McDonald’s. Normally it would not even be on our list of places to stop, but we were starving and wanted something fast. We were already so far behind our schedule.

After discussing our options, we all decided that we weren’t really hungry yet, but we certainly were thirsty! L then led us over to the vast town square, which is bordered on one side by the imposing cathedral and its’ 225' twin towers, the tallest church towers in Mexico.



One side is very similar to Veracruz. There is a block long area of restaurants and coffee shops, all protected by a roof covering the sidewalk. We stopped at one of these restaurants and had a relaxing drink. Afterwards, we walked around the square and surrounding area for awhile, admiring the architecture of downtown. The use of tile was everywhere you looked. Some of the buildings are no less than stunning. (again I am hating the burglar who stole our computers and all my great pictures from this trip.)

After a bit of this, L asked if we were ready for a drink. He may as well have asked if the Pope is Catholic because the answer was a resounding yes! Here we go sounding like alcoholics again! L led us to an area known as Callejon de los Sapos, or Alley of the Frogs. It is an area popular with artists and backpackers. It is a wide pedestrian street with bars and small restaurants lining each side. Each establishment has a line of tables extending outwards towards the middle of the street. Music blares from each one and it is at times a cacophony of sound. L led us to his favorite one, who knows the name. They are all so similar. But I was in for a surprise. L has heard the story of my search for Sol Negra many times. He knew that this particular bar sold it! I was in heaven, getting to drink my favorite beer again to my heart’s content. And beer was two for one! Now what could better! Puebla was becoming more dear to me by the swallow!
We sat there for a quite awhile, observing the moving crowds, watching the various vendors, listening to the music, talking about life and especially the trip so far. All in all, it was a very enjoyable end to what had been a very stressful day!

The next morning, Friday, April 29th, and we went to a Mexican breakfast buffet. They are so interesting. A few things you would expect, like bacon and eggs, but lots of stuff you would not. Like three variations of beans! But the food and coffee were excellent and we left feeling like we had gotten our monies worth.

Our next stop was going to be the one I had been most looking forward to.....the tour of the Uriarte Talavera factory. It is one of the few remaining showrooms that actually still makes the talavera on site. We paid for a tour and waited in the showroom area for our English speaking guide to show up. After about ten minutes, the salesman returned with a very old looking gentleman who was to be our guide. We were delighted beyond belief when he introduced himself as Pablo Uriarte! (I forget his real first name so I just made up Pablo!) The owner and oldest surviving member of the Uriarte family. He had lived in the US, Wisconsin no less, during the 1930's and his English was still very good. He later told us very proudly that he had just turned 86! I hope I am as spry as he was when I am that old!

The tour was more than fascinating. It would have been great under normal circumstances. Getting the tour from the owner allowed us into areas that are not normally open to the public or part of a regular tour. He must have liked us. We got to see the actual forming of the pottery, how the stencils are made and applied and how each piece is painstakingly hand painted, among other areas. At one point he walked over to a little corner area and picked up a tile and paintbrush. He explained that he still likes to paint the occasional tile, just to keep in practice! It takes three months from green pottery to finished product. All still made by hand. No wonder it is so expensive!

We finished the tour, which had taken a lot longer than we expected, and Mr. Uriarte deposited us back in the showroom. What a delightful character he was! I started to shop. It was horrible at first. Almost everything I saw I wanted to buy. By process of elimination, I finally ended up with a few tiles, a coffee mug and a plate. One of the tiles, which we found quite by accident while going through stacks and stacks of them, was actually one hand painted by Mr. Uriarte. Even though it was a bit more costly, we felt we had to have it as a suitable souvenir of the shop and tour. I walked away feeling that my expectations and long anticipation had been well rewarded!

Car Trip 30

As we drove along the divided highway and then normal city streets again, we anxiously scanned cars around us for license plate numbers. We still didn't believe that thief in a police uniform wasn't lying to us. We were almost like ecstatic little boys when we finally started to see plates again that ended in the number 1. We continued on our way and really did not breathe a sigh of relief until we saw the sign that said we were leaving the state of Mexico and entering the state of Hidalgo. Only then did we really feel safe again.

Soon after crossing the border, we spied a PEMEX gas station. These are government owned and run and the only ones in Mexico for that matter. This one had a plaza of sorts attached with restrooms and a small convenience store. We did not need gas but we certainly needed a pee and a rest!

We visited the store and purchased several drinks and snacks and merrily consumed them while leaning against the car in the hot sun. There was now much discussion of what had just happened to us. The whole thing felt like it had been a bad dream. We each had our own version of it and how we felt during it. I wish I could get B and L to write something just about that experience, but I doubt that they ever will. It would be interesting to read what they have to say after this much time has passed. I do know that when we got home, we each privately wrote down what our top ten experiences were on the trip. We actually, without conferring, agreed on 8 out of 10! Of course, this experience was included on everyone’s list!

The three disgruntled and yet happy travelers were back on track. Next stop, Puebla! We were to finally reach it after having driven seven hours out of our way!

I knew we were getting close to Puebla when I started seeing one roadside stand after the other selling Talavera ware. (www.talaveraemporium.com or www.mexicanceramic.com/talavera/talavera1.html) Or at least the knockoff Talavera ware.** I wanted to pull over at all of them but I was met with a series of boos every time I said, "Here’s a good one! Let’s stop and shop!" B and L just wanted to get into town and find a hotel. I just wanted to add to my growing collection of Talavera and Talavera type pots! We were also passing many factories that specialized in tile production. This area is truly the tile producing capital of Mexico!

At long last, we entered Puebla proper. It was hard for me to drive. I was trying to follow L’s directions, watch traffic and gawk at all of the buildings covered in tiles! It was breathtaking.
Puebla proper has a population of 1.3 million people but you would never guess it. I suppose from high on some hill it may look big and sprawled out, but from ground level it was enchanting. The streets were orderly and very well laid out. A welcome change from the crazy quilt streets of Guanajuato! The street sign names all had the logo for VW on them. It seems that they paid for all of the street signs in Puebla and thus got to advertise for free.

L had been to Puebla many times before as a tour leader for various groups so he knew his way around fairly well. He directed me down one particular street and we found a place to park. "From here we will walk and find a hotel," he announced. "They are everywhere around here but there is one in particular we should go look at." It was a hotel that was not really expensive but that was out of the price range of the backpackers he usually led. He had always wanted to check it out. Of course, it was full, so back out to the hot street to regroup. It was now after 6:00 PM, hotter than blazes still and we needed to find a place to stay.

Puebla has a law, and a good one, that every hotel must display a sign out front, visible from any direction, that is white with a big red H on it. All we had to do was stop at a corner and look down the street to see if there were any hotels there! Easy peasy. We looked at a lot of them. Everyone that was in our now $380 less budget was not to our liking. One, that we almost stayed at, trapped us in the elevator during a brief power outage. They did not realize that the elevator had been affected and did not come to our rescue to open the doors until some passerby heard our screams and whimpers coming from within. The stupid elevator had probably been built for only two people and there were four of us crowded into it. Shudder. We looked at the room and, even though it was nice, the elevator experience was just too much for us and we declined. We had had enough bad experiences for one day and did not want to risk another at this hotel.

We walked and we looked. We walked and we looked some more. It took longer than it should have because I kept dawdling behind to take a picture of this beautiful tile building or that storefront or some other tiled thing. Wonderful wrought iron balconies and gates everywhere. L was getting quite dismayed and finally chastised me that we would be sleeping in the car if I did not start to pay attention to the task at hand! With my lower lip almost touching the ground, I dutifully fell in line and looked at an endless array of hotel rooms. There seemed to something wrong with almost everyone of them. It was very strange. First I wouldn’t like something. Then it was B’s turn. Then L’s. I don’t know what was the matter with us. We had never had this kind of a problem locating a room before. And here in Puebla there were just so many to choose from. Maybe that was the problem.

We finally rounded a corner and I spotted a familiar sign on a beautiful old colonial building right in the heart of downtown. Holiday Inn! "Oooh", I said, "Let’s look at a room here!" B and L were dead set against it. This was approaching luxury class, hardly typical Mexican, and we were still very much aware of having just thrown that $380 at those bandits. I insisted that we could at least look so in we went.

Talk about fancy! It was pure opulent luxury everywhere. There was a huge round marble table just as one entered the lobby. On it was a huge glass vase containing at least 100 calla lilies. Impressive in and of itself. We approached the front desk, just a little bit hesitantly. The staff were dressed nicer than we were and I am sure that they smelled better too! But we asked and they showed us a room on the fourth floor. The balcony overlooked the third floor roof pool and garden. Plus there was a great view of Puebla, the magnificent tiled church spires and the hills in the distance. It only had two double beds but one could tell they were going to be comfortable. It was one of those rooms that the toilet was in a separate room from the shower, separated by the sink in between. Heaven. I wanted this room! And I was tired of looking.

The clerk quoted us the price (in very good English) and all hope of staying here was dashed. But then L said something to him in Spanish. I didn’t catch what he said. I was too busy looking around and feeling sorry for myself! Then I heard the clerk quote a price that I thought we could afford. L frowned and said something along the lines that we were just three honest, tired travelers who were in great need right now of something nice in our lives. The clerk grinned, said seeing as how it was low season, he could offer us a special, special rate. He quoted a new price and we took it! I was ecstatic, as I am sure B and L were. Ok, I wasn’t going to tell you, but we ended up paying $80 a night and stayed there for two glorious nights! It was about $30 a night over budget, but well worth it and we needed something like that about then in our lives!

By this time, I had no idea of where we had left the car and was just about to panic. L said, "Just follow me." With that off he headed down the street, took a couple of turns and voila! there was the Pointer right where we had left it! We piled in and drove back to the Holiday Inn, unloaded our backpacks and handed the keys over to the valet parking attendant. I was going to love Puebla!

** for more information on Talavera, see my post today on my other blog. Just click on the link that says Isla Mujeres: Gringo in Paradise

Car Trip 29

The officer reached into the window and discreetly, but eagerly, took the money from L’s hand. He expertly and, with what seemed to me lots of practice, palmed it almost invisibly into his pocket. I hated him at that moment.

He walked away, scaring us even more. He returned after talking to the partner of his from the whole group. The one that had originally approached the window with him. (Since there were eight of them standing in the group, I think they took turns pulling over cars and extorting money from them!) He announced that we should now follow them and they would escort us out of town to the road that led to Pachuca. We gasped. Pachuca was northeast of Mexico City and we were needing to go southeast. We asked if there was another way. One that would put us closer to our route to Puebla. He sternly assured us that there was not. We again were left with no choice. Our simple little drive of 207 miles to Puebla was now going to take us hundreds of miles out of our way!

Next thing I knew, the two officers had pulled up along side of us, one driving and the other as a passenger on a huge motorcycle. Like the kind they rode on that CHIPS television show. He motioned us to follow and pulled out into the traffic. Not looking or caring if I could merge from the curb yet or not. I grit my teeth, quickly glanced in the mirror and popped that clutch! I was not going to loose sight of these two bastards who had just literally robbed us.

Since they were on a motorcycle, and in full uniform, they zigged and zagged their way around and through the traffic with no problem. I, on the other hand, was putting our lives at risk with every lane change and zag I had to do to match their zigs! I had my emergency flashers going but I doubt that anybody paid any attention to them. Mostly L stuck his head and arm out the window and waved at drivers. I think they took one look at these wild Gringos and decided to give us space. It was insane. Yes, they had agreed to lead us out, but they never agreed to do it in a sane, safe manner. Or even to pay attention if we were keeping up with them!

They were about a half a block ahead of me, still in my view, when they suddenly and without warning pulled into a gas station! I had no time to get over and pull in with them. What I could and did do was stop just outside the exit lane and wait for them. They were not there very long, certainly not long enough to get gas, when they suddenly pulled out, merrily waving to us as they passed! My hatred grew. The stress the three of us were experiencing by this point is totally indescribable. Hardly a word was being exchanged in the car. B sat silently in the back seat and L was hanging on for dear life, in between waving frantically for cars to get out of our way, as I continued to cut people off and dodge in and out of traffic. Horns were honking but I did not care. I was not going to loose sight of these creeps.

Shortly after leaving that gas station, a very strange thing happened. The chain came off their motorcycle and went careening down the road! They coasted over to the side of the road and one of them ran out into traffic to retrieve it. I pulled in behind them and we discussed this strange event while waiting. How could the chain come off their bike? This was an official law enforcement vehicle, which to us was synonymous with good upkeep and maintenance. Had the stop at the gas station, where we did not have a clear view of them, just been an opportunity for them to purposely loosen it? Our stress and paranoia was growing.

The original officer came back to the car and announced that they were now disabled and they could no longer lead us! Just as we thought! L told him that he could ride with us in our car. The other officer could fix the bike and pick him up at a pre-arranged spot. Wherever it was that they were leading us. He did not think that was a good idea. Then L told him they should wave down a taxi to lead us. He said ok to this but wanted us to pay for it! L, in an act of outrageous courage, told him no. L told him that he had enough of our money to pay for his own taxi to anywhere in Mexico he wanted to go. Maybe the guy felt guilty. (And maybe I will grow hair again!) Maybe he just admired L for standing up for us. Who knows. At any rate, he agreed to pay for his taxi and hailed one down. They loaded themselves in and off we went again.

The taxi driver was no different than the officers had been on their bike. He paid no attention to where we were at all. I was constantly downshifting, power shifting, lane changing and crawling up his bumper in an attempt to keep up. I came close to having an accident more than once. I vividly remember a car in front of me stopping without my noticing. I was looking in the mirror trying to make a lane change to get behind the taxi. B and L were thrust forward as I slammed on the brakes and literally screeched to a halt. Thank God for seat belts! I quickly recovered, with much, much swearing, and pulled out and around and located the taxi way ahead of us. Foot to the pedal, lots of reckless driving and we caught up again.

At one particular stop light, there was a car between the taxi and us. Sure enough. Out of nowhere we were suddenly surrounded by more of these brown uniformed men. Thankfully, one of the officers from the taxi stuck his head out and yelled something at them. Probably "These suckers are ours!" We were thankful he did this. They could have just left us and driven away when the light changed and our worst fears would have been realized. And we had no more cash (that they knew of) to bribe anybody.

Then suddenly, the taxi took an exit off the freeway. He used no indicator light at all. Just like in the movies, the exit was there and he dashed across a lane of traffic at the last moment to take it. I did the same, safety be damned! During all of this frantic, unsafe, fast and dangerous driving, Bob and L made not a sound. But the adrenalin was pumping! We drove, always at breakneck speed, through several residential areas and we were sure that they were trying to loose us. Good luck with that you thieving pieces of low life in uniform!

Finally and thankfully, they pulled over and the one officer leaned out the window and motioned to us. I warily pulled up beside them. He pointed ahead to a sign that said Pachuca and told us we were on our own. He also, in response to L’s question, told us that we were now well out of the no drive zone. We really did not believe him about that, but what could we do? Without a word of thanks or goodbye to them, I pulled away and got on the ramp of the road leading to Pachuca. To this day I marvel that I was able to drive like I did and to keep up with them. I doubt that I could ever do it again. I think I was driving on pure adrenalin and a hatred fueled power rush.

My scariest moment in Mexico up to this point was having had to drive the Jeep through the forest fire that engulfed the highway in Tabasco while driving down here with Jaimie. That experience of being surrounded by a wall of fire palled in comparison to this. This experience totally took away any thoughts I may have ever had of wanting to visit Mexico City proper. Now I have my own horror story to add to those read about and heard about from others about paying a bribe.

Car Trip 28

Our little band was up and at ‘em, devouring breakfast by 7:30 am. We figured the 207 mile drive would take about four hours. That would leave us plenty of afternoon time in Puebla to find a hotel, do a little exploring, relax and have a nice dinner later.

I, more than anyone else, had been looking forward to Puebla since we put it on our destination plan. I have fallen in love with the ceramic style here called Talavera. Puebla is the home to the factory that originated the process in Mexico. L had already visited it with his tour groups and promised I was going to be impressed. I was almost like Pavlov’s dog every time the name Puebla was mentioned!

We were planning on following MX 57, which is a great freeway system that bisects Mexico from Irapuato to Mexico City. There it changes names and goes around Mexico City to rejoin with MX 150 directly into Puebla. Easy direct route except for a large half circle we had to do around the City proper.

The drive was really nothing exciting. Just a freeway with a bunch of countryside along side it. Not boring, since we were in Mexico after all, but the only major thing of interest was that we passed through the Strawberry Capital of Mexico. I wish I could remember the name. We discussed stopping and buying some preserves or something, but never could quite make up our minds and it was not an easy pull off and over anyway. So on we traveled towards the City, traffic getting heavier and heavier the closer we approached. It started to become more industrialized and populated also.

At this point, one needs to understand a little of the geography of the City. Mexico City proper is immense. It has to be with a population of over 23 million. However, there is also a state called Mexico that rings the northern half of the City. Two different entities. We knew we would be entering the state, just touching the fringe of it as we passed this huge metropolis. At some point, the freeway as we knew it up til then, ended. We were now traveling on city streets. They were four lanes, but unmistakably city streets, complete with stop lights. I pulled to a stop at one in particular and the route signs indicated that I needed to turn right when the light changed in order to continue on around the City. This I did.

Immediately upon making the turn, within the first 20 feet or so, several uniformed and armed police officers jumped into the street in front of us and waved us over to the side. They did not appear to be City police, nor were they Federal. They wore special brown uniforms with some sort of emblem that we did not recognize. I think they may have been special transit or traffic police. I pulled to the curb, with L in his usual passenger seat position as navigator. Two of the officers approached the passenger side, which was also the curb side, and began to talk very sternly to us. I, of course, had no idea what they were saying. We asked them if they spoke English, but they said no. Our plan of not speaking Spanish to anybody in authority unless we had to was dashed again. So from that point on L had the horrible task of translating to us and back to them.

They explained to us that we had just crossed into the no drive zone and would now have our car impounded, have to pay a fine of 6800 pesos ($630), would have to spend the night in the City and go to court the next day and meet with a Judge. He would decide if and when we got our car back and if we had to pay any additional fines. We were shocked to say the least. We had no idea that we had crossed some magical border. There had been no signs to indicate that a no drive zone was approaching or anything like that. Since we were just barely, barely into the zone, we told the officers that we would back up, turn around or do anything else needed to just turn around and leave the zone without driving any further into it. L explained that we were just dumb tourists trying to get to Puebla and evidently had made a wrong turn. We had no intention of even going to Mexico City. We were not allowed to leave. Once into the zone, once into the zone. You had to deal with it. At this point the officers returned to the pack they had come from, leaving us alone for a few minutes to ponder our situation. We were frightened, to say the least.

No way did we want to have to fork over $630 of our dwindling budget, spend the extra money for a hotel somewhere in Mexico City or spend the extra time there. We were also frightened of what the Judge would do. He could easily, in this loose system of justice down here, levy another fine against us. Plus we would have impound fees of an unknown amount to deal with later. L suggested, and we concurred, that they had left us alone to give us the time to come up with the idea of paying a "mordita", or little bribe, on our own without them having to suggest it to us. I had sworn to myself that while living in Mexico I would never pay a bribe unless it was a matter of life or death....like to avoid going to jail to become some macho man’s senorita!! However, we unanimously agreed that we would see if we could buy, coax, cry, or plead our way out of this and be on our way. At once, we all emptied all but the most minimal amount of cash from our wallets and hid it in various places within the car. We did not think that they would be searching the car, that was not their purpose.

When the officer reappeared, L explained that we were on the last part of our trip and that we had very little money left with us. But was there some way we could pay part of the fine to them directly and be on our way. Paying and negotiating a bribe is a very delicate thing. We mentioned an amount that we thought we could pay, I think it was $100. He immediately said no and restated the full figure of $630. (remember that we were really talking in pesos but I have changed it to dollars so you can understand how great the amount was) We all then pulled out our wallets and started passing money to L, in full view of the officer so that he could see how much we had. We came up with about $180. He still said no. So we gave L the remaining bits of money we had, everything. Every dollar, every peso. We showed the officer that our wallets were truly now empty. I think it came up to about $280 by that point. He said he would take $500 and let us go. We told him that we did not have it. He said that we were Americans and he would take us to a cash machine and we could just withdraw the difference and give it to him! L quickly corrected him that he was British and also told him that we did not have cash cards. We did all of our banking on Isla Mujeres and had only brought cash with us for fear of being robbed and having our credit cards or bank cards stolen. With that, the officer returned to the mob of other officers and left us to stew.

He returned shortly and told us that we should follow him. He would take us to the impound lot where we could get a taxi and go wherever we wanted until the next day when we had to appear in court. That made us almost frantic. We all reached into our pockets and withdrew the money we had stashed there and came up with another $100. That made the total $380. And he accepted it! L, bless his quick thinking heart, added a caveat to the deal before turning the money over. He reminded the officer that he was not only an officer of the law of Mexico, but also, being a Mexican citizen, he had a history of honor in his blood. (or words to that effect. Everything down here is so much more flowery and indirect) L told him that before we would actually give him the money, we expected to receive his oath of honor that they would stay with us and direct and guide us out of this zone. We wanted them to do this because otherwise right down the block we could get pulled over again and have to go through the same thing again. He kind of puffed out his chest and said he was indeed a man of his word and would be pleased to escort us. We all breathed a small sigh of relief.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Car Trip 27

Our next stop was the building known as la Alhondiga de Granaditas. This was originally a grain storage building but its’ importance to history is that it is where the first strike for Mexican independence occurred. The building was commandeered by the Spaniards as their headquarters. The building was attacked by 20,000 rebels, led by Miguel Hidalgo, on September 28, 1810. It looked like the Spaniards would hold out and win until Hidalgo came up with the clever idea of strapping a large stone on the back of one his men. (the aforementioned hero, El Pipila) Using the stone as a shield against the Spanish bullets, he was able to set the wooden gates ablaze, thus allowing entrance to the 20,000 rebels. The rebels were much later, and in a different battle, defeated. In a most interesting event, the heads of the four leaders of the revolt were displayed in large birdlike cages, one hanging from each of the four corners of the building. One can still see the hooks high up on the corners of the buildings where the heads hung. The actual cages, minus the heads of course, are on display inside. The building itself is riddled with bullet holes. It is not difficult at all to stand there and imagine what had happened. Not being Mexican, I really had never taken a great interest in Mexican history prior to this. I found the whole experience fascinating, educational and totally real.

Enough culture. We were thirsty and hungry. Back to our hotel to clean up for dinner and to verify that L had a clean place to lay his head that night. All spruced up in clean shirts and our best flip flops, L led us to a square popular with backpackers and students. We had a lovely time sitting at an outdoor cafe, watching people come and go, eating a small, leisurely dinner and drinking tons of dark draft beer. We finally stumbled our way back towards the hotel, but, it seemed like it had been such a long time since we had eaten, we were all hungry again. What should we spy but another OXXO and decided roller dogs were just what we needed. In we went and B and L both got one and piled on every fixing they offered! I decided that I needed something sweet and opted for three different candy bars instead! Nobody can say we don’t know how to live!

one of the many parks scattered around Guanajuato

Wednesday, April 27, and we woke up none the less for wear. I was dying to ask L if he had dreamt of nose picking all night, but I just didn’t dare! We were planning on only one more stop here before heading out again to our next destination. A quick breakfast and on to the Museo Iconografico del Quijote. This is the museum devoted to Don Quixote. I never did quite understand why he is such an important character to this city or why they even have a festival every year devoted to it.

I must admit that I thought it was going to be deadly dull, a whole museum devoted to one fictional character. I mean really, can you imagine a museum devoted to Donald Duck or Charlie Brown? I was pleasantly surprised at how interesting it turned out to be. There was nothing really about the story of Don Quixote, or Cervantes for that matter. It was nothing but various artists renditions of Don Quixote and Pancho. Everything from room size murals to the tiniest painting on an eggshell. We decided that since this really was one of the classics of literature, we should read it someday. (Note: L did order the book and we have all now made an attempt to drag ourselves through the pages of it. B has currently taken possession of it. He uses one chapter a night as a sleeping pill! I liked the museum better and will just settle for that!)

the famous "kissing alley"

We left Guanajuato and its’ muscle-wearying hills behind about mid-morning. It was a quick 3.5 hour drive at 80 mph to our next stop, Queretaro. This was not originally a scheduled stop but we decided to make it a one night layover because Puebla, or next big city, was just too far to reach in one day from Guanajuato.

Queretaro is a nice enough city. Another town in Mexico steeped in history, great architecture and fabulous restaurants. We really did not do much here but try to relax and get ready for the strenuous drive and day ahead of us tomorrow. The one thing that did impress me there was the number of fountains. They seemed to be in every plaza and green space we passed. It was really quite refreshing and the detail on some of them was incredible. Also, Queretaro has so many historically significant places, UNESCO has designated an official walking route within the city. They have actually put signs in the sidewalk directing you from one site to the next, each one numbered for easy reference on most city maps.

Back in the hotel that night we spread the maps and guidebooks out on the bed as usual. The night before leaving a city we would make sure that we all knew the route we would be taking to our next destination. We always tried to have the quickest, easiest, fastest route laid out before we actually put a foot to the pedal. Our route to Puebla was only to cover 207 miles and should have taken only one morning, since most of it was freeway.

We were a little worried about getting around Mexico City, but since we had no plans to go into the city itself, it was not a really big concern. The population of Mexico City is 23 million people, making it the largest city in the world. To put that in perspective, that means that 1 out of every 260 people in the world live in Mexico City! We thought we might encounter some traffic there, thus slowing us down, but nothing major. One little nagging question we had was about the driving ban there.

Mexico City proper has a driving ban, due to the heavy smog and pollution. One day a week, depending upon the last digit of your license plate, you are banned from driving your car in the City. Just to be safe, I ran down to look at my plate so we could look it up on the chart. Wouldn’t you know it. My plate ends in the number 1 and that is the number banned on Thursdays, the day we were going to go around Mexico City. We were really glad that we had no plans to go into or see the city itself. We would be touching on the rim of the State of Mexico but not the City. Our Lonely Planet assured us that the driving ban was enforced only in Mexico City itself. With that, off to bed we went.

Car Trip 26

We said goodbye to the city of Zacatecas and headed out for our next stop. The lovely colonial city of Guanajuato. Our route carried us southeast, passing through the highly industrialized outskirts of San Luis Potosi. We skirted around Leon and finally arrived in Guanajuato itself.
Guanajuato is another town that L had been to many times before. Thankfully, because the streets were incredibly difficult to navigate. They are narrow beyond belief and there is no rhyme or reason to them. One interesting fact about their roads though is that they have an entire network of underground highways under the city. They built these on an old underground river bed which was diverted because it used to flood the town so often. We drove around and around, stopping at this hotel and that and finding nothing suitable. Finally L directed me to pull into this alley like street. Which I did.


one of the underground highways

It was another one of those twisting little alleys and I stopped almost at the mouth of it and let L and B get out to check a couple of hotels located right there. From where I was (illegally) parked, I could not see around the corner just in front of me. And it was a one way street with me parked in the wrong direction! So while I nervously waiting for them to return, I noticed that B had left his pack of cigarettes in the car. Ok then. This counted as a stressful enough time to go ahead and sneak just one. I was blissfully puffing away on it when B suddenly appeared at my window and told me I had to get out. It seems that they had found a room but wanted me to check it out before registering.

No way did I want to get out. I could feel that I was light headed from just that one cigarette. But I had no choice. I reluctantly gave up my position in the car to B and literally staggered across the street to the hotel. I was so dizzy I could hardly stand up, let alone walk straight. What a buzz! I made it to the lobby and the waiting L and followed him to the room. I only had to just barely step into the room to pronounce it unsatisfactory. It was a pit. I got the evil eye from L but he acquiesced and followed me back to the car. It was then that we decided to check out the hotel right in front of us.

This room was more than adequate. It had a great view of the houses on the hills, a little park down the street and it had three beds! Whoopee! We each got to have our own bed! Quite the luxury. And they had off-street parking. Granted, it was underground and was quite the pain in the behind to muster the car into it, but off-street parking nonetheless.

We carried our luggage to the room and dropped it all on the floor. At that point L started to hop from bed to bed. Sort of like in the Three Bears story. Finally he ensconced himself on the middle one and proclaimed that one to be the most comfortable and his, his, and his alone! Fine. B and I each just chose one of the two remaining. As we were rummaging through our backpacks, we heard this shriek coming from L.

He had decided to pull back the coverlet and have himself a little rest before we headed out to lunch. When he exposed the pillow to daylight, he also exposed all the boogers that somebody had wiped on it also! I mean it was covered. Not just one, but like a whole weeks’ worth all smeared on it. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes and my stomach hurt. The more L gagged, the more I laughed. Between my fits of laughter I managed to let him know that he got exactly what he deserved for his “I got the best bed, na na na na” attitude. He threw the coverlet back up over the offending pillow and we got ready for lunch. But not until I also pointed out to him that the wall just above where his head would rest was also similarly decorated to the pillow! Again I am convulsing with laughter!

Needless to say, on our way through the lobby, L stopped at the front desk. He was not a happy camper and let them know it. They promised that we would all three have fresh linens when we returned. And we did.

L took us to a little café directly across from the steps of the University and we had a great lunch. One of those Comida del Dia things that has a set menu. I wanted to tell L that he had better be sure to check his plate before he ate off of it, but I held my tongue. I don’t think he would have appreciated it. Lunch over, we set out to see some of the sights of Guanajuato.

Car Trip 25

Our next stop was the Museo Rafael Coronel. This museum houses a fine collection of Mexican folk art. It is located in the ruins of a 16th century convent. The majority of the pieces here, including over 2000 masks, were collected and assembled by Rafael Coronel, the son-in-law of Diego Rivera, perhaps Mexicos’ most well known muralist.

Although the museum also houses pottery, puppets, pre-Hispanic objects and sketches and drawings by Diego Rivera, the highlight is the masks. Definitely the masks. With over 2000 of them from various parts of Mexico to look at, one is quickly a victim of mask overdose. By the time the multitude of mask rooms is completed, one couldn’t give a flying fig newton if one ever sees a mask in ones’ life again! Sort of the same feeling you get if you try to see everything there is to see at the museum at House on the Rock in Wisconsin. (I get queasy just remembering that!)

Anyway, we finished that museum and made our way back downtown to visit the art museum that was high on B’s list. Unfortunately for him (but fortunate for me as I was tired in general and tired of museums specifically at this point), it being Sunday, the museum was closed. After a peaceful little lunch, we headed back to our new hotel for a much needed siesta.

the great hall attached to the museum. Do you see me?

We had scoped out a different hotel yesterday and moved there pronto Sunday morning. It was a great room and less than half of what we paid at the first pompous-with-no-reason-to-think-so first one we stayed at. It was at the back of the hotel and was a large room with a double bed, desk and two walls lined with little shelves for sitting or piling crap on top of, depending upon your level of organization. This room had a doorway in the wall opposite the entrance that took two giant steps down to another room that was a giant rectangle. This room had a single bed. At the end of this room was the bathroom. Honestly, it took several minutes to get from the entrance to the bathroom door! It was a fun room and finally afforded some bathroom privacy away from the main sleeping area! The only drawback to this room was that it was on the top floor of a 4 story walk up!

Having eaten such a late lunch, we decided to have our own private little cocktail party on the rooftop garden area just outside our room before heading off to taste the culinary delights of Zacatecas. L made a shopping expedition while B and I showered. He came back with cold beer for me and the fixings for sangria for himself and B. Quite clever I thought. Drinks in one hand and smokes and snacks in the other, we headed out to the garden and sat back and prepared for a relaxing few moments before heading out. After just a few sips, across the garden comes the manager. It seems somebody snitched on us. We were not allowed to drink in public, not even on this private rooftop terrace! So we had to grab all of our stuff and retire to our room, amid much grumbling. No matter. We finished our drinks and left to find dinner.

We scoured the city from one end to the other and just could not decide on a suitable restaurant for dinner. Either because we had already eaten at the ones we wanted to try, for lunch or dinner already, or maybe because we had stuffed ourselves on chips and crap during our little cocktail party. At any rate, we ended up getting roller dogs at the local OXXO convenience store and some other snacks and making an early night of it. Not exactly haute cuisine, but it satisfied us.

We made up for it on Monday night though. We found the best, seemingly undiscovered restaurant, behind a little wooden door on a side street. Once inside, it was huge and delightfully decorated in old fashioned Mexican motif. One could almost say antiques. Lots of stuff everywhere to delight and interest the eye. The service was fantastic, as was the food. The free hors de oeuvre was interesting. It was a platter of deep fried pig skin, with a very hot sauce to break off pieces and dip into. Sounds slightly disgusting, but it was delicious, especially with a frosty mug of beer at hand! Best of all, we had the waiter all to ourselves since we were the only ones dining there! It was called El Refugio and I would highly recommend it.

Earlier that day, in fact most of the day Monday, had been spent visiting places of architectural interest and a few smaller museums. We did a little side trip about an hours drive out of town. It was to the ruins of La Quemada. These sit high on a hill overlooking a wide broad valley as far as the eye can see. There is much conjecture as to who exactly inhabited them. Some think the Aztecs, some think it was part of a major trade route. Either way, they are perhaps the most interesting ruins I have yet visited in Mexico. We explored almost every nook and cranny except the furthest building, which was also on the highest peak!

We knew we had a good time because we all hated to leave, but our next adventure was calling and we were ready to face it. So back to Zacatecas, the aforementioned dinner and straight to bed to rest for our journey tomorrow. It was a wonderful, fun filled, but slightly exhausting final day in Zacatecas.