Nothing's taxing in Taxco

"Pulling out our hair, drowning in despair. With a whole lot of nothing, on your way to nowhere".  Whole lot of nothing is bang on the mark. We certainly didn't see any loco in Acapulco. Not sure anybody did!

Some super bikers were still cruising the strip, presumably been on the go all night, as we checked out from our cell. We are so out of here. We couldn't get on the bus quick enough and funnily enough Jaryd and Stuart were right behind us!

Our destination, north to Taxco. The city is heavily associated with silver, both with the mining of it, along with other metals, and for the crafting of it into jewellery, silverware and other items. I was going to have to keep an eye on Fe and the wallet!

It was a short walk from the bus station to our hostel. A Dr Juan Antonio was running the show. He's was a bit like the mad Dr Nikolas Van Helsingwas from the Cannonball run!

As we felt the cobbled streets beneath our feet again it was easy to switch back to the more easier side of Mexican living. This is the real Mexico. Birds tweeting, locals chatting, us replying where we could, all under the shade of the Plaza Borda zocalo, oh and another beautiful twin towered baroque wedding cake of churches standing guard over the plaza. We are far from religious but however many of these churches we faced they never seemed to fail or disappoint from the outside or from within.

This is the sort of Mexico we wanted to see. Not a Mexico creation for holiday camp lovers. Whilst small Mexican towns like Taxco remain as they are we can confidently say we will never look to return to Acapulco. Ever. These kind of small towns give you more of an insight into Mexican life than any amount of time spent in a place like Acapulco.

The town is located high into the hills at 1755m above sea level. There are some seriously steep narrow streets and walkways that all seemed to divert into the main zocalo. Due to it's steep setting many many VW Beetles vroom from street to street ferrying around locals, produce and well anything that can be fitted into these fantastic looking fun cars. It seemed at times they were the only type of car in the town.

A bit like San Muguel we arrived into Taxco at the weekend. But instead of being greeted by a Mexican wedding this time we were greeted with not 1 but 2 funerals. The coffins were carried through the village's very steep streets with trailing family, friends and not forgetting the enthusiastic Mexican band bringing up the rear. Making a sad situation into a more celebratory one of a past life. The queue of honking V-dub beetles on this occasion just had to wait!

We spent the afternoon exploring the cobbled lanes, licking ice creams in and around the zocalo and photographing beetles zipping in and out of this charming little square. We bought two paintings from an old chap, Celestino.  He had lived on the streets of Taxco since the age of 4. When the Americans arrived into Mexico in the 40's a small colony started up English lessons so he went along. Consequently his English was fanastico! We sat and talked for ages about his passion for artwork, world wars, the state of Mexico today and how crime has become to dominate the country's headlines. Celestino now believes that the criminal gangs in operation today are far more powerful that the police and the federal government put together. All this while  Fe took time in deciding which paintings to take home, flicking through Celestino´s 90 plus collection of original art. Lovely, lovely chap.

With the disappointment of Acapulco still grinding in our minds we ended up discussing it with a few other bods we crossed paths with in Taxco, just to see if it was us. Thankfully it wasn't as many recently had seen it just the way we had. Harley rally aside, most seemed to think the place is now way out of control.

With the rainy season just starting, that evening we were treated to a spectacular thunder & lightening show followed by heavy rain. With it so hot and dry in the day the rain must be very welcome by many.

Fe had an unlucky day, she was pooped on by a bird, soaked by a lady cleaning her balcony and then questioned by the police in the Zocalo as to why she was in Mexico!

The great escape

If the revving of the super-bikes didn't keep us awake the thumping disco below that ran till 8 am did!  So with no a sign of Mr Collins, and to be fair even if he came back now with a load more sacks of cash I would say he would be pretty disappointed, we were sooo back on the bus.


We sorted out our onward journey but that was easier said than done as the bus service that runs out of Acapulco only has a Spanish website. It also came with a 5 minute eject period to confirm the tickets so all rather testing.

We got chatting with 2 Aussie lads, Jaryd and Stuart from the Gold Coast, who were fellow inmates at our prison/hostel. They both were surfing their way down the west coast of the USA, Mexico and then south America. So far they had certainly had some pretty mad adventures as their normal mode of accommodation - rough camping in a tent!

We hit the beach for our last dip in the Pacific on our road trip. The next ocean we will in will be the Caribbean!  The beach was stacked out with locals, all enjoying a weekend tipple or three. We laughed at the beachside restaurants and bars. Shabby wouldn't come close to describing them. This place really had gone from loco to lowlife.

As darkness fell the Harley rally again reached full swing providing a second evening of great entertainment. From the safety of our terrace 5 of us, Matt from Ocean Grove, Victoria, Oz, had also joined us, sat and watched leather clad men and minimal clad women thrust their bikes up and down the yet again closed streets. Traffic chaos ruled once again. It was like a scene from the cult movie Mad Max.

Loco in Acapulco

"You'll be pulling out your hair, drowning in despair, with a whole lot of nothing, on your way to nowhere.  Your search for paradise will come to an end, when you realise what a fool you've been"

Now here's a place that our guide books didn't have many positive things to say about, but we were happy to give it a go.  I mean what about.......

...."Going loco down in Acapulco, If you stay too long. Yes you'll be going loco down in Acapulco, the magic down there is so strong"

Most people, even if they have no clue where it is will have heard of Acapulco. Renowned as the playground for the rich and corrupt and with pirate activities in the main bay stretching back to the 1500s. In the 1940s Acapulco became famous for its spectacular cliff divers. Moving into the 50s & 60s it became the a getaway destination for Hollywood stars and millionaires. All resulting in the city becoming one of Mexico's oldest and well known beach resorts.

Come on the Planet that is Lonely, and the Guide that is Rough, how bad can it be? Or will be a case of......"Going loco down in Acapulco, if you stay too long".

Right that's way enough of the Four Tops, for now. Let's get into Acapulco de Juárez.

Coming into land at Acapulco the flight path took us up the edge of the Pacific coastline. A stretch of beach that seemed to run forever. Inland the odd high-rise white blob hotel here and there but mainly palm trees dominated the landscape giving a real tropics feel. Our tropic thoughts stayed very much with us as we exited the airport as the first thing we noticed after heading further south was the increased humidity. Acapulco is renowned for it's seething humidity due to it being framed by the Pacific and foothills of the Sierra ranges.
Up till now our Mexican destinations have all had a dry desert like heat. Here though you're greeted with a hazy sky and very sticky air.

Now any hostel was going to be a come down after Minnesota Jeff's place. But our chosen digs, bang centre of Bahia de Acapulco facing Playa Condesa beach, were pretty rough. Though the staff where friendly enough and the location was pretty good, the building itself pushed it right up there with the best of them on our list of "the worst hostels ever". You could say the interior had a similar appearance to that of a prison. Our cell, sorry room, was more like a Japanese capsule style hotel room. Once in the room at full stretch you could almost touch all four walls! Rucksacks and us inside it was pretty snug.

Having not arrived until mid afternoon we headed for the Malecon beach front for a stroll on Acapulco's sweeping bay, which after 2 hours of bumbling roughly takes you across the bay to La Quebrada Cliffs. The home of the famous Acapulco Cliff High Divers.

Strolling along the Malecon we became more and more gobsmacked at the sights we were seeing This place was seriously rundown, far from loco. We did our best to dodge every mode of transport going, 6 lanes of solid smog belching traffic that's so noisy it makes talking almost impossible. As for fresh sea air, not a chance. The impact of these 6 lanes alone seems to infuse chaos into the heart of this place. It was gridlocked, solid, in all directions.

The Acapulco Malecon seemed to be the place to dump any unwanted beach equipment. Flooded, some completely sunken, half wrecked speed boats from previous seasons. An amount of rubbish, mainly plastic in type, that you're more likely to see at a recycling depot back home! Which of course will all end up in the sea following their heavy seasonal rains. Then there's the extremely persistent hawkers that for whatever reason all seem to think they have just what your life is lacking. Not forgetting the federal police and military presence that is stationed on every corner carrying semi-automatic machine guns, this city is still very much at the mercy of the drug cartels and trafficking fed by the bay's main shipping routes to Columbia in the south and San Diego in the north, the far east and the world beyond.  You getting the picture?

On reflection we would view this place as more run down and unstable than Mexico city. So our reward for our act of bravery in making it to beachside across 6 lanes of mayhem? Grotty shop after grubby bar, a strong look of the "good-times" of the past that have now long gone. All comparable to any very run down seaside town that's having a very bad year. Welcome to Acapulco! This time it does look like the normally cup-half-empty travel writers have summed this one up dead right.

So after a fume-filled 2 hour stroll along a very disappointing stretch of coastline, we made it to the La Quebrada Cliff Divers. This world famous narrow inlet is just slightly away from the chaos of the city which did seem to lean slightly towards the Mexico we'd experienced for the last few weeks. A small town feel dotted with street vendors, hawkers and local families enjoying the evening sun.  These famous clavadistas (cliff divers) of La Quebrada have been dazzling audiences since 1934, swan diving with graceful finesse from heights of 25-35m into the narrow ocean cove below. To reach the dive points they walk the same steps as the cheering crowds that lead to the viewing point, high fiving

For the night dives all this is carried out to the sounds of Mexican party tracks with matching strobe lighting that certainly gets the crowd going, the lights did nothing to aid our night photography! The adrenaline that these guys are feeling at this point must be super- high. The bungy in New Zealand was a 43 metres, but this came with the safety of a large elastic band and was positioned centre of a huge valley, no where near the cliff edges or the need to calculate the jump to judge variable water depths in the landing zone below! This was a fantastic spectacle to watch and the tension pre-dive touched the whole Friday night crowd.

Understandably the divers pray at a small shrine before leaping over the edge, just as Elvis Presley did back in the 1963 flick Fun in Acapulco. At least three divers perform the 5 dives each day. Today being a Friday many divers had turned up and as a result the crowds were massive, hugging all along the surrounding cliffs tops that lead to La Quebrada's main square. Add in the street vendors and performers and the atmosphere was fantastic.

Today the divers are all professionals, many taking part in competitions and demonstrations worldwide. The inlet below La Quebrada is only seven metres wide and four metres deep. Unfortunately the dives are not without their accidents - there have been many broken bones. These boys, and some of them can't have been much older than mid teens, are ice-cool with immense bravery to plunge themselves head first into the crashing waves below.

We hung around for a couple of shows as once you're down on the cliff mounted viewing platform you can stay as long as you like. Plus a local family have built up a lovely little business in cooking up sopas, small savoury type pancakes, loaded with toppings of your choice, including the odd selection of chillies, of course. Goes without saying.

As the night hour edged into the wee hours we headed back to our hostel. Our ride home was a 2001 VW Beetle, with not one straight body panel. Only 16,000 registered on the clock, though I guess this could mean anything in Mexico. The trouble being though it had never made it out of the city's boundaries or 3rd gear!  The traffic was still bad, of Mexico City standards with 6 lanes of stationary traffic. Mainly V-dubs and Harley Davidsons making up the numbers. As we became acquainted with Husman, our driver, he mentioned that this weekend was Acapulco's annual Harley Davidson meet. Hence the Mexico city style traffic, mainly due to road closures. After a tour of dark, neighbourhood back streets, streets that most outsiders are told to avoid, day or night, imagine the sights through the shadows of darkness, we land, somehow, out front of the hostel. Genius.

For the next hour or so it's hard for me to explain the sights I saw. From the safety of the hostel terrace we witnessed the most crazy bike rally antics ever. One 3 lane section of the road outside the hostel had been closed off. Let's just say GP style track ready super- bikes had fully taken over the Harley meet. Bikes with engines bigger and more powerful than your average super-mini way out numbering the Harley cruisers easily 10-1. The main super-bike of choice seemed to be the bigger the better and as noisy as possible, looking like it's just come off a track day with Valentino Rossi. To complete the total look, if you didn't have a half naked girl stuck on the back, hanging on for dear life, well then you'd obviously come to the wrong event or maybe you didn't read the small print on the invite.

As the evening went on guys started to perform more and more tricks on these ridiculously sized bikes. Then there was the first guy to totally stack-in. From kerb edge to taxi side panel to coming to a rest in front of a applauding overexcited crowd. A failed maneuver that resulted in most of his fuel emptying out onto the roadside. With no one really running the event this slippery spill brought on 6 more accidents within the next couple of hours.The final image of the night for us, which will stick with us for sometime, was the reversing bin-men backing up the wrong way of a closed section of road where the main performance bike show was now in full swing. But panic not though as at the rear of the reversing truck was a guy waving a red t-shirt to warn approaching super-bikers!

To sum up our first loco day in Acapulco - just as the travel writers explained it, a bit of a dump and totally nuts. Well what did we expect from a city where the men dive from 40 metre cliffs into shallow tidal waters for a living. Thank goodness we weren't stopping for long.

Tomorrow it should be easier to walk the streets as surely overnight most of this biker lot will try to pull off one too many stunts resulting in a pretty long hospital stint.

Take to the skies

On this road trip, every now and then we've just had to take to the air to cover the ground required as quick as. For the last few days we have been sat facing out at Banderas Bay pondering over a 23 hour bus ride down the west coast. With some stops along the way where the bus station seemed to be the highlight! So for our 400 odd miles from Puerta Vallatra to Acapulco we booked two seats on a flight which 
compressed a 23 hour journey into a straight 4 hour one (and that was with a stopover back at Mexico city to pick up some post).  OK, so it´s not the greenest choice but time is no longer on our side !

Slow news day

The last few days haven't brought much that's really blog-able.  Lots a lazing around in the sun, walks along the beach, frappé margaritas, long beers and the odd bit of local shrimp. No unpacking and packing two days later. No sharing the kitchen with Kevin the teenager. No waiting for busses.

Will update as and when the pace changes.

R&R at PV

Puerta Vallerta - Mexico's gay capital! A magnet for North America/Canadians making it a tourist meca with a 80's sort of feel with a Mexican twist. So no more struggling with our Spanish, everyone seems to speaky da inglish in PV.  We also noticed that the local people are very different from the people residing inland. PV folk seem friendly enough as long as you are thinking of dinning at their eatery or drinking in their bar.
Our time here was lazy and battery re-charging which was most needed as since landing in Mexico it was go go go. Not complaining though as we were mucho glad to have absorbed so much of real "mexican life". Specially as, as with most countries, once you reach the coast line the real country's vibe disolves away into 2 for 1 and happy hour deals.
Minnesota Jeff's condominio is located within the old town part of PV, parked right on the beachside. Its won the 'best in bloom' building on the block. Flowers on every landing, terrace and balcony. All a bit of luxury for us - a roof-top pool, huge comfy bed (with no plastic cover!) a tv and even a stereo! Oh and a maid! Our balcony faced directly out onto the pacific, the dumpy waves echoed through the apartment. A flock of black pelicans, looking more like pterodactyls, feed just off shore, they flew passed our balcony before doing kamikaze diving into the sea for fish.

Locals say that Puerto Vallarta is fast becoming an international tourist destination.At the peak around 50,000 tourists arrive every month by air, thousands more by cruise ship, cars, and hourly buses that seem to all arrive and depart in unison even though they've arrived from a variety of distinations. Development is rapidly expanding both north and south of the city, though this is allowing the main old town area to maintain its village atmosphere. It's easy to see why many winter and permanent residents have been attracted from Canada and the USA as this part of town is picturesque with cobblestone streets and old whitewashed buildings. It's a city that's squeezed between palm covered mountains and the sea. It has restricted development along the water so at least you still get the feel the coast line still rules. The back drop mountains generate cooler breezes at night which seems to freshen everything up for the following lazy day.

We had a rare luxury that we haven't had since Asia, a meal out, and we went full tilt. Starting with large margaritas then pulling into a expensive looking place right on the beach. Good wine, good food, Fe in a frock, and me in a shirt. Our starter, guacamole, was made fresh at our table, the real deal. Followed up with shrimp and a bottle of South American extra cold white. Not a taco or pile of pasta in sight! Sunset wasn't too shabby either.

Mexico's Riviera

Most of the west's coastline is a narrow plain between the interior highlands and the sea. The terrain can be nearly desert-like to sub-tropical jungles and everything in between, including palm fringed beaches.

Our final leg was out west to reach the pacific, and for the first time there were other "whities" on the bus. Plus Danny Davito's double struggling down the central isle with a rather oversized esky. The media would probally tag him as "drug smuggler". After the 5 hour bus ride he pulls out his rods from the trunk, he's just off fishing for the weekend. No drugs required.

Following a bit of online research we've managed to sort a condo on the beach at Puerto Vallerta for a few days via "Jeff" in Minnesota. Recently the combination of constant moving on and sharing living space at hostels was taking its toll. . It was time "road trippin" kicked back a little and recharged.

As we edged west away from the city the highway passed through craggy mountains dotted with cactus of all shapes and sizes. Huge bulls roaming free through millions of agave shrubs all riping up nicely pre-harvest, a typical Mexican landscape. As we drove further west the sky became a more clear deep blue, something that was pretty rare back in the much over populated cities.

Finally the catus scattered Sierra de Vallejo mountains gave way to larger settlement villages which then lead us through towns where the roads were lined with swaying palm trees. Finally we could see and smell the coast.

One Tequila, two Tequila, three Tequila, floor!

If you're visiting the Guadalajara region you really can't pass off the opportunity to visit one of the many tequila factories located in - surprise! - Tequila Town.

From Guadalajara the drive took us through miles of the spikey bluey green agave, which, despite rumors to the contrary, is not a cactus. This succulent is part of the lily. Thoughts take me to our garden, I wonder if 'cousin it' has made it through our year off ?

Mexican laws state that tequila can be produced only in the state of Jalisco and limited regions within 4 surrounding states only. One being that of Guanajuato. Mexico has also claimed the exclusive international right to the word "tequila", threatening legal actions many times against would be manufacturers in other countries. Pretty much like champagne, and certain fine whiskies, the region reserves the right to call this alcoholic liquid Tequila. Basically if it ain't produced in one of these 4 states it ain't tequila.

Tequila is a municipality in Jalisco a mere bus hop from Guadalajara centre. You could say the fame of this sleepy farming region is all down to the birthplace of the Tequila drink. The region contains a number of farms that house small distilleries. These farms now conduct many tours of the fabrication process as well as tours further out into the fields where the blue Agave plant is actually grown. The blue agave plant being the main ingredient from which Tequila is made. The plants are harvested, normally by hand, by the jimadores, who have generations of knowledge of the plants and the ways in which they need to be harvested. The pinas, Spanish for pineapples, weighing 40 to 70 pounds, are then cut away with a mega sharp flat spade like tool come knife called a coa. They are then steam cooked for hours, shredded around 4 times over and then distilled in large vats.

We got to taste a slice of the cooked agave. Although the sign says it tastes like yam, we found it much sweeter, almost like raw sugar cane, but with a tequila aftertaste.

The distilling process takes 4 days in summer 6 days in the winter. Then once through a final condensing process the loved or loathed liquor is then ready to go. We tried some of the liquid from the first distilled process that was at around 65-85% proof. This was prior to a dilution process with water to reduce its harshness. It was like rocket fuel!

100% agave can be stored for up to eleven months. It's normally stored in a white oak barrels. The La Marquesa distillery uses Kentucky oak. But other white oaks used are British and French. By using such
barrels it keeps the tequlia's clear appereance at 38% volume. The whole process is pretty similar to that of the process of wine.

Tequila village is small and non imposing with cute cobbled streets, where all things tequila are on offer in some way or another. We took a smaller tour of the Sauza Family Museum, unfortunately "no cameras" for this one. Nahhhhh. This small family run museum was essentially a collection of memorabilia, including paintings, old photos and ancient tools, all in the original Sauza family home. Of course there is the standard gift shop where you can purchase Los Abuelos Tequila and other items. The Sauzas sold their operation in 1988 to the Americans no less. Although Guillermo Erickson Sauza, a fifth-generation family member, recently began producing his own brand, Los Abuelos, using traditional techniques.

On the other side of the square is the Jose Cuervo distillery which has created a tourist experience they call Mundo Cuervo (Cuervo World). This is the home to the largest bottle of tequila in the world. 33 litres in total. It took 6 glass blowers to make the bottle. Well we did say all things in tequila are related in some way or another to the one thing.

And just when we thought that the instigation of booze was done for the day, we reach our lunch stop. A small restaurant perched high into the hills. Ice cold, chilli salted rimmed Margaritas on arrival. Which were to die for! We shared a table with Craig, a Canadian down in Mexico carrying out mechanical engineering audits. We hit common ground given my background but he was polite in his answers when I quizzed him on how the audits were going, well he would do, he's a Canadian. But it was pretty clear through all Craig's politeness the common theme was "there's a long way to go" in maintaining constant standards in these parts.
His expense account kept us in refreshments for a few hours, which was very kind of him and his unexpecting generous company. So as the 3 of us sat enjoyed lunch, the restaurant owner pointed out turkey vultures
circling high over the hot Mexican scrub gaining a free ride on afternoon thermals. The day seemed pretty done. But it wasn't.

Our final stop before home was for eggnog. Or known to some as Advocaat. We had no clue to whether this has a link to mec-e-co but what is for sure is its a drink that stirs up memories for most people. The Warninks Advocaat era. A drink you either love or hate. Most seemed to be getting it down ok! The bus was certainly buzzing on the route back to Guadalajara HQ.

The night two wheels ruled

Mexico has horrendous traffic. Everywhere you go it's chaos and it's not like they haven't got any spare space. I mean the country's huge. But at present cars, buses and trucks clog up nearly every last inch of road space, day and night. You can't walk one section of street without seeing or hearing a traffic queue. Oh yeah the Mexicans love to honk their horns at any given chance.

This night though, and every Wednesday at 11pm for around 2 hours local people gather at the base of city's obelisk. From here the "Paseo Ciclista Nocturno" guided bike ride is conducted. We aren't talking about just a couple of hundred, we are talking thousands. Tonights figure being 5541 to be exact. Oh yeah among this free, organised event a guy stands at the start with a counter and clocks numbers as you cycle by. The record attendance being over 7000 riders. Each week the route differs from the previous. Tonights route included some hills as tonight was a full moon. These elevated points were included by tour director Richardo Aceves as he wanted the riders to become closer to the moon to assist their connection to it. His words not ours. Spiritual types these Mexicans!

As you rode along you felt a feeling of freeness. Volunteers, dressed in lycra and donning halt signs on their forearms, ride on ahead of the group and stop any traffic as required. They have assistance from local police to hold back traffic at junctions so that the long daisy- chain of riders do not get split up. In a country that has, so say, so many problems, tonights atmosphere couldn't have be any further from the negative vibe this country seems to be surrounded by.

All ages turned out on all manner of bike. Parents and their kids, couples on tamdoms, guys on California cruisers, girls on old school vintage Raleigh shopper bikes, the youth on BMXs, doing tricks straight out of scenes from the film ET. What struck us was the smiles, laughter and ringing of bells.

Being colourful Mexico the whole event came with music. A number of guys had modified their bikes so that they could tow small but very loud stereo systems behind them. Tonights crowd pleasers seemed to be "rolling on the river" Creedence Clearwater Revival, "man I feel like a woman" Shania Twain and "beat-it" by the one and only M Jackson version, each receiving lound cheer as these songs came on the free-wheeling stereo. The cheering and jeering only just about drowning out the constant bell ringing and horn hooting and anything else come to think of it that made a noise to increase the carnival atmosphere.

This ride takes place week in week out. Tonight being the 196th ride. All arranged by unpaid volunteers along with a little bit of help from the local authorities.

Tonight the streets of Guadalara were definately owned by two wheels. Without a doubt this has been the best free thing we've done in a city throughout our entire trip.

Richardo keep up the good work

The smaller relation, Guadalajara

Guadalajara is second in size only to Mexico city. It's major contributions to the Mexican lifestyle include tequila, mariachi music and the broad rimmed sombrero.

Back on the bus, west bound, we slowly edged towards the pacific. First into Leon. Which looked pretty built up and overdeveloped. Shame we weren't hanging around as Ricky 'shake de hips' Martin was preforming live at Stadio Leon. With the excitable Mexicans I would imagine the crowd will go nuts when it comes to shaking their thang!

We spent a day on foot. Walking to the historic downtown of Guadalajara, the oldest section of the city. Here the oldest buildings are located and a large number of beautiful squares with water fountains.  Mercado Libertad, or Liberty Market to you and I, is Latin America's largest indoor market covering a area of 4000 metres sq, comprising of around 3000 stall traders. You could say a tourist's dream and nightmare, depending on your market point of view, all rounded into one true Mexican authentic shopping experience. A maze of everything you could ever need in wicker, oversized Jesus christ statues, gun holsters, sugar skull shaped sweets (ready to celebrate the day of the dead) and fluffy white bunny rabbits (worringly close to a fast food outlet).

Then we reached the butcher aisle. Every part of all sorts of animals hanging up, all sharing the air with the passing city traffic. All ready and waiting to be purchased and not a refrigerator to be seen. Seeing all the trotters, hanging heads and various unknown animal intestines didn’t really give us much of an appetite. "veggie" supper favoured that night!

Gridlocked Guanajuato

The Sterling Moss of Mexico took us to the central de autobuses this morning. We had no problem with this though as it seemed even San Miguel De Allende had a rush hour. It's a syndrome that seems to affect the world over, on Mondays especially.  After only an hour on the bus we arrived at Guanajuato. Stood out front of the Central de Autobuses, it was like a game of who's ever the furthest away from the taxi queue picks up the taxi first. Our oversized bags and fading British politeness helped us in the scrum to reach downtown. 

Guanajuato was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Zone in 1988. There are no traffic lights, no neon signs and no room for new buildings. Plenty of life, and traffic, in it's narrow streets which is why it didn't make the top spot over San Miguel. Just too busy.

Shoe-horned onto a narrow ravine it's a riot of colonial architecture. The streets run in close parallel along the steep sides of the valley. A tunnel was built to take the river under the city and prevent periodic flooding. Now an underground roadway the river runs deeper below ground. More tunnels have since been added resulting in the city having a network of underground tunnels that serve as roads making this place really quite a unique one in the world.

Our hostel was another beauty, even though we had to climb 100 steps to reach it, the views from the roof terrace made it worthwhile.  The city is built on very hilly ground, so virtually every point in the city is on a slant.

Super San Miguel de Allende

Leaving Mexico City seemed to be a pretty tight affair as prior to getting on the bus we went through airport style security checks right down to the body pat-down. Then just before the off each of us were individually filmed by a guy who walked up and down the isle with a video camera, what's that all about? And what then were "they" going to do with that footage? A rare free packed lunch though took our minds off some of these security measures.  There are two drivers for the coach the spare one sleeps in a separate trunk next to where the luggage is stored, until it's his time to drive! A space not for the claustrophobic type.

After 4 hours we arrived in San Miguel de Allende. Set on a steep hillside dominated by red rooftops and domed churches this is a picturesque town with a central tree lined plaza and the grand La Parroquia de San Miguel Arcangel cathedral bristling with turrets and spires. Not to disimilar to a wedding cake!  This town is completely untouched by time, cobbled streets and brightly coloured houses. When you walk around somewhere like San Miguel you just can't help but smile. A maze of cobbled streets and beautiful buildings. For every turn you take there is just more to make you smile. The views fill your mind and your memory card! If this was by the sea we would really struggle to move on.
 
We were here for the weekend. The streets were bustling, the squares lined with locals shading themselves under the trees. Saturday we caught a wedding in the church and Sunday there was a band playing and locals dancing. At 9pm the music stopped and the lights went out and we were treated to a lazer show with classical music with images bouncing off the church! Amazing!

Here men, wearing cowboy type hats, sing and dance freely in the square. Old women, who look soooo old you're affraid you'd knock them over, struggle with shopping bags. I'm not joking some of the San Miguel women are seriously old.  This place has given us a real insight to Mexican life. Not a drug baron in sight!  Just wonderful!

City walking tour with Gerson

'Hola!  Right hope were are all ready for the off. And that this morning everyone has taken their vitamin Ts (Tacos, Tortillos and Tequila). We will start de tour'.   Meet Gerson, a Chilango archeologist with a overbrimming oomph for all things Mexican.  We were off to a flying start.  Not many city centres have direct access to a historic pyramid site, once the home of the Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan, or the Tenochtitlan Sun Pyramid. This pyramid dominated the central area probably because it was around 50 or 60m high! As our eyes cast around the city's central square, most buildings are well below this height. This once Aztec pryramid was also called Templo Mayor and many other buildings that were associated with this temple surrounded the pyramid’s base. Gerson expressed great sadness that following the conquest of the Spaniards, the Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan was mostly destroyed.

From grand pryramids it was off to the Palacio Nacional.  Now we had already visited this building on our own and been impressed but then to go with an Chilango archaeologist brought a totally different experiance. Home to the Mexican Congress, hence the “Robo Cop” styled security guards on the first floor balcony, who Gerson openly bantered with, something we hadn't dared to at the time of our inital visit for the fear of being shot. This grand Palacio Nacional was constructed in the latter part of the 17th century. Gerson certainly was keen for all of us to engage with the many murals, which are well displayed around the interior that illustrate prominent scenes from the city's history.

In a quick skirt across the main square, dodging through the city's still protesting electrical engineer's tents and banners, brought us to a site of some rough looking ground. The exact spot where the original Aztec calander was found. Until one year ago a rather grand gold plate marked this spot. Then one barmy warm night it was stolen. These thieves had some nerve as not only is it in the centre of probably the most guarded location in Mexico its also right next to six lanes of traffic that never seems to reduce. 

We reach the site of the first and longest serving hospital constructed on the continent of America. Yes this hospital is located within the heart of a sprawling city, but this is no BRI! Although it did have a rather ugly 1970s extention glued on the side of it like a wart. But the majority of it was just stunning architecture.  It has served the needs of the sick and ailing since 1524. Originally called the Hospital de la Purisima Concepcion de Nuestra Senora (Hospital of Our Lady of the Purest Conception), it was built with the economic support of conquistador Hernan Cortes, so as to serve the needs of poor Spanish soldiers and Native Americans.  It seemed a odd choice of locations to visit but on leaving the site we both agreed it was well worth visiting for its sixteenth century stone arches and the mural by Orozco that depicts the encounter between the Spaniards and Native Americans. That again would have meant little without the help of a very enthusastic Chilango archaeologist

Next for a true Mexican drink.  A crowd of young Mexicans were carrying on behind a classic set of western swinging doors, the main entrance to this tiny colonial structure.  The Pulqueria La Risa, a pulque parlour, sits just around the corner from our hostel.  A place where we must have walked passed a fair few times but without Gerson leading the way we probably wouldn't have fancied venturing inside. Well the facade alone doesn't really emulate the spirit of "The Old Fox" kind of welcome.  We entered the normally uninviting "Pulqueria La Risa" to receive high fives and man-hugs.  We then found ourselves facing a shelf above the bar holding barrel shaped urns, just sitting there full of pastel coloured liquids.  Old timers generally like their pulque straight up.   The bar tender informs us that it's very common now that most pulquerías “cure” their pulque with various natural flavours to make the beverage somewhat more palatable, resulting in a milkshake like concoctions called “curados”. The menu may include such flavours as tamarind, guava, walnut and strawberry, and from time to time, beet (“for the heart”) and celery (“for diabetes”) make an special appearance. We ordered and took a seat.

Gerson informed us that no drink is more Mexican than pulque, not even the well known tequila or mescal. Pulque has been consumed by Mexicans since Aztec times and no fewer than four Aztec deities are devoted to the beverage. Fe was curious of its content as it was only just over the yard-arm. It is made from the same plant as tequila (the magical maguey), although pulque is not distilled.  Sometimes called drool, babylon, bear soup, white face, moustache broth, chalk and nectar of the gods. You could easily say pulque is the sort of drink you have to learn to like, probably because we had never tasted anything like it before. In its natural state, the white, viscous liquid slides down your throat pretty easy. It should only have an alcohol content similar to that of beer. Gerson commented on its healthy properties informing us is was one  step away from meat on the nutritional scale, as he dispensed another greenish version of the beverage into our tall mug glasses. Local students seemed to be keeping the young Pulque vibe alive. Gerson stated that the students visit the humble haunts like the Pulqueria La Risa as it will never be found in main line bars or clubs of Mexico City or even in cantinas, (A Spanish wine shop or bar).  Only 70 or so pulquerías remain in Mexico City, most are extremely rustic places with bathroom-tile facades and institutional green interiors.  Most venues are patronised by a handful of elderly men who tote their own containers to be filled. But in certain pulquerías that demographic is changing. As Gerson articulately put it, the Mexican youth have now collectively rediscovered the virtues of pulque and are more than happy with the scruffy vibe of the pulquería!  As we downed our last drops, a final look round brought my attention to a urinal behind a greasy curtain. A reminder that these places can certainly not be acused of losing any of their rustic, minimal hygienic ambience.   Before we left Gerson handed us a salt cellar, "take some salt off a wetted left thumb knuckle.  If not the rest of the afternoon you will feel as bloated as a hot balloon". We did as we were told and exited through the magical double swing doors, the sun hitting our eyes hard. 

Now for some food to soak up the pulqueria.  A cake shop!  We've been amazed by the amount of bakeries here.  This cake shop was epic.  the second floor was dedicated to grand celebration cakes, quite frankly putting Deila Smith in the shade. All sorts of shapes and sizes.

Last was the grandest post office ever.  Now this place looked like it could manage a simple task of redirecting ones mail! Fe queued at counter 3 to request details on how to set up a transfer from the still currently failing infamous Royal Mail, non-existing, redirection service.  The golden jewel of the Historical Centre of Mexico City, the Palacio de Correos. To you and I the humble Post Office but in Mexico City known as a Palace. A most brilliant example of the eclectic architecture of the the first years of the 20th Century in the city.  With all this gold detail it wasn't hard to understand that at the end of the XIXth century when Porfirio Diaz, the president of Mexico at that time, entrusted the project of a new post office building to a Italian architect, Adamo Boari and a Mexican engineer, Gonzalo Garita y Frontera.  From the exterior you're faced with bronze lamps, dragons and gargoyle faces.   The interior provides gold leafed back room marble clad areas,  where they simply sort mail!  I will think of this place next time I'm stood over-heating, in a 10 deep queue at our local PO branch facing many "positioned closed" counter signs at the busiest times of the day.  The construction of this magificant building started in 1902 and took five years to complete.  This building wouldn't look out of place in the middle of Italy or France.

Messing about on the river

Today involved braving the Mexico underground. We both have plenty of years practice of the London underground in the bag which clearly aided our challenge! Yeah sure we couldn't understand a word at the
tiny hole in the wall ticket style office, but hey these guys have the same alphabet and colours as us so we just followed the colours and place names and were home and dry.

First stop a spot of punting. Mexican style. As Mexico City’s urban sprawl connects otherwise unrelated towns throughout the Valley of Mexico, the area of Xochimilco is the last stop on the ‘Tren Ligera’, or Light Railway. After an easy-ish hour’s trip, we made our way to the canals with some guidance from random locals, for a ride on the colorful Trajineras along the canals of the former Lake Xochimilco.

Along its edge, the Aztecs, long before the Spanish came, dug a series of canals. They heaped the mud around the canals, these plots of land appeared like floating islands called chinampas - hence, their name

‘floating gardens’.  If there was any fruit and veg being grown in these gardens not quite sure that we would be up for eating it. If we thought the Mekong Delta was merky this canal won the crown.

Next was our culture fix and the Anthoplology centre. This museum contains significant archaeological and anthropological artifacts from the pre-Columbian heritage of Mexico, such as the Piedra del Sol (the Stone of the Sun, what has been incorrectly identified as the Aztec calendar) and the 16th-century Aztec statue of Xochipilli. This place was mega and we could have spent longer wandering around.

On route home we passed the legendary, huge, Azteca Stadium. The place were Mexican dreams are made and broken with the assistance of a small white leather ball. The underground was maxed out in rush hour. Personal space was crushed as we stood cheek to cheek with commutors.

One historious day out.

As we headed north out of the city, Ricardo weaving us through the mornings chaotic traffic, Pepe, our guide, gave us a run down of the day. It seemed that the wonderful Hostel Centro Historico had worked wonders in putting a small group of us in touch with Ricardo and Pepe. Both Chilango's (a term traditionally used to whom were born into the madness that is Mexico city).
Our first stop, Lazaro Cardeuas Y Manuel Gonzales Streets. (Three Cultures Square). The Plaza of the Three Cultures, known as the Plaza de las Tres Culturas symbolizes Mexico’s unique cultural heritage. Once the center of some of the most powerful Native American empires. Aztec, Mexico became a flourishing Spanish colony in the 16th century. Most Mexicans are Mestizos, persons with mixed European and Native American ancestry representing a third culture, thus the name of the area represents a mixture of all three cultures. This plaza is located at the ancient Aztec city of Tlatelolco where you can see it's ruins. You can also see the Colonial Cathedral of Santiago which dates back to 1524 (although it was rebuilt in 1609). With a sprawling city like Mexico it

 wasn't surprising to see that now this ancient city was being suffocated by many very ugly 1970s looking apartments and government buildings, only the ancient city was keeping them apart. Thankfully Pepe confirmed that this ancient city, dating back to 1325, was now being preserved and protected so in theary it should always be safe from developement. The structures which represent the Three Cultures are the ancient Aztec city of Tlatelolco, the Colonial Cathedral of Santiago, and the very ugly new addition towering, concrete building of the Secretaría de Relaciones Exteriores (Department of Foreign Affairs). An odd sight to see three structures of such contrast. All backing onto each other in the same location. Of course, in addition to these three buildings there were many other high rise blocks. And as the archeologists worked away at this acient site, residents of the nearest tower block used the now shared plaza for an aerobic class. 

The plaza is of an important site in Mexican history and it's where three terrible events took place. It was at Tlatelolco that on August 13, 1521 the Aztecs made their final stand against the Spanish army led by Hernan Cortes. It is said that 40,000 Aztecs died in the desperate struggle and their bodies clogged the local canals for days afterward. The battle is memorialized in the plaza by a plaque which reads in part, "Neither a victory nor a defeat, but the painful moment of birth of the Mexico of today, of a race of Mestizos". With that day came the end of the pre-Columbian era in Mexican history. The second tragedy, and one that more may recall, occurred on 2 October 1968 when Mexican soldiers, equipped with tanks and machine guns, fired into a crowd of 14,000 unarmed students who were staging a protest against spending on the 1968 Summer Olympics being held in Mexico City. A huge monument at the site lists the names and ages of the students who fell that day. The plaza was the site of more death on September 19, 1985 when an early morning earthquake caused a modern building adjacent to the plaza to collapse. For days thereafter tents were erected on the plaza as temporary shelter for some of those left homeless by the quake. The earthquake, which affected Mexico City, left at least 8,000 dead. In the name of history, anthropology and tourism, archeologists have only reveiled a small part of this ancient city, the Aztec city of Tlatelolco. The rest of this ancient city now intombed forever under the very ugly modern buildings that surround this famous plaza.

An hour later and we were back on the road and bantering about sporting history.  Mainly centring around football, clearly Pepe's sport of choice. We hit on Mexico's famous Estadio Azteca, Aztec stadium, the only stadium to host two World Cup Finals with a capacity of 105,000. That's some gathering of football minded types. The 1970 world cup, remembered for the ledgendry Pele years and of course the 1986 world cup with the hand of god Maradonna moment.

In just under a hour of the city we had already seen some great stuff.  On reaching Teotihuacan you could say the first thing you noticed getting out the bus was that the temperature had gone up a notch or 3.  Before exploring the pyramids we had a seemingly harmless 'exit through the gift shop' stop that was acting in reverse. Well this is Mexico. This trip through the gift shop experiance was like no other. Not only were we getting put through this experiance prior to the main tour, it also involved drinking copious amounts of tequila. Ranging from 18% to 42% in volume, it was 10:30am. No panic said the owner, as he added mixers of cactus juice or almond or of course a straight shot with just the salt and lime treatment as a side option. We will leave you to work out the strongest and nicest of the three!? Standard rule applied here, all drinks had to go down in one only after successfully completing the "tequila dance". Remembering that we were all stood in a shop. Well it was one way to get the overseas lot to spend out. We came away with a couple of treasures. Ten minutes more and things could have been a hell of a lot worse as the tequila was making it's move north to the brain. Funnily enough all back on the bus the volume had gone up a tad as we made our merry way onto our next historic site.

This short journey took us though colourful districts, none of which you would want to amble round on your lonesome. Each village seeming to have it's preferred choice of merchandise ranging from very large speaker boxes for cars to refurbished oversized tube style TVs sets. Ever wondered where all the non-digital TVs have ended up? Well here's your answer, small remote villages in Mexico. All this was broken up with what looked like brightly coloured schools and community centres. What was constant was the sprall of housing, very basic housing at that, stretching from the highways to as far as you could see right up into the mountains. Only seeming to stop where the mountains became too steep to build on. If you could term this as building. Housing that was just about standing, mainly being supported by neighbouring shacks. This is how Mexico city is constantly growing. People being typically drawn to the bright lights of a city from the countryside for work and a better way of life. A thought process that looked to be failing miserably. Most people make their way to areas like this from southern mexico. In the past many of these people would have fled to the US for work. Not anymore though. All houses built in these areas are constructed with no planning and no services. Some, if not many will be living in slum like conditions in a lawless community. Pepe mentioned that the only way these settlers had a chance to obtain services was if a group of neighbouring people get together to jointly fund connections. Once you are luckily enough to pitch up at a patch of free land the ownership is granted once you have been on it after only 5 years, although here is where the coruption starts. A country joined at the shoulders with the mighty USA, but what a contrast to the way of life being led. Oh yeah, then there's the highway check points where you see guards with the biggest guns we've ever seen at the side of the road. The gun of choice seeming to be the shotgun!

Teotihuacan, The City of the Gods, is Mexico's first great civilisation city where an estimated 125,000 people resided between AD250 and 600.  Probably was the biggest pre-Hispanic Mexican empire.  It is home to some of the largest ancient pyramids in the world, the huge Piramide del sol, (pyramid of the sun) and the almost as big Piramide de la Luna, (pyramid of the moon), both of which were sat there crying out to be scaled.  So with little or no shade we set off for this archeological complex of awesome pyramids set amid what was once Mesoamerica’s greatest city.  According to legend, it was here the gods gathered to plan the creation of man. Scaling some of these pyramids in the mid day sun and at Mexico's altitude of 2,240 metres (7,350 ft) was some going. These mass structures were all built by hand without any machinery and the detailed scuptures alone on each pyramid were carved out without the use of metal tipped tools. When we hit the top of these bad boys it was quite a rare moment of silence for a group that had been drinking tequila some 3 hours earlier. But at least all this legwork eased us into accepting an great mexican lunch offer. An all you can eat which included some fantastic chilli based sauces, catus relish, which was lovely, chicken in a Mexican chocolate sauce, real gucamole, potato tacos, fresh salad by the bucket load, more chillies, more enchiladas and quesadillas than you could actually eat in any one sitting to name but a few dishes. With all this on-board how we ever made it up the second pyramid of the day, the Piramide de la Luna, (pyramid of the moon) is a wonder. Only the gods may know. At the top we were rewarded with some awsome views. Looking straight down the main avenue of terracing made you imagine how it must have been to live here back in the day.

Our third and final Mexico city maneuver of the day was the Basilica of Guadalupe located on Tepeyac Hill, just North of City. This is the site of one of the most visited churches in the world, in fact the second most visited church in the world, after St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican. The Basilica of Guadalupe is a shrine in Mexico City that is an important Catholic pilgrimage site. The original image of Our Lady of Guadalupe from the 16th Century is housed in this basilica. Mexico's greatest pilgrimage is done in honor of the Virgin of Guadalupe every December 12, commemorating the day when the Virgin of Guadalupe appeared before Juan Diego. The Basilica of Guadalupe receives millions of pilgrims who travel for days from their place of origin throughout the country.

A brief history of Lady of Guadalupe, bare with us:- Lady of Guadalupe (also called Our Lady of Tepeyac or the Virgin of Guadalupe) is a manifestation of the Virgin Mary who first appeared on Tepeyac Hill outside Mexico city to a native Mexican peasant named Juan Diego way back in 1531. She asked him to speak to the bishop and tell him that she wished for a temple to be built in her honor. The bishop required a sign as proof. Juan Diego returned to the Virgin and she told him to pick some roses and carry them in his cloak. When he went back to the bishop he opened his cloak, the flowers fell out and there was an image of the Virgin on his garment. To this very day Juan Diego's tilma, or cloak, with the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe is displayed at the Basilica of Guadalupe. Over 12 million visit the Basilica every year. Juan Diego was canonized in 2002, making him the first indigenous American saint. So as you can image it can get pretty packed at certain times with all this pilgrimaging going on.  To ease overcrowding and reduce queues at the sacrid spot a four lane escalater has been installed to move you under the high-mounted original of the 480 year old Juan Diego's tilma (cloak) together with the image of Lady of Guadalupe. Despite the escalator technology there still seemed to be a back up going on. Some were just going continuously back and forth on this small escalator.

It´s a question of choice

Well it´s official, the beer here is cheaper than bottled water.  Tonight I am so dehydrated!

Habla usted ingles ?

Mexico is eight times the size of the UK and has a population of over 111 million.

In 1521, Spain conquered and colonized the territory from its base in México-Tenochtitlan, which was administered as the Viceroyalty of New Spain. This territory would eventually become Mexico as the colony independence was recognised in 1821.

Nothing really can prepare you for turning up at a country that is as explosive and passionate as Mexico.

Our first taste of Mexico City, through our taxi windows, gave us a snip of what was in store for us for the next 4 weeks.  Flashing police lights seemingly going off at each street corner. Crazy, out of control traffic squeezing it's way through tiny streets that were built well before the motor vehicle ruled. These narrow streets are then penned in by lovely antique balcony fronted buildings that butt right up to the streets edge. Everything that's great about old looking stuff just sat there on show for all to see right almongst a city of utter organised traffic chaos. 

Mexico City (central district) is home to roughly 24 million people. The worlds biggest city, only 2nd to Tokoyo at a staggering 27 million. Mexico argue though that their city population is more constant as most if not all of Mexico city types live and work within the city district, i.e the total numbers in the city never really drop where in Tokoyo many head for the hills at night and at weekends.

If you chose not to go by road around the city you can opt for the metro. Not necessarily the easiler option as Mexico city's metro is the third active metro system in the world. Only NY & Tokoyo again beating the Mexicans to the top spot of people-overload.

Somehow though places like this definately enhance any traveller´s road trip. The drama, the unknown, the cultural differences, the language barriers, the cuisine - oh the cuisine.

So after some very dodgey Spanish dialogue we make it across the city from Benito Juarez airport to Reinga our base for the next few days. Impressed would be an understatement as we stood out front of Hostel Centro Historico. Was this really a hostel or a small boutique hotel? Wonderful and magnificent, after nearly 11 months of travel we find by far the most grandest hostel yet. This place had parquet floors throughout, vaulted high ceilings that would blend effortlessly into any French chateau. Our room, big enough to partake in a quick game of  squash, had huge floor to ceiling French doors that opened out onto a balcony where we spent the night dinning on street vendor tortillas, nachos and salsa with a side of the tastiest jalapenos ever. Oh and a chilled bottle of Corona with a slice of lime, a mere 49p!

Houston we don´t have a problem

Our first experience of Vancouver airport, as we had arrived by boat,was a very simple one. Like the Canadians themselves it was really very pleasent. The entire place was quiet and calm. Most passinger's dream.

The flight down to Mexico involved a transit stop at Houston. A pretty non-eventful flight as like with many other airlines Continential have decided that you need credit card in-hand to access absolutely anything onboard. Media, food, drinks. Oh no that´s a bit of a lie, both water and turbulance were free and readily available throughout. We worried we were going to have a Ryanair momement when approaching the toilet, just in case the door lock had been changed for a chip and pin device. As we pulled right over Vancouver we were treated to one final glimpse of the mountains that were holding on to their winter snow coats.