12.Feb.02
On the bus
Finally! I thought we would never
leave. Every time one of us was ready to go the other suddenly had
something else to take care of. There is no bus directly to
Guanajuato, so we were on our way to Celaya. Once there, we would
need to find a bus that would take us the rest of the way. I guessed
this 15-hour ride would give me a chance
to brush up on my Spanish by watching and listening to hours and
hours of Spanish movies and music. Normally, I like to watch the
country-side stroll past, but it was nighttime, so I couldn't see
much out there. Some of the movies were OK; I especially liked the
one that had a luchador detective. Reading, a nap, more reading,
research, and then sleep.
13.Feb.02
26 hours and 3 buses later...We finally
made it
We crossed the border at 4:15am where
we changed buses the first time, although we almost didn't make it
due to Christian misplacing his ticket. Fortunately, he found it, and
we were on our way. We made it to Celaya and had to switch buses
again. The next bus took us over the mountains, where we saw a bus
that had flipped over and off the road.
The bus was hanging on the edge of a big drop-off and people were all
over the place. Some were helping people out of the bus and others
were trying to get all the luggage out before the bus slipped over.
As scary as that was, it was nothing compared to next couple of hours
of twisting mountain roads that at times had our bus barely hanging
onto the edge.
It was about 11:00pm when we finally
made it into Guanajuato. We got a cab to take us to the hotel and let
me say, it was an adventure! He sped us through the narrow twisting
streets and the tunnels at about 70 mph, up hills, down hills,
through hills, this place looks like it was laid out by M.C.
Escher. When we got to the hotel,
we paid the driver and he shot off like a bat out of hell before we
noticed the hotel was closed. As if that wasn't bad enough, it was
starting to rain. We noticed a set of stairs across the street and at
the top what looked like a covered landing between the buildings. Up
the stairs to find a dry place to get our bearings and plan our next
move. Once we got to the top, we found ourselves on another level of
the city. The landing was, in fact, a covered walk-way to a higher
level road. Regardless of what it appeared to be, it was a dry place
to think. After consulting the guide book and a little exploring, we
found a hotel.
We dropped off our bags and went in
search of food. We found a great place, part restaurant part hostel,
named Truco Siete. The restaurant was
painted in bright colors and filled with local art; it was like
Mexico in Technicolor. I had enchiladas and the best
garlic soup I have ever had; it was a clear chicken and garlic
broth with bits of minced roasted garlic, chives, and a poached egg.
After that, with our bellies full, we walked around and found a cool
bar named “Che Bar.” It was part of
an old mine, so you have to go down some steps. The walls of the bar
were naked rock and the place was lit by candle. One of the strangest
things about the place was that it had a window that looked down on
one of the tunnel roads. After a couple of beers it was time to
explore some more. We found "Bar Ocho,"
a very cool bar that's owned by an American girl named Julie. This
bar was also filled with art; I think this town is really big on the
arts. We had some beers and talked to Sam, the bartender, who speaks
very good English. It was getting really late, and we were really
beat, so we called it a night.
14.Feb.02
Today was a good day
We slept in till about 11am, then had
coffee at a sidewalk cafe. We then toured the
whole town and went to the Mummy Museum. This place was
interesting. Apparently, since there are no ground burials in
Guanajuato (because it's carved into the side of a mountain), and
limited tomb space (because they have no place to expand), when
residents die, their families must pay rent. If they lapse in their
rent, the deceased are exhumed. Given the climate of the area, many
of these bodies are mummified. The museum collects the better
preserved specimens and displays them. Among their more interesting
displays are the mummy baby and the woman who was buried alive. Her
hands are frozen in a clawed position, as if trying to dig her way
out.
The architecture here is crazy. It's
like a giant child was playing with colorful building blocks and left
his toys out. There are streets that appear out of tunnels, highways
that run underground, houses sticking to the hillsides like velcro,
and narrow pathways between houses that open up to beautiful
courtyards with no visible alternative entries. Like they were secret
places put there for me to discover. We had dinner at another
sidewalk cafe. They seem to be all over the place here. Apparently,
in Guanajuato they prefer to dine al fresco. Then we went back to the
room for a nap.
Up again at 8pm thinking
"Necesito elote!" Elote en vaso is a delicious treat
that can be bought from one of the many street vendors. They shave
freshly roasted corn into a cup, then give you a choice of toppings
including mayonnaise, butter, lime juice, chili powder, delicious
powdered stinky cheese, or the way I like it, “con todo.” So I
got a corn to snack on. Then we found a spiffy bar, "Spanglish,"
which is owned by another American, Paul. As it turns out, Paul is
also from Texas and lived in Houston for a while. Spanglish seems to
be the hangout for all the Texans living in Guanajuato. We met Steve
and Jason, two of Paul's friends from Texas, then Julie showed up and
dragged us all back to her place.
Back at Bar Ocho, things started
hopping. We met three new friends: Zulma, Rosavio, and Juliana, who
then dragged me off to some disco around
the corner. It was one of those typical oontz oontz places, pouring
crazy heavy drinks. It was the most well-spotlit place in that part
of town. I thought Christian was right behind me, but it turns out he
had no idea where I went. All three of the ladies were flirting with
me, and I could tell they wanted me to stay with them, but I had to
do the responsible thing and find Christian. So, after a little
drinking and dancing, I went back to Bar Ocho, but Christian was
gone. I went to the hotel and found him waiting in the lobby, since I
had the only room key.
15.Feb.02
Time to head to Mexico City
We checked out and went to get some
coffee. My head was still spinning from last night. Julie asked us to
come by the bar before we left, so we did. She fed us and gave us
some T-shirts, and told us to keep in touch. Our bus didn't leave for
a couple of hours, so we did some last minute exploring/shopping. We
found the
Mercado Hidalgo;
it's the main market and it's huge.
The market is in what was once a train station. Walking in, it's like
every flea market you've ever been to, combined and Mexi-fied. Upon
entry, I was greeted by an orgy of tantalizing aromas. The first
thing I saw was the food section, where a variety of fresh fruits are
being served with chile, and various dishes are being served from the
veritable food court of venders. Next is the riot of souvenir,
clothing, and jewelry mongers all loudly proclaiming their wares.
Winding through the narrow aisles, it was easy to lose myself among
the throngs of shopping families. Upstairs, there were electronics,
cookware, and other sundry gadgets for reasonable prices. Looking
over the balcony was like looking down on an ant colony: organized
chaos. All of the different stores set out on the first floor created
a maze of aisles that are a delight to get lost in. Viewed from
above, it was easier to get my bearings and devise a path to the
stall I wanted to visit.
Then we hopped a bus for Mexico City.
It was very late when we got there, and the hostel we planned to stay
at, Hostel Mundo Joven Catedral Mexico City, was full. This is a
really nice hostel as far as hostels go. They had a cafe and an
internet bar, though, so we were able to slow down for a minute and
think about our next step. After a lot of calls we found a hotel,
Hotel Azores, and settled in for the night.
16.Feb.02
Refreshed
The hotel was a
nice change of pace, it was a little small but the beds were soft and
the toilet had a seat. Refreshed, we headed out to see the town and,
let me say, this place is crazy big and amazing! We wandered around
the Zocalo (roughly means square) most of the day. The Mexico city
Zocalo is the second largest square in the world after Red Square;
there's lots to do and see here. We found a bar on the top floor of a
building facing the Zocalo and looked over all the events going on.
In one corner a concert, in the middle traditional Aztec dancing,
another corner another concert, and venders all over the place. After
a day of exploring and haggling for goods we went to the hostel to
hung out the rest of the night drinking beer and coffee, talking to
fellow travelers, and surfing the internet. We needed to call it an
early night, because tomorrow morning we are going to see the
pyramids, yes, pyramids in Mexico.
17.Feb.02
Holy Temples and
Tequila Batman!
18.Feb.02
Finally in
paradise!
After all night
and day on buses and one crazy
“Collectivo”(a
shared taxi)
ride we have made it to Zipolite (I could stay here forever).
Zipolite started as a hippie commune back in the '60s, and it's
pretty much become a backpacker's mecca. It's so beautiful here; the
hotel (Lo Cosmico) we found was no more than a collection of huts
with thatched roofs. The landscape looks like a relaxed tropical
movie set; mountains, palm trees, thatched huts on a sandy beach with
clear blue water. I walked up and down the beach and found a place to
eat, and had some of the best enchiladas I’ve ever had. I realize
during this trip I’m coming across a lot of “the best I’ve ever
hads” and I think some of it has to do with the experience,
regardless I’m glad I’m having them. Went back to the room to
shower and change, then back out to check out the night life. We
found a couple of good bars and drank some beers and went back to our
hut for some shut eye.
19.Feb.02
¡Ay
Caliente!
After breakfast,
Christian went to check out two small towns “Mazunte and San
Augustinello” down the road. I wanted to just lay on the beach and
do nothing. It would be nice to just clear my mind and not worry
about any schedules. People so rarely get a chance to just do
nothing. Wearing only my sarong and a pair of sunglasses I hit the
beach. After a little while of communing with nature I met some other
like-minded travelers. We had some beers, played in the surf, had
some more beers, and enjoyed the sun. Unfortunately, I forgot how
strong the sun was down here, so I got myself a nice all-over burn.
Christian came back late afternoon and we got some dinner, then
checked out the disco and some other bars. After some beers we called
it a night.
20.Feb.02
Busy doing
nothing
We decided to
pack up and move down the coast to the next town over: San
Augustinello. It's a lot more laid back here. Since I'm burned, I
can't do much so we found a restaurant (Palapas
Olas Altas) to
rent us some hammocks (yes, a restaurant rented us hammocks, for
about $1 a night), and I chilled out there while Christian went
exploring. It was right on the beach, so we got to go to sleep
listening to the ocean crashing. After the sun went down, we went to
a couple of bars to eat and see what the nightlife is like here. It's
very slow here, mostly families, so it was a comparatively sleepy
little town in between two backpacker meccas. We were back early and
sleeping by 10:00 pm.
21.Feb.02
Mazunte
Up early today
(no choice). The restaurant was opening for business. Rolled out of
the hammock and had breakfast. Next, we went to Mazunte to see what
it was all about. Mazunte is another backpacker's mecca. After
hanging out on the beach for a while, we climbed up the side of the
mountain to what they call Sunset point. After that, we explored the
town a little then headed back to San Augustinello. We had dinner at
one place and hung out at another, talking to some other travelers,
but it was getting late (not really) and I'm tired. Plus, the only
light I have to write by is the ones hung around the virgin Mary
shrine, so I'm calling it a night.
22.Feb.02
Our Heads if They
Weren't Nailed On
I woke up and
finally got to take a shower for the first time in days. After that,
we heard of a place that had real coffee, not Nescafe like all the
other places we've been. For some reason, Mexico is having a torrid
love affair with Nescafe. It's instant coffee everywhere we go. So we
had breakfast and some real coffee. We went back and packed and after
debating whether or not we paid with some lady, I finally told her we
paid the man and if he didn’t tell her then that was her problem,
not ours. I'm not about to pay for one night twice. We got our bags
and hopped a camioneta to Zipolite to get online for a while before
heading to Pochutla.
Zipolite is the only town between the three that has internet access. I wanted to go into town and get our tickets first but Christian insisted it would be easier to just buy them once we got there, so reluctantly I said OK. We spent the day in Zipolite then hopped the last camioneta to town where we ran into our German friends (who we met earlier at the restaurant with the hammocks) who asked me if I left my Chacos at the Palapa this morning. I checked and realized I did. The good thing was that we had to go right by the place. The bad part was Christian left his hat at the internet cafe in Zipolite.
At the Palapa, I asked the driver to wait a moment. We jumped off. I ran and got my Chacos and hopped back on. Christian took a cab back to Zipolite to get his hat and then into town. We met up at the bus station. My ride cost 10 Pesos and his cost 6 pesos for the camioneta and 80 pesos for the cab. At the bus station we found out they only take pesos and we were fresh out. No Visa, no dollars, no travelers checks. And all the money changers were closed. This is why I like to get my tickets early, just in case. Anyway we found an ATM, got our tickets and something to eat and got on the bus. The bus takes 12 hours. Fortunately it's a night bus and I might get some sleep.
Zipolite is the only town between the three that has internet access. I wanted to go into town and get our tickets first but Christian insisted it would be easier to just buy them once we got there, so reluctantly I said OK. We spent the day in Zipolite then hopped the last camioneta to town where we ran into our German friends (who we met earlier at the restaurant with the hammocks) who asked me if I left my Chacos at the Palapa this morning. I checked and realized I did. The good thing was that we had to go right by the place. The bad part was Christian left his hat at the internet cafe in Zipolite.
At the Palapa, I asked the driver to wait a moment. We jumped off. I ran and got my Chacos and hopped back on. Christian took a cab back to Zipolite to get his hat and then into town. We met up at the bus station. My ride cost 10 Pesos and his cost 6 pesos for the camioneta and 80 pesos for the cab. At the bus station we found out they only take pesos and we were fresh out. No Visa, no dollars, no travelers checks. And all the money changers were closed. This is why I like to get my tickets early, just in case. Anyway we found an ATM, got our tickets and something to eat and got on the bus. The bus takes 12 hours. Fortunately it's a night bus and I might get some sleep.
23.Feb.02
You Can't Stop
Here! It's Zapatista Country!
We spent all
night on the bus and managed to get some sleep. We got to San
Cristobal between 11am and noon. Our bus to Palenque didn't leave
till 5pm so we had a little time to kill. San Cristobal was the
center of the Zapatista rebellion and the local people think of them
as heroes. Every corner has some little girl selling little Zapa
dolls. Though in principle I may agree with the Zapatista cause, I'm
a grown man, so I don't want to buy dolls. So we found an internet
cafe and checked our email and drank some bad coffee. Later I had
some bad pizza. It was getting close to time for our bus so we went
back to the station.
San Cristobal was a pretty town. Either we had poor luck and found all the bad spots, or they just don't have any good restaurants there. It's probably the former. 11pm we arrived in Palenque and checked into some place that calls itself a Youth Hostel ( 2a. Avenida Sur Pte [Av. 20 de Noviembre] between Central Sur [Independencia] and 1a. Pte Sur [Abasolo] ), but with the poor standards this place keeps there's no way it is one. We went to a couple of discos with some guys we met on the bus. When I got back to the so called hostel, the door was locked. I knocked, and the old lady came out and just looked at me. After a minute or two she opened the door. I went up and passed out.
San Cristobal was a pretty town. Either we had poor luck and found all the bad spots, or they just don't have any good restaurants there. It's probably the former. 11pm we arrived in Palenque and checked into some place that calls itself a Youth Hostel ( 2a. Avenida Sur Pte [Av. 20 de Noviembre] between Central Sur [Independencia] and 1a. Pte Sur [Abasolo] ), but with the poor standards this place keeps there's no way it is one. We went to a couple of discos with some guys we met on the bus. When I got back to the so called hostel, the door was locked. I knocked, and the old lady came out and just looked at me. After a minute or two she opened the door. I went up and passed out.
24.Feb.02
Town Closed Under
Murphy's Law
We didn't do much
today. Christian took his clothes to the laundry. I washed mine in
the sink to save money. I got online and finally uploaded all of my
journal, but before I could save it, the power went out and I lost
everything. The lady saw how mad I was so she didn't charge me. We
missed the bus out to the ruins, so I guess we'll have to go
tomorrow. There isn't much to do in Palenque. The discos are no good.
The restaurants are even worse. The power goes out all the time.
Really, the only reason to go to Palenque is to visit the nearby
ruins.
25.Feb.02
Ruins and Chaos
Make for a Pleasant Night
We got up early
to pack so we could leave this dump as soon as we got back from the
ruins. We left our bags downstairs and got some breakfast. Then we
went to the banco for money and to pay for our tourist cards. Found a
collectivo to the ruins and, my God, this place is beautiful. Once
inside we started exploring and I found my way to the top of the
tallest temple. I knew I wasn't supposed to be up there but I
couldn't resist the challenge (because I'm a dare-devil). Sitting on
top of the temple, I could see the entire site. A timeless feeling
washed over me. I felt like a Mayan king looking over my city. It had
a very familiar feel, like I'd been here before. It was great. About
5 or 10 minutes went by and I saw Christian down below and made the
mistake of calling to him. So Christian, the guards, and every one
else looked up. I didn’t want to get thrown out yet because we just
got there, so I climbed down the back side of the temple and ran into
the jungle. In the jungle I found some temples that were overgrown
and not yet restored; they were pretty cool. Then while hiding in the
jungle, I ran into the head archeologist who was in charge of the
whole park. He was from the states and a cool guy, he told me all
about the ruins and the monkeys there. He also told me about Tikal
and some other ruin sites. I finally found Christian and we explored
the rest of the site.
Now the plan was to go back and get our bags, then head for Guatamala. Plans don't always work out the way you want them to. Back in town, we found out the only bus (a VW mini-van) left at 7am. So it looked like we were stuck here another day. We went to get something to eat and noticed there was no power in the whole city. Fortunately, being a boy scout, I was prepared. The hotel being only half a block away, I dashed back and grabbed my emergency candle and battery operated radio from my bag, to add a little ambiance to the bar. We sat in the cafe for a while and watched the craziness on the street. With our little table near the open side wall, our candle and radio bringing some entertainment to the other customers who settled into tables near us to enjoy our light and music amidst the chaos of the street, it made our last night in Palenque almost bearable.
Once the power came back on, we found a better hotel, which happened to be right across the street. For the same price, we got a room that looked like a real hotel room and the bathroom was actually nice (and the toilet had a seat, the first toilet seat in thousands of miles). I had to use it, I didn’t even have to go. I just had to feel a real toilet seat under me. We went to bed early so we could get up early. I'm not going to get stuck in Palenque again!
Now the plan was to go back and get our bags, then head for Guatamala. Plans don't always work out the way you want them to. Back in town, we found out the only bus (a VW mini-van) left at 7am. So it looked like we were stuck here another day. We went to get something to eat and noticed there was no power in the whole city. Fortunately, being a boy scout, I was prepared. The hotel being only half a block away, I dashed back and grabbed my emergency candle and battery operated radio from my bag, to add a little ambiance to the bar. We sat in the cafe for a while and watched the craziness on the street. With our little table near the open side wall, our candle and radio bringing some entertainment to the other customers who settled into tables near us to enjoy our light and music amidst the chaos of the street, it made our last night in Palenque almost bearable.
Once the power came back on, we found a better hotel, which happened to be right across the street. For the same price, we got a room that looked like a real hotel room and the bathroom was actually nice (and the toilet had a seat, the first toilet seat in thousands of miles). I had to use it, I didn’t even have to go. I just had to feel a real toilet seat under me. We went to bed early so we could get up early. I'm not going to get stuck in Palenque again!
26.Feb.02
The Rode to
Flores
Up early to catch
the collectivo. We got in; it took off. We didn't look back. I wasn't
even sure it was the right bus, I was just happy to be out of
Palenque. The collectivo didn't go all the way to Frontina Carosa, so
we had to catch a cab for the last 16Km. Frontina Carosa is the
crossing point on the river, where you can catch a ferry boat into
Guatemala. Once there, we found out the boat was 300 pesos, and we
only had 170p between us. We didn't want to change any money because
on the other side of the border it would do us no good. So, we had to
wait and hope someone else wanted to cross over. After standing
around for a while, one of the boat captains said he would take us
for 100p each. We told him we only had 170p, unless he took VISA.
After a minute, he said ok to the 170p, and we were on our way.
The Rio was nice, but once we were down river and on the other side, the insanity began. Even before we stepped off the boat, we had people offering us rides. One guy said for $10 each, he would take us all the way to Flores, but we knew the bus was less than $4 each. We talked him down to $5 each so we wouldn't have to wait for the bus to fill up. He stopped at the immigration control office, and it seemed more like organized crime than a government office. There was a guy sitting behind an old kitchen table across from a row of plastic school-style chairs. He was sitting, shirt open, big gold chains hanging out...I'm not sure if this was an actual immigration office or some operation this guy set up, but the stamp looked legit enough, so we moved on. On the way, we noticed that Guatemala is full of cowboys. Everybody has guns either strapped to their shoulders or belts. Two and a half hours later, we made it to Flores.
This place is beautiful: cobblestone streets, every building a different color, not to mention the city is an island. We dropped off our bags and went in search of coffee. The book suggested a place called the Croc Club, and I had some real coffee. I've noticed it's hard to get a bad cup of coffee in Guatemala. There, we met Pitra, a fellow traveler from Austria. She hung out with us the rest of the day, and we traded travel stories.
The Rio was nice, but once we were down river and on the other side, the insanity began. Even before we stepped off the boat, we had people offering us rides. One guy said for $10 each, he would take us all the way to Flores, but we knew the bus was less than $4 each. We talked him down to $5 each so we wouldn't have to wait for the bus to fill up. He stopped at the immigration control office, and it seemed more like organized crime than a government office. There was a guy sitting behind an old kitchen table across from a row of plastic school-style chairs. He was sitting, shirt open, big gold chains hanging out...I'm not sure if this was an actual immigration office or some operation this guy set up, but the stamp looked legit enough, so we moved on. On the way, we noticed that Guatemala is full of cowboys. Everybody has guns either strapped to their shoulders or belts. Two and a half hours later, we made it to Flores.
This place is beautiful: cobblestone streets, every building a different color, not to mention the city is an island. We dropped off our bags and went in search of coffee. The book suggested a place called the Croc Club, and I had some real coffee. I've noticed it's hard to get a bad cup of coffee in Guatemala. There, we met Pitra, a fellow traveler from Austria. She hung out with us the rest of the day, and we traded travel stories.
More to come....I'm transcribing this
from my journal when I find time. Keep reading.
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