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.

Car Trip 24

Upon awakening Sunday morning, the three adventurers decided that a hearty breakfast would be in order. Today was the day we were going to tackle many of the sites and adventures of the city. Our first stop was to be a tour of the old silver mine.

Located on the outskirts of town, Mina El Eden (Eden mine) is no longer operating, having been closed down in the 1950's. It was once one of Mexico’s richest silver mines and consists of seven levels. Level 4 is the only one left open for visitors. The levels below it are flooded. To get to it, we drove the car and parked as close as we could and walked to the entrance to the mine. There we were greeted by a pleasant, chubby Mexican lady, dressed in her finest blue jeans, t-shirt and the Mexican version of Bierkenstocks. I imagine that her hair was cut so very short to keep her head cool while wearing the compulsory hard hat on the tours. Although she did not speak a word of English, it turns out that we probably got one of the best and most minely educated tour guides around. I know this because I did understand quite a bit of what she had to say (since she tried to speak so that B and I, the only two non-Spanish speaking people on the tour could understand) and because L interpreted a lot of it as we walked along, obedient puppies to our master.

The first thing she did was to hand us paper hair nets, very, very, in fact too very similar, to those worn by people in the kitchens of the fast food industry. We had to don these and then put on our hard hats over them. I think the word dork about sums up the way everyone looked in these things. No matter, everyone had to wear them. A family on the tour with us very kindly offered to take our photos wearing these mining fashion statements. Needless to say, none of you will ever see this picture!

After we were all safely under our hard hats, we boarded a little train that was to take us deep into the mine where we would start our tour. And when I say little, I do mean little. It was like something you would find at a kiddie carnival. It was so small and cramped, due to the size of the mine tunnels, L and I were forced to sit on the floor to avoid hitting our heads on the roof. B scrunched low in the seat and tried to maintain his dignity by staying off the floor. I guess he forgot what he looked like in that hat because our dignity had long since been left behind! The little trained pulled out and we were immediately plunged into a world of dank darkness, lit only by the occasional light on the tunnel ceiling. After a brief journey, we emerged into a hall of sorts and all rolled out of the train and gathered around our guide for our introduction to the ways of the mine.

We were given a history of the mine and shown examples in the walls and ceiling of silver, gold, iron, copper and zinc. All of these were mined here and we did get a quiz on this as we went along! The mine, and its’ history, was another fascinating bit of Mexican history. Again, the Spanish influence and control was incredible. Indigenous people were enslaved and forced to work the mines, with as many as five a day dying from the horrific conditions. The mine had been put together now with models of "people" doing various jobs, picking at the walls, carrying baskets of ore from one level to another. And they did not have ladders. They used logs with notches cut out as steps. One slip..... As each basket of ore was filled, and they were large baskets, each miner had to transport it to the surface and unload it. For this he was given a handful of rice as payment and sent right back down.

Every once in a while, the mine level we were on opened up so that you could see down to the some of the other levels. It looked like an underground river was going on down there. Also, where openings had been in the floor for the miners to ascend or descend from level to level, they were now covered over with clear plexiglass. It was a trip walking over these and looking straight down into an instant, freezing cold watery death if the plexiglass ever gave way. Shudder the thought!
We finally emerged at the other end of the tunnel, thanked and tipped our very knowledgeable and fun guide and walked the rest of the way out of the shaft and back into the bright sunlight of Zacatecas.

Our next stop was only a few feet away. We were going to board a cable car and be taken to the top of Cerro de la Bufa, the large hill that dominates the landscape of Zacatecas. We were looking forward to this ride, but a little scared of it too.

We patiently waited our turn and were finally loaded onto the cable car and began our ascent to the mountain. We traveled above the city, its' houses and streets and they became smaller and smaller underneath us. The view from the car was fantastic. Everywhere were buildings stretching out and filling every available inch of space between the two mountain ranges bordering the city. Past the mountains, we could see way out into the desert again. It was great. And the car did very little, if any, swinging. I was hoping for a lot of sway, just to make things a little more fun and dangerous feeling. And besides, I could enjoy this swaying without B yelling at me like he did on the suspended bridge at Salto de Eyipantla. But Alas, there was no swaying and the ride only lasted seven minutes.

The view from the top was great. To get to the top was another story. The first thing you encounter getting off the cable car is a great plaza like area with three large statues of men on horses. These are the three great heros of Zacatecan history, Pancho Villa, Angeles and Panfilo Natera. They led the revolution that freed Zacatecas from the Spaniards, and indeed, later all of Mexico. From this plaza, a wide cobblestoned pathway winds it way around the top of the hill to the summit. Again, more climbing, a lot gentler incline but uphill again all the same!

After enjoying the views in all directions on this bright, sun filled day, we decided to take our leave of Cerro de la Bufa and head out for our other adventures. We took the cable car back down to the mine entrance. From there we walked back down the mountain. We took the stairs down to street level, no easy task as they were very steep and plentiful! Upon finally reaching the bottom and street level again, we checked the car out of the lot and headed for our next stop, an art museum that was high on B’s list of things to do.

Car Trip 23

The first place we checked was the hotel I had parked in front of. A rather grand, pompous looking affair. The prices weren’t as bad as we expected but the rooms were definitely not as nice as the prices would have one believe! We decided to have a little look see and investigate some others as well. We especially wanted to check out the one directly across the street. This was listed in our Lonely Planet and sounded interesting. Unfortunately, the standards of the reviewer were just a bit lower than mine. After looking at a couple of well travel worn rooms, we decided to give it a pass. We looked at one more hotel and decided that for just one night, the first hotel would be fine. The most expensive one of course! We threw our stuff in the room and headed out to see what Zacatecas had to offer on a Saturday night.

We had agreed that finding a nice little place for a calm, relaxed drink would be our first order of business. Off the main street and up a side street, we saw umbrellas in front of a little Italian restaurant and decided it was just the place we needed. With L leading the way, since it was another uphill battle for B and I, we reached our goal and, with huge sighs of contentment, plopped ourselves down at one of the tables. Then we waited. And waited. And waited a little more. Just as we were deciding that maybe we needed to find a place that actually waited on its’ customers, out through the door came the waiter. The disappointment, or rather disgust, on his face was easy to read when he discovered that here were three rich gringos (read BIG TIP) sitting at his table and all we wanted was two beers and a Margarita on the Rocks. He sulkily took our order, snatched the menus back and disappeared. Needless to say, he was not to swift in returning with the drinks. Never mind though, he eventually did bring them and we had a very nice time. Just chilling from another long day’s drive and gathering our strength and making plans for the night and next few days.

Drinks done, we decided to walk up main street at least as far as the great cathedral and find a place for dinner. The cathedral here is something to behold. The guidebook describes it as the ultimate expression of Mexican Baroque and they are certainly correct! Keeping in mind that in its’ heyday Zacatecas was one of the richest cities in Mexico, due to the silver mines, the builders of this cathedral spared no expense in making it as grand and gaudy as possible. The entire main facade, which faces the main street, is an elaborate series of sculptures. It tells the story of the tabernacle, from top to bottom. It is three stories tall and there are a lot of statues clinging to its’ surface, including all 12 apostles. The whole thing is shrouded in a fine mesh, to protect it from tons of pigeon poop that would otherwise be deposited there. Without the guidebook telling me where to look for what, I would never have been able to decipher what was going on, it was just too full of figures, squiggles, curves and other adornments. Very interesting to look at though.

Since Zacatecas is built in the valley between two mountain ranges, it, too, is full of sloping streets. Not exactly hills, but long inclines from the start of town to where it ends at Cerro de la Bufa, the rock topped hill that dominates the landscape. Next to the Cathedral, a set of wide steps leads down to the next parallel street. The steps first deposit you onto a broad plaza. While we were there this plaza was the sight of concerts. People line the walkway on one side and look down and also use the steps themselves as makeshift bleachers. All in all, a wonderful place to absorb some culture! On this particular Saturday night, it was a very large orchestra performing. And they had an interesting choice of music, I thought. No Mozart, no Beethoven for them. Nope. It was Glenn Miller all the way! With the strains of 1940's big band music ringing in our ears, we left the plaza behind and headed back down the main street to a restaurant we had spied earlier.

The restaurant was off to the side and in back of a wonderful tiled courtyard inside one of the buildings whose doorways opened on to the main street. We discovered that the courtyard was used by a little coffee shop as their seating area. We would return here later in the trip for a much needed espresso! The restaurant itself was decorated a bit too much as a Mexican theme park for my taste. Lots of sombreros and paintings of "typical" Mexican scenes and themes. Lots of color but a little too dimly lit. But the food was excellent. I had recently discovered a soup like dish called Pozole and was ecstatic to discovered that they offered both the red and green varieties here. Decision made in an instant. Green Pozole (the hot one!) for me!
Dinner over, we headed out to find someplace to have a nightcap. This was not as easy as we had thought. I was again amazed to discover that once outside the tourist areas, there are really not that many bars or places to go to that serve alcohol. There are a few large, disco type bars around, but we are getting a bit long in the tooth to enjoy this kind of racket every night. What we wanted was just a small, maybe quaint, bar where we could have a quiet nightcap and head off to a much needed good nights’ sleep. We had almost given up when we stumbled upon exactly the kind of place we were looking for. We each had a drink and made our way back to our hotel and fell into bed. Exhausted but happy. We were sure we were going to have a good time exploring Zacatecas and partaking of its’ various sites and attraction. Sunday was going to be a busy beaver type day for us!

Car Trip 22

True to ourselves, we pulled out of Xilitla at exactly 7:45 am on Saturday morning. I could not help but think back to our trip to Akil with Juan and his family and how different this trip was. Not only from the obvious that we were traveling a lot and seeing different things, but also from the perspective that we got up and going when we had things to do. No pokey mornings for us!
Our next stop was to be Zacatecas, about 320 miles northwest of Xilitla through the Sierra Gordos. We would be climbing from an elevation of 3250 feet to about 7900 feet. Even though this is high, it is still mostly arid high desert.

We were really looking forward to this city. It is one of the original silver producing cities conquered and controlled by the Spanish. It still has a huge, non-working silver mine which can be visited. The city itself is a giant sprawl located between two mountain ranges, Cerro de la Bufa and Cerro del Grillo. From our research, it sounded like it was going to be one interesting city.

Our journey to get to it took us through some very interesting country. The route was a maze of switchbacks, up and then down mountain roads. I have probably said this too much already, but the scenery is gorgeous in the mountains. I have seen the Appalachias, the Rockies, the Smoky Mountains, the Porcupine mountains of upper Michigan and the Alps. Of course, all of these mountain ranges are totally different, but, except for the Alps, and to a lesser degree the Rockies, the mountains in central Mexico have the most interesting scenery. We eventually seemed to leave the mountains behind. In truth, we had just leveled off onto one great high desert upland region.

After about an hour or so of driving, we entered into the state of Querretero. This was our eighth of fifteen Mexican states that we would pass through on this trip. There are a total of 31 states here, including Mexico City as its’ own state. (much like DC is its’ own entity). We stopped at a little restaurant where the main street twisted its’ way up, around and through the town. The restaurant we chose, of course, was at the top of a hill and we had to negotiate more steps to get to it. I really am tempted at times to rename this the adventure of the stairs and hills due to all of them that we had to contend with on the trip! It was a nice enough restaurant with a wall of windows on the front that looked out onto a wooden balcony that ran the length of the building. We had an excellent view and across the street and below us was a local travelling carnival that had set up. I secretly wished that it was open and operating. I love carnivals, but that’s another story!

We ordered what we thought was a simple breakfast; fruit, juice, coffee and eggs. The waitress acted like we had ordered something that had to be shipped in from Mars, even though we had chosen a breakfast listed on their menu! But off she went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of chopped fruit for each of us. Then we waited. And waited. At least the wait gave me time to look at the decor of the restaurant. The walls were decorated with family photos, evidently from the owners family. One man in particular, probably the patriarch, dominated most of them. I found the wedding pictures of his various children fascinating. All of you are probably familiar with the traditional dress of Querretero, you probably just don’t know it comes from this region. And what is that? The giant, spangle and sparkle covered sombrero! The one you see for sale in all of the tourist shops and occasionally even see on an airplane as some tourist realizes that it is too big and tries to stuff it into the overhead compartment.

At any rate, all of the men in the pictures were proudly wearing them. And, I must say, they did not look out of place or silly on them. Maybe because there was usually a horse in the picture too? I particularly liked one picture where the bride was side saddle on her horse with the groom beside her on the ground, holding the horse and with his hat proudly in his hand. This was taken in a corn field, with stubble all around, but the church where they were married is visible in the background. Of course I am supposing this, but every picture tells a story, right?!

Back to breakfast. She eventually brought us all of our food, but in courses and at different times. B would get his juice, I would get a plate of tortillas and L would get his eggs, so on and so on. It was exasperating but amusing at the same time. What was not funny was that the last course served to us was the coffee! The one thing we so desperately needed and wanted as the first course! And when it came, it was undrinkable. I do not know, and after thinking about it a long time, I still cannot figure out what they did to it. It tasted like it had been brewed with fuel oil instead of water. Or maybe they had stored fuel oil in the coffee pot? At any rate, it was horrible and we left it sit. Maybe a Coke somewhere down the line would soothe my caffeine craving.

Back onto the road where more mountains and vistas awaited us. We made our way through the endless industrialized, sprawling expense of San Luis Potosi and came out the other side to be met by miles of cactus strewn desert. I love the high desert with its' vast open areas covered by all sorts of interesting cacti.

In the distance were great mesas, like giant flat top fists rising out of the ground. The whole area was like driving through an American western movie. Here and there the land was divided up into quadrants by rock walls. It must have taken hours and hours of back breaking human labor to build these walls. And they were all straight. They did not wobble or zigzag unless they did so intentionally to go around some object.

Just outside of Zacatecas we stopped at a rest/gas/truck stop to refuel the car and our parched throats. I left the convenience store and was standing outside by the car when a young boy came out of the store and approached me. In perfect English, he asked me if I was an American. I told him yes. "When are you going back to the States?" he asked, in perfect English. I told him I live in Mexico and it would not be for a very long time. Then he informed me that he was 10 years old and hated Mexico. He was looking for an American that would give him a ride back to Los Angeles! About then B, L and the boy’s father all came out of the store. His father was the clerk. The father informed us that they had just moved here from Los Angeles, where the boy had been born. The father was originally from the area and had returned to this area to care for his elderly parents. The boy considered himself an American, not a Mexican and hated everything about where he was. He desperately wanted to return to the life he knew and the only one that he had known until his father uprooted him and brought him here. I really felt sorry for him. Even though he spoke Spanish, it had to be very hard for him. They were still miles and miles from any town and stuck out here at this truck stop in the desert. Probably nothing for the kid to do all day but feel sorry for himself and practice hating his father more for bringing him here. It was a rather upsetting encounter to have. We left with the boy standing there watching us drive away. I can only imagine what must have been going through his mind.

I quickly forgot about him since just down the road we encountered our eleventh military check point. This one appeared to be much more serious than the little one we had passed in Tabasco, or any other point for that matter. There were lots of machine-gun toting soldiers everywhere and the checkpoint was very well organized and divided up into little areas. There was no way we were going to just get waved through this one! But we did get waved at....by the machine guns! They directed us off the road and onto a side road that led to a little hut with even more soldiers standing around. The whole place was quite foreboding and scary. I cautioned L to keep silent, thinking that if they did not speak English, and we did not speak Spanish, the frustration would quickly build and we would be on our way, leaving exasperated soldiers behind. I was wrong though. They did speak Spanish only but made it quite clear that we were to shut off the engine, get out of the car and wait over there while they inspected it. I was terrified. There was no way I was going to be allowed near enough to the car to watch them to make sure they did not plant anything in it. Visions of Mexican jails and being somebody’s senorita danced through my head. And it was not a good dance! We acted like we did not totally understand what they wanted us to do and stood close enough to the car to sort of see what they were doing. Actually, in retrospect, it was interesting to watch. They looked in places that I did not even know existed in my car! They even lifted the rubber protector that goes around the base of the gear shift knob and searched way down in there. Strangely, though, even though they made me pop the hood, they did not request to look in the trunk! Maybe too obvious? The inspection finished, they waved us back into the car and allowed us to pass. I hoped that this would be our last checkpoint, knowing full well that it probably would not be. I also hoped that this would be the scariest moment of the trip for me. And it was, until we got to Mexico City!

Safely back on the road, we could see the mountain range ahead of us that housed Zacatecas. It looked so close but we knew it was still a couple of hours away. We did stop at one spot along the road and got some great pictures of the buttes, mesas and very unusual cacti in the area. One in particular looked like a tree until you looked at it closely and discovered the branches actually ended in true cactus plants. Strange tree indeed.

We entered the outskirts of Zacatecas with L skillfully navigating. Unfortunately, Mexico had once again forgotten to skillfully mark the streets with any kind of signage! But, with L’s Spanish and a few stops for directions, we found our way into downtown proper and located the hotel district where we wanted to stay. I found a place to park and we were off on our trek to find suitable (affordable!!) lodging for the three nights we were to be here.

Car Trip 21

SPECIAL NOTE TODAY: This is a picture heavy post so I have placed all of the pictures after the text. I highly recommend enlarging them to see the extraordinary detail of this amazing place called Las Pozas. All of the pictures today were taken by L.

The next morning, which was Friday, April 22nd, found me awake and up and about by 7:00 am. Not all that unusual for me. Especially here since I had not had a restful night at all. Besides not getting enough sleep, I woke up a bit cranky, knowing that we had no coffee pot in the room and that there was no restaurant involved with our hotel. How, then, to get coffee? Only one way to find out! Get my butt up those stairs and find a restaurant that had coffee to go. I decided to stop at the office (which also appeared to be the home of the manageress) on the way out and ask her advice. Surely she would know where I could get three cups of coffee in this town. As it turns out, she certainly did! She graciously offered to make a pot for us and would let me know when it was done. In the meantime, she had enough coffee from her own morning breakfast to give me a cup while I waited! I acted like I didn’t want her to bother, but I was very glad that she insisted and "forced" me to accept her hospitality! I gleefully sat down at one of the garden tables and sipped my coffee, had a smoke and watched the fog clear from the mountains around me as I waited for her to make another pot. I think B and L were very surprised to have me reappear at the room door carrying a tray with fresh coffee and china cups! I thought that my resourcefulness and willingness to be the "food gatherer" should be rewarded by them waiting on me hand and foot for the rest of the day. They had other thoughts about that!

We were finally all ready and loaded ourselves into the car to make the 1.5 mile drive back down and around the mountain road to the entrance to Las Pozas. We located the little gravel road with no trouble, drove for a bit to the entrance, parked and paid our admission. After just a quick look around, L very wisely decided that we had better buy one of the site maps to assist us in finding our way. This place is huge and consists of many trails, sidewalks and staircases winding their way around and through this section of the rain forest. It is famous for its’ staircases that wind their way up and up and lead to nowhere. They just end and you have to turn around and go back. And they don’t even especially end at anything exciting, like a great view or a waterfall or a snack bar or something. The place is full of swimming holes, waterfalls, cement buildings, pavillions, zigzagging staircases and pathways, cement sculptures, dead ends and breathtaking beauty. We spent six hours there and enjoyed every second. We all unanimously decided later that it was definitely one of the trip’ highlights and someplace we would visit again.

Unfortunately, the literature about this place tells us that Sir Edward James died in 1984 and left no provision in his will to maintain this place. As a result, the jungle is quickly taking over and the heat and humidity of a rain forest is taking its’ toll. A lot of the concrete is crumbling, rusty reinforcing rod is poking through in the most unexpected of places and the pathways are getting grown over and becoming hard to negotiate. It is fast becoming eaten up by the rain forest and is in real danger of disappearing totally. What a shame if that were to happen. This is one of the most bizarre, but fascinating, places I have ever seen and I would hate to think of it lost to future viewers.

We returned to town and had lunch at a local pizzeria. Much more enjoyable than the dinner the night before! Lunch was almost a somber affair. I think we were all lost in thought over what we had just seen and experienced. Eventually we started to discuss it though. I think we all first had to really digest the craziness in our minds and sort it out before we could really discuss it.
Back at the hotel and L decided to go check out the local internet. (Amazingly, almost every town, village or grouping of houses along the road in Mexico has an internet place!) Since it was located at the end of the street and up a rather long set of stairs (I counted 80 later when I was forced to walk up them!) B and I decided to give it a miss. Our family and friends would just have to wait another day to hear from us!

Since it was still a nice afternoon, early evening really, B and I sat outside the hotel, across the street on a low stone wall. While we were just relaxing and enjoying a smoke and Gatorade, an elderly Mexican gentleman approached up the hill towards us, leading a horse. As he passed, he greeted us warmly and led his horse through a passageway in the wall and staked it out to graze on what little grass was to be found there. He returned to where we were sitting and struck up a conversation. I think it quickly became apparent to him how bad our Spanish is because, unlike some Mexicans I can mention, he immediately slowed down his speech and chose his words very carefully so that we would have a better chance of understanding him. As it turns out, we had a very enjoyable, if not sometimes difficult, conversation with him. He lived just down the road and invited us to come on down, meet his wife and kids and have a beer. I cannot be sure, but I think again it was the novelty of the American in Mexico thing that prompted the invitation. We reluctantly declined and made excuses. Neither one of us wanted to spend what would probably turn into several hours of trying to communicate in a language we can hardly get by in. Besides, we had no way of letting L know where we were if we left the hotel. That would have been rude and selfish of us. Two things that I certainly am not!

L eventually returned with the news that the world had not come to an end yet. We were all feeling a slight glow from having had such a wonderful day, but we were also tired of little Xilitla also. After Las Pozas, there was not much to do. We had planned on visiting some nearby caves but decided to forego them in favor of striking out for Zacatecas the next day. This was another city that we were looking forward to seeing.

Car Trip 20

Xilitla is a very small mountain town with only 5300 inhabitants. And I assume that this counted people in the "suburbs" as well as those downtown since the town was very small. It’s only claim to fame was the section of mountain that had been owned by Sir Edward James and converted into the eclectic conglomeration called Las Pozas.

After a few false turns and winding around the very steep and narrow streets of Xilitla, we located our hotel, El Castillo. (www.junglegossip.com) There was no place really to park so we pulled off the road as best we could. We were at the base of a huge, wide staircase that ascended to the next street level above us. There was a double set of doors at street level, which we assumed was the tuck under parking garage for the hotel. The actual entrance to the hotel appeared to be about a quarter of the way up these stairs. L went on ahead to see if he could locate anybody to unlock the entrance gate and let us in. He finally reappeared and announced that we could now unload the car and carry everything up about 50 stairs to the entrance. However, there was no offstreet parking! We had no idea then where the double doors went to or why they were even there. We decided that we could just leave the car where it was and pedestrians going up or down the stairs would just have to walk around it. That settled, we made our way to the entrance.

To say it was weird is an understatement. We were greeted by a set of huge wrought iron gates. Unlocked, these opened onto a few steps up to the main courtyard entrance. The courtyard was canopied with huge, exotic philodendrons. Once the few steps were negotiated, one was greeted with huge concrete footprints. These were raised about six inches off the ground and to negotiate them safely, one had to place one’s feet upon them and follow them. I did not find this to be a fun way to enter a hotel, laden down with luggage, at all. But, hey, we knew this hotel was going to be something really different and we were getting just what we expected! Rooms here were quite expensive but this was going to be one of the few luxuries we allowed ourselves, given the strange and exotic locale and nature of this hotel. We eagerly checked in and followed the manageress to our room.

We were all taken aback when she opened a small door in the courtyard, next to the reception room door. This door opened onto a narrow stairway which went down, not up! She led us down this treacherous stairway to our room.....in the basement! Well, actually, since the hotel was built onto the side of a hill, this was really ground level. There was only one room down there and the door to it was off a large, unused gym/workout area. This area was what was behind the old garage doors. We walked into the room and just stood there, trying to comprehend where she had taken us. We were looking at a rather small room and quite narrow. There were two double beds, placed foot to foot with just enough room on the back side to get to the bathroom. The ceilings were quite high and the one and only window was placed so high up on the wall, it was impossible to see out of it. And it let in very little natural light. To say we were disappointed in this room is to put it mildly! To come all that way, to pay all that money and to anticipate this hotel for so long, the disgust was almost overwhelming. We were situated in a beautiful section of the mountain with vistas all around, and we could not see anything from our room! The praise heaped upon this hotel by the Lonely Planet guide had not prepared us for such an awful room! We decided that since we had already paid for this room, we would spend the night but look for other accommodations in the morning.

We freshened up from our long days’ journey and went "poolside" to enjoy a beverage and a smoke. We were all smoking at this point! After a few moments rest and relaxation, we set out to find the one good restaurant in town listed in the Lonely Planet guide.

Fortunately for us, the main plaza of town was located at the top of the stairs that were located right outside our hotel entrance. But remember, when I say stairs, I mean a long, wide set of uneven cement steps. Quite the chore to walk all the way up. The restaurant that was mentioned in our guidebook was just to the left of the top of the stairs. It was a large, dark almost cavern like building. It supposedly specialized in Italian food. If it did, we never found what we would call Italian food on the menu! We all found something to our liking and ordered up. There was no evidence of an adult anywhere on the staff. Our waiter appeared to be about 14 years old and very new at this job. He tried hard though. The food was just that....food. It was about as exciting as our expensive hotel room! I suppose with thoughts of the long, mountainous drive just completed, I mused while waiting for our meal about the people who lived in the town. I could not comprehend what people found so attractive or lucrative about living here. Miles from any big town and virtually suspended in the mountains. "I wonder what these people aspire to?" I asked, more rhetorically than anything else. Without a moment’s hestiation, B supplied the simple answer. "Flat land!" We all found this quite amusing but you have to remember how tired we were too! Our dining experience over, we decided to explore the tiny square and very large church located on it. The church was sixteenth century with a mission attached to it. Really quite impressive for such a desolate mountain village location. We also wanted to check around for other lodgings.

We ended up finding a rather new hotel on the other side of town, looking back out over the valley we had just wound our way around to get here. The view was spectacular. We looked at a room that had a great view and was much, much cheaper than where we were staying. Having had enough of overblown hype about the quality of the hotel we were in, we quickly reserved the room for the following day/night.

With that done. we located a little ice cream stand on the square, had ourselves some dessert and turned in for the night. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting but strenous day.

Car Trip 19

We left the good, secondary road at San Sebastian and entered onto a third class road. I have always avoided them whenever possible. Since the secondary roads are usually a crap shoot, I could not, and did not, want to even imagine what condition the third class roads would be in!

We were headed across the mountains to the town of Huejutla de Reyes. With L’s nose glued to the atlas, we headed down the road to our shortcut turn off. Upon reaching it, with B in the driver’s seat now, we turned and were taken completely by surprise. The road was a dirt one. Or should I say rock one? Even swerving from one side of the road to the other, to avoid the larger rocks and deeper holes, it was still like driving over railroad ties that had been placed only inches apart. Could this really be the right road? We passed a few houses at the beginning and L asked a couple of people if this was the road to Huejutla de Reyes. They all assured him that it was. So we continued on. The road became worse and at one point we descended a hill where the road crossed a river bed at the bottom. Thank goodness this was the dry season or we would have found ourselves having to cross a river or turn around. Up the other side and we bumped and jostled our way very, very slowly. We were not making good time at all. We had been on this road now for 20 minutes and had gone 2.5 miles! We pulled over to the side of the road and had a little meeting to try to determine if we should go on or not. If this road was correct, and if it eventually got better (no guarantee of that!) we would cut 1.5 hours off our drive time. A considerable chunk. While hemming and hawing over the issue, we saw a pick up approaching from the direction we were headed. And it was a Coca Cola truck! Evidently this road went somewhere that they drank Coke! The driver pulled over across from us and told us that the road did go where we thought, but he could not tell us how far it continued in this condition or if it got better. His route ended only about a mile further down the road. We thanked him but his information gave us little to go on. We finally decided that we should go another 2 miles on this road and if it did not look better, we would turn around. I took over driving, mostly because I wanted to make sure we only went 2 more miles, and off we went. Just down the road, we came to a T junction. There was actually a sign for a village we found on the map so we turned right.

Have any of you ever been on those old railways that have been turned into walking and bike paths? The ones with no curves and that just go straight as far as you can see? Well we were looking at the same sort of thing, except it was miles of rocky, dusty road extending into the horizon. We drove a little further, why I do not know, before deciding that enough is enough. We back traced our route, got back to the main road and headed for the new destination, Tantoyuca. All told, this shortcut cost us 1 hour and 20 minutes of drive time from San Sebastian back to San Sebastian. I was a little concerned because we really had no way of telling how much more time we needed to get to Xilita. We could pretty much figure out the distance but there was no way we could calculate drive time. There were just too many variables to consider. Traffic and condition of the road being the biggest two.

At Tantoyuca, we decided to take the secondary road that cut across to Huejutla de Reyes instead of continuing on the principal highway to Temporal de Sanchez. It was bound to be much shorter and faster. It was another true secondary road. In places it was excellent, but when it was bad, it was very bad. Parts of it not paved and parts of it so full of potholes it was almost impossible to miss them all and speed was unheard of. Along the way we passed through some scary looking villages and I would have hated to have had to stop at any of them. For the most part, I am very comfortable here in Mexico and do not worry about my personal safety or the safety of my property at all. But once in awhile, just like anywhere on Earth, one passes through an area that just gives one the creeps and bad vibes. Such was the case with most of the villages on this route. I don’t know why, and I don’t know if B or L felt the same way, but I sure did.
We finally reached our turn off for Xilitla and felt we were almost home. Of course, we still had quite a ways to go, but the end was in sight.

The next few hours were spent winding our way up the mountain. The scenery, or what I could see of it while driving, was awesome. Great vistas opening into long valleys between the peaks. Far, far below and in the distance, one could occasionally see a village. Many times I wanted to pull over and take some pictures, but there was just no safe place to do it. Shoulders on most of these roads are non-existent. And I hardly dared take my eyes off the road anyway. Only the briefest of glances down every once in awhile. Even though it was an arduous drive, I thoroughly enjoyed it and loved being in the mountains.

Eventually the road kind of flattened and followed the outside contour of the mountain, skirting a deep valley below. In places we could see across the valley to where the road was headed. We guessed, and guessed right, that the town we could see hugging onto the side of the mountain across the valley was indeed Xilitla. We were very happy travelers as we entered the town proper. Our journey that day had been the longest, most strenuous so far. We reached Xilitla twelve hours and fifteen minutes after we had left Xalapa. And my body felt like it. We were all bone tired and anxious to get out of the car, check into our hotel and get something to eat. After all, we had a reservation to stay at the hotel, El Castillo. This was the hotel built by Sir Edward James’ friend and foreman. The hotel was supposedly as eccentric, intriguing and unconventional as Las Pozas itself. It is also listed in the Lonely Planet as one of the top 10 must stay places in Mexico. We were greatly looking forward to our stay here.

Car Trip 18

Is it just me, or does it seem that a lot of our days were spent getting up at 5:00 am? Thursday was no different. Today was going to be a huge day of traveling. We needed to get from Xalapa to Xilitla (hee-leet-la) and we needed to do it in one day. As best we could figure, it was 327 miles. And not good miles either. We would truly be entering into the Sierra Madre mountains and we had no idea what our drive time would be.

Bags repacked and the car loaded, we had no time or place for coffee or breakfast. We headed out of town, feeling just a little sad to be leaving such a great city, but happy too that we were on our way to another new adventure! Lucky for us, our route out of town passed by a OXXO store. These are similar to our 7-11 or Super America stores. This particular one was open 24 hours so we pulled in to grab a cup of coffee to take with us. Except the doors were locked. At some preordained time, they lock the doors for the night and then reopen them, I suppose, when they feel it is safely daylight again. At any rate, they have a slot in the door where you can tell the clerk what you want, hand him your money and he goes and gets it for you. It kind of reminded me of when the jailer opens the little door in prison and slides the dinner in. Except of course that these doors were all glass. We each ordered coffee and the clerk dutifully made each one to our individual specification and passed them out to us. We spent a few chilly minutes standing outside the car, sipping the very hot coffee and enjoying the early morning stillness of the city. Since we do not have cup holders in the car, and smoking is not allowed in it, we had to finish our coffee before we could get on the road again.

Our route took us slightly northeast, heading for the coast again. We had a bit of freeway to Banderilla but our luck ran out there and we had to switch onto another secondary road, heading for Martinez de la Torre. We were still climbing what is considered the foothills of the Sierra Madre, but they were still some huge hills! There is no easy, direct route for where we were going so we were forced to switch back and forth from highway to highway. A few miles on this one, then a few miles on another, then turn onto this one and on and on. Navigation was a nightmare but L was in the passenger seat and throughout the trip did an extremely fine job of getting us to where we needed to drive.

We took Veracruz 234 out of Martinez de la Torre, heading for the city of Poza Rica. We intended to skirt the outside of it and continue then on Hwy 130 to Alamo. The road signs had different plans for us.

The Lonely Planet says there is no reason on Earth to visit Poza Rica, except if you are unfortunate enough to have to change buses here. It is a congested, dirty oil town. Downtown has a sleazy feel and also a feeling of not really being safe. Somehow, we found ourselves in downtown Poza Rica, on their version of Main Street no less! It was a crowded, narrow, noisy and bustling road. Ending up here instead of skirting it was not the navigators’ fault. The signs for the road we needed led us directly downtown and then vanished! Typical Mexican signage. I repeat to anyone who drives here. Have as many good, up to date maps as you can find with you. You will need one or more of them several times! So L grabbed one of our maps or books that had a downtown map of Poza Rica in it and proceeded to direct me to turn here, then here, then here. He had us out of that awful mess called downtown and back on our correct route in less than 10 minutes! We certainly could have used him getting through Villahermosa!

Our trip remained quite uneventful after that. Except for crossing one large suspension bridge over a wide river. From looking at it, one would not have suspected the condition it was in. The entire driving surface was full of holes! Not dents or dips, but actually holes! Evidently the surface material had deteriorated, leaving large holes that one had to drive around in order not to fall through to the river below! Not a pleasant thought or experience! Another reason why it is never a good idea to dive after dark in Mexico!

Because we had been heading northeast, back towards the Gulf, we mostly left the mountains behind for awhile and had fairly good, flat roads and made good time. We finally reached the town of Alamo, where we decided to have lunch. This town must have been famous for its’ production of oranges because beside the main road, as you entered the city, there was a giant statute of a man bent over from the weight of a great basket of oranges. And the oranges were spilling out and had fallen to the ground in a long stream from the basket. It was very well done.




Leaving Alamo behind, we continued on our way, now heading northwest and back into central Mexico and the mountains. I really can’t do justice to this mountain range. It is stupendously beautiful. Totally unlike the Rockies or the Alps. These mountains are, for the most part, lush and very green. We started to climb, following the road that had so many twists it was like following the path of a drunken snake. We passed banana and orange plantations. The hills were covered with them. We passed through little villages clinging to the sides of hills where people were struggling to cultivate every flat piece of land they could find. And lacking that, they planted on the hillsides, all by hand I am guessing. Even if they could afford one, no tractor would be able to negotiate these hills. The road was so steep and there were so many switchbacks and hairpin turns, I hardly ever got the car out of the third gear. (I have a five speed manual)

We finally reached our next milestone point, San Sebastian. L had calculated that we could get off the main road here and take a short cut, thus cutting many kilometers off our journey. Otherwise, we would have had to continue way north just to make a U turn and come back down south. If we took the shortcut, from east to west, we could save a lot of time also. But just like in all good stories, and all good movies, shortcuts are not always what they seem to be!

Car Trip 17

Wednesday was to be our last day in Xalapa and we had a lot planned. We were going to take a side trip today to see some attractions in the area. We were going to drive to a town about 10 miles south called Coatepec. It is known mostly for the orchid garden in the main square and for coffee. Lots of coffee. But before stopping and exploring this town of 44,700 people, we had another waterfall to see!

We skirted Coatepec and headed for the little town of Xico.** Just past Xico is a little stone road that leads to the waterfalls called Texolo. They have a 130 foot drop and from what I saw on the internet while doing research for the trip, they looked stupendous. Now when I say stone road, I literally mean a road made out of stones. Giant pebbles pushed into the ground to form a roadway. A bumpy roadway! We traversed this 1.5 mile road very slowly and with lots of teeth rattling. The road sloped gently downhill, leading us to the entrance to the waterfalls. We parked and walked over to the lookout point and got our first glimpse of the falls.

They were even better in person than the pictures on the internet. We were looking across a deep gorge. This gorge ended at a rock wall off to our right before making a sharp turn and meandering again off to our right. Cutting through this rock wall and dropping to the valley and river below, were the falls. One long column of water, falling with great grandeur and dignity. There was another lookout spot quite close to the falls so we headed out onto the path leading that way.

We walked for awhile along this red dirt path. Passing some banana trees and lots of coffee plants. They were loaded with red coffee beans, not quite ripe. The path finally led us around a corner and then down a lot of stairs to the bridge that crossed the gorge. The bridge did not look like it was going to be fun, or safe, at all! It was a very old iron suspension bridge with the walkway made up of old wooden planks. Each side of the walkway was lined with chain link, about four feet high. And to say it was covered with rust would be an understatement of its' true condition! We could see the bridge quite clearly as we made our way down the final set of stairs to gorge top level. As we approached it we saw the sign on it. It said "American Bridge Company of New York. USA. 1908" And looking at it, I had no doubt that that was the year it had been constructed on this site. Having no other choice if we wanted to get to the other side, out onto this death trap we went. B, of course, staying very close to the center of it and not looking over the edge. L and I, not having this fear of falling, ventured a glimpse over the edge. My heart leapt to my throat. It was such a long, long way down. If the boards gave out, or a cable snapped, we would plunge to our premature deaths on the rocks below. Just looking down was an adrenaline rush and made my heart pound so loudly that I could almost hear it. It was also hypnotizing, gazing straight down and then letting your gaze wander on down the gorge. It was during this eye wandering that I noticed people on the rocks of the shore of the river so far below us. If one of them had not had on a brightly colored shirt, I doubt that I would have even noticed them, it was that far down to them.

enlarge to see what I am looking at!

I wondered how on Earth they got down there. I discovered later that to the left of where we first came in, there was a set of steps that went down. A quick calculation told me that there would be at least 1016 steps to the bottom. That didn’t daunt me. What gave me pause, and made me decide to give going to the bottom a miss, was the fact that there would be 1016 steps back up! I vividly remembered how difficult it had been getting back up the 242 steps of Salto de Eyipantla just a few days before. Naturally, we made it safely across the bridge and began our exploration of this side of the gorge as we headed for the overlook next to the falls.

The vistas were breathtaking. From this side and angle, we could see quite aways down the gorge. I traced the river as it meandered along the bottom, finding its’ way through the rocks. Eventually we made it to the overlook and were standing right next to where the falls made their plunge over the edge. It was quite a thrill watching that water fall 130 feet straight down in a wide ribbon of mist and foam. I took way too many pictures of it. But you know how it is when you are on vacation and you see something really beautiful, unique or something that really impresses you. You just go snap, snap, snap! ***

As we were walking to the falls, we passed several "grounds keepers" who were busy trimming the brush with their machetes. One of them told us to be sure not to miss the little path that led to another waterfall further up the hill and past the big one. We located this path and followed it upstream and were rewarded with another beautiful set of falls. Of course, not of the stature or grandeur of its’ big sister further downstream, but nice all the same. Sadly, we eventually had to say goodbye to this adventure and head out for our next stop.

On the way back to Coatepec we drove around the cobblestone streets of a little town. I forget the name and it isn’t even on the map. We could see the town square and church at the end of "main" street, about 10 blocks away. As we drove to it, we encountered very few cars but lots of people on foot, horseback or driving carts pulled by donkeys. It seemed such a simple life there but I am sure it is a very hard existence. The church was worth the detour but we didn’t dally and were soon back on our way to Coatepec.

Coatepec is also a very charming city in its’ own right. Many of the buildings were covered with tile instead of paint. We parked the car next to the square and set off to explore a little and find someplace for lunch. As we walked along, little doorways would appear and, as you looked in, you noticed that they were the entrances to large plazas behind. Some were private homes but some were also little shopping centers. We did visit a few of these. But what we really noticed was the coffee shops. The smell of roasting coffee was everywhere. Since this is a major coffee growing region, it stands to reason that there would be several shops selling freshly roasted and ground coffee. In one shop, the owner gave us a little lesson on the coffee bean, the different types, the different ways they are roasted and how they are graded as to quality. B and I each bought several different kinds and watched as he custom ground the beans we had chosen. Later, upon our return home, we wished that we had bought a lot more. It was delicious and had a very fresh taste. Live and learn I guess.

For lunch we chose a restaurant directly across from the park and our car. It was called "Los Arcos de Belem". The sign also proclaimed that they had been serving the community from the same location for 46 years. We figured there had to be something good about it to have lasted that long in a non-tourist economy. The food was some of the best we had on the entire trip. We were loaded down with appetizers, soup, an entree, bread, tortillas, all kinds of sauces and finally dessert and coffee. It was a wonderful culinary experience and only cost 40 pesos each, or about $4! One of the sauces was particular tasty and L got the recipe so we could try making it at home. It was a peanut sauce with chilis. We did later buy the correct chilis in a market, but we have yet to attempt to make it at home!

Totally satisfied with the results of our little excursion, we loaded ourselves back into the car and made our way slowly back to our hotel in Xalapa.

** Hola John!

*** Most of my pictures from this trip were never saved to a disc. That computer crashed and was stolen before I could get it fixed. Most of the pics you will see from now on were taken by L, who was smart enough to download his onto a disc! Besides, most of my remaining pics have either B or L or both in them and they refuse to let me post pics of them on the internet. What spoilsports!

Car Trip 16

Tuesday morning arrived and we enjoyed an early breakfast in the hotel and then out to the street. We were looking for a "collectivo", which is usually a VW van that carries passengers. Like a mini bus. We found the bus stop and got on the one that would take us to our destination, the Anthropology Museum.

This museum has the best collection of Olmec artifacts in all of Mexico. After spending several hours looking at stone statues, stone toys, stone faces, stone this and some more stone that, I was beginning to feel about the Olmecs what I feel for Mayan ruins. I don’t care if I ever see another pile of rock walls or Olmec statuary again! That said, I must make it clear that it was interesting. It was just overkill and one can quickly OD on a museum that is totally devoted to one subject.

After the museum, we decided that we could walk to our next attraction. The official name of where we were going is Parque Ecologico Macuiltepetl. I call it the Volcano Hill from Hell. The book said it was about a 200 yard walk from the Museum so we decided to walk this short distance. Unfortunately, it was 200 yards of another uphill climb! I would like to meet the person who measured the distance too. I think he really underestimated the distance! It was on this walk that we passed a shop with the TV on and we learned that the Pope had died. Anyway, this dead volcano on the edge of town is now covered with a dense forest and has a path that spirals its' way around and around, ever up and up to the top of the volcano. More uphill!

B and I were quickly getting pooped but kept putting one foot in front of the other until we reached the top. Or close to the top. There was a set of steps going up the final bit to an observation tower on the top of the volcano. B decided to wait at the base of the steps and L and I headed up. I wanted to climb that tower and get some pictures of the what I thought would be a great vista. I don’t know how many steps there were, but it was a lot and they were all unlevel. Upon reaching the top, we then had to negotiate the winding staircase that went up the tower. That done, I emerged out onto the observation level and took a look around. I was very disappointed to say the least. The view from our hotel window was almost better. No attempt had been made to clear the trees that had grown up over the years around the tower. So we got a nice, good, close up look at a bunch of trees! All that climbing for this? I guess not every adventure has a happy ending!

We grabbed a taxi back to the hotel and went to lunch. Xalapa also has an abundance of little restaurants, specializing in "comida del dia", or meal of the day, specials. We chose one and had a great, filling meal of bread, soup, main course, dessert and coffee for only $2.50 each! I was feeling quite full and wanted a siesta rather than another activity. But the afternoon was to be devoted to the Science Museum. I was sure it was going to be a boring waste of time anyway.

I was in for a quite a surprise. The Science Museum was something else. It was great, hands-on fun exhibits. There were three that I particularly enjoyed. The first was a digital beach volleyball court. This virtual volleyball would be hit over the net to you and you had to hit it back. Just like the real thing except you were reacting to pictures on a screen. I got hit on the head three times in a row and it was game over. I was a little ticked off. Next up, L. First serve to him, he hits it back. The virtual teams lobs over an answer. Whack! L hits it back. Crowd roars. So on and so on until L got 21 points and beat the virtual team! In fact, his final score was in the top 3 all time scores! I think his head must be smaller than mine and not such an easy target! (well, until he got his name on the scoreboard, then it swelled considerably!)

The second was a bed, similar to the examination table in a doctors office. But this one was full of tiny holes and made out of metal. With more than a little trepidation, I lay myself down on this bed. The attendant pushed a button and the bed frame started to descend. And then I started to feel the nails. Lots of nails. Lots of sharp nails. Because my weight was evenly distributed on the bed, the nails did not pierce or break the skin. But they sure did poke into it! I could feel them poking into my back, the back of my head, the back of my legs, the back of everything. The attendant pushed a button again and the bed frame rose again, in effect covering the nails and leaving me again on the plain metal frame. I got up and looked at myself. Indeed, I did have dozens and dozens of tiny indentations in my skin, caused by the sharp ends of the nails. But nowhere was the skin actually pierced. The whole thing was worth it because now I can say I have lain myself down on a bed of nails!

The third thing I liked was simple bubbles. Like the kind you can buy in a jar and take that stick with a hole in it and blow on it and make bubbles. Except these were done in large scale. It was great fun to make these huge bubbles, the size of basketballs, and then catch and hold them. Oh, the simple joys of being a child again! One part I really, really liked was they had you stand in the middle of a circle, surrounded by a moat of bubble soap. Two guys then raised this ring up and around you, completely enclosing you inside the bubble! It was great!

We also took advantage of watching the IMAX 3D presentation of "T-Rex, Era of Crustecea". We were the only three people in the theater! What a bad, bad production. If it ever comes to an IMAX near you, give it a miss.

We grabbed a taxi back to the hotel from there. I noticed that the driver had a bag of suckers in the front. Passenger treats I assumed. I told him that I had been a good boy and he laughed and passed me back a sucker. He also gave one to B and L, and they didn’t even have to state whether they had been good or not!

Later we went to dinner, looked at and admired the lights of the city all over the hills and went for a cup of coffee. All in all, a very good day.