Pedaling with Pedro

9am sharp Berto and Pedro from Bicicletas Pedro Martínez was knocking at the hostel door. Outside a van loaded with everything we needed for a day in the saddle. Back in 2009, as part of the global celebration of World Environment Day, Pedro was presented with the ninth annual Colibri Ecotourism Award which finally recognised his small cycle business in Oaxaca City as a pioneering, responsible travel company supplying an eco focus tourism option successfully for the past 20 years.

The touring side of the business only started after a passing Canadian group of cyclists pulled into Pedros

bike workshop business in downtown Oaxaco for some repairs. On completion of the repairs the group asked Pedro if he knew of any good routes through the mountains and surrounding areas. Pedro being cycle-crazy said "yeah no problem I will close the workshop for one day and show you them". On completing the days touring the Canadians were more than impressed and joked with Pedro that he should consider doing tours as part of his business. Pedro laughed as he thought it wasn't really a viable business. Some 20+ summers later, you can see that Pedro is very happy in that he's made a very successful business out of his true passion - cycling. Pedro now a little older is support van driver whilst the younger, fitter Berto is cycle guide.

So out of the city, and for some reason Kraftwerks "Tour de France" music stuck in my head, our first stop Santa Maria del Tule. A town famous for the ancient 2000 year old tree, known as one of the widest trees in the whole world. On this trip we've seen plenty if big trees. But this beaut, well, she was wide alright!

Into the saddles we zig-zagged through the neat Mexican countryside. Crops already sewn catching some early sun prior the start of the wet season. After passing through many small settlements, most with the most picturesque of churches, neat plaza's, a small school of somesort and of course the abligitory coca-cola branded corner shop, we reached the town of Teotitlán Del Valle.

This old Zapotec town is known for its rugs and other hand crafts made of wool. Out the saddles we took in a drinks stop and popped into a work shop owned by a Zapotec family that has a long tradition as rug weavers. Josefina and her family gave us a very unique demonstration about the process of making a rug, we had a go, its easier than it looks! We learnt on how they get the colors (all natural) and how they turn the wool into string etc. Josefina explained that it takes 4 sheep to fill a basket and 4 baskets make one small rug. The average size rug takes around 2 weeks to make, that is as long as tourists don't try to get too hands-on!

At Tlacolula de Matamoros town we'd completed around 40kms at 1550m above sea level. For lunch we climbed right into the mountains at 2600m, luckily by van and not by bike as the path across the valleys was as steep as and very windy. Going up it was a case of don't look right! At a local "Comedor", a small family run restaurant near Hierve el Agua we pulled in for lunch were Doña Alicia and her lovely family made us very welcome. We took some shade and enjoyed chatting with Berto and Pedro about everything Mexican, from different types of tourists they meet, to the country's state regarding income and how Pedro and Bento thought the future may pan out. They spoke of their primary income concerns for Mexico, mainly that of monies earnt by Mexicans in the USA that is then sent home. This work being both legal and illegally sourced, that is if they successfully make it back and fourth across the now extremely danagerous boarder that separates these two very different countries. Secondly, petroleum, though thought to be dirter and not as

pure as oil found in the rest of the Americas, the oil industry in Mexico is pretty big business. Thirdly the tourist trade. A trade that seems to increase and decrease like the change of tide due to media focus on security concerns based on drug cartels or over zelus protesting. Both Pedro and Berto agreed that whilst incomes remain in this way the goverment will continue to do very little, if anything at all, regarding the funding of new industries and general social welfare of the average Mexican. This brought us to the state's protesting teachers. A career that pays very well in Mexico Pedro informed as. Lunch entailed - stringy cheese wraps and sopas all cooked up at 2600 feet on a open fire with large hotplate. With food served Pedro reached down and pulls up a eski full of cool beers and sodas. Not sure if he was more pleased with this act or us!

Fully fed and watered we headed for the petrified waterfalls. A short but steep hike that took us firstly below and then onto the natural pools, Berto pointing out things we should and should not touch along the way! The views across the skyline were fantastic. On reaching the pools a quick temp test, strip down and we were in. Felt good after that ride and what a view. You just can't beat outdoor pools. As we sat and soaking large birds of pray drifted effortlessly through the valley. It was such a peaceful and quiet spot.

We thoroughly enjoyed our day with Pedro and Berto and seeing isolated Mexican village life. Even if we were a little saddle sore!

Enjoying Oaxaca

The feeling here in Oaxaca is totally little different to the other states we have visit. It has a far more indigenous communities. The appearence and attitude of the locals is very different. There are tuk-tuks, which we haven't seen since Asia, ferrying people through the very colonial streets. Different food types are more widely available other than just staunch Mexican. The locals mannerisms are far calmer with the pace of life being more chilled. Same cant be said for the traffic though, well this is Mexico. Sadly cars and buses pack the roads here also.

We hunted out Bicicletas Pedro Martínez. Pedro, the owner and main guide of this cycle tour company, is one of the most recognized athletes in Mexico. A past world champion in duathlons, ex-national team road cyclist and national champion mountain cyclist. Inside a great looking, well stocked bike-workshop, oh the amount of cycle toys here for sale was dangerous. We booked our tour, with a little help from "google translate", with the very funny and extremely helpful Fransisco, who took much care and time kitting us out with all the necessary cycle gear we would ever need plus a demo ride checking that we where happy with our chosen bikes. 

Back to sight seeing and the Museum of the Cultures of Oaxaca. Another fantastic museum and amazingly beautiful building with views over a cactus-tastic botanical garden. The museum is located in the ex-convent of Santo Domingo de Guzmán, one of the most relevant historic monuments of the country, because of its architecture and history.  To our delight there was a photo exhibition of the golden eagle. The coat of arms of Mexico depicts a Mexican Golden Eagle perched upon a prickly pear cactus devouring a snake. The photos were brilliant!

We spent the early evening sat in the square under the shade of a tree watching local couples dance to a local band. Some great moves were going down!

Southwest to Oaxaca

Oaxaca (wah-hah-kah) is both the name of the state and the capital city within this state. The largest city of Mexico. Located 300 miles southwest of Mexico city and a 6 hour journey by bus for us. Nee problem for us fully induced bus travelling types. Isolated from other parts of the country by rank after rank of rugged mountains, these lands contain a traditional, mysterious, strongly indigenous influenced side to Mexican life that has almost vanished in more accessible regions. The region is famed for it's coffee, chocolate, chillies and sugar cane. Ah yeah, and protesting teachers! We've promised the girls back at the Mexico city hostel some chocolate, so we better get on and do some research so we can pick up a nice one! Once out of the seemingly never ending Mexico city, and prior to the twists and turns of the Sierra Norte ranges, we passed through some very flat, neat farm lands at the foot of these imposing mountain ranges. In the early morning sun most crops were being tended by hand. Field after field of folk bent over at right angles. Only the heavier stuff being carried out by horse or bull and cart. The sight of tractors and other 21 century farm machinery was a rarity. The age of the farm hands seemed to range from kids right up to the eldery.

At the state boarder we witnessed the first sighting of the protesting teachers. On each approach to the boarder entrance and exits teachers stood in line next to the shotgun weilding security personnel. The Oaxaca teachers are protesting about wages. We were informed that even in this relatively poor state teachers live a very comfortable life, way above the average Mexican with many teachers owning a couple of houses and cars and fequently holidaying overseas. On arrival in the city we were disappointed to see that the entire Oaxaca zocalo had been taken over by these unhappy teachers. This country is soooo like France. If they do not agree with a certain goverment policy they just take to the streets for either a march, or as we've experianced, a mass sit-in peaceful protest. The inner square and pedestrian areas looked more like a refugee camp than the normal sleepy zocalo we'd become accustomed to! So for now the city's cultural centre square was acting as a stand-in sleepy zocalo area. And not a bad alternative it was either. A space that felt totally different from the demostration area of the city. Students laze around in small groups chatting and playing the odd game of chess. Couples meet for lunch and share coffees and discuss morning activities. The great feeling within these plazas is that everyday seems to feel like a Sunday. It's great to see communities utilise these great comunial spaces that have been handed down through the generations.

Most nights there was either a band or some sort of local show where musicans normally entice people to get up and dance or just generally join and have fun. Culture square also brought to us the new taste sensation that is salty-chilli-popcorn. A possible snack for future pending "film-club" nights back @ 108?

Standing guard over this magnificant space was the church De Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzman. Some serious bling in this place, more gold than Jimmy Saville! In 1993 it was decided that the church would be fully restored. Its highly decorated interior used no less than 60,000 sheets of 23.5 carat gold leaf!

Tonight the footie was on, Mexico vs New Zealand. Though we think it was only a friendly warm up game, this city was getting ready for the sport they adore. So we found a lovely little restaurant with a match deal on and got settled in. What was really funny as when Mexico were close to scoring a goal the cry of 'Si, Si, Si' would fill the air. Or even better when they scored out came the customary greatly extended gooooooooooooooaaaaaallllllll which everyone in the restaurant stopped whatever they were doing, staff and chef included, to join in the celebrations. We had a window seat and every now and then a chilly breeze trickled through the window! We have really noticed the difference in temperature from being in the mountains. The mornings and evenings have a wee nip! It felt great.

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