I`d read that San Miguel was a very beautiful town and I wasn`t disappointed as I arrived at midday, riding through a labyrinth of winding, cobbled streets. The beauty of the town was also reflected in the price of the hotels. It was obviously a popular tourist destination.
Once I`d settled in and followed the usual wifi routine, I caught a taxi to the centro historic and spent a pleasant, but very hot, couple of hours walking the streets and choosing which restaurant to have dinner in that night. San Miguel is a beautiful town, filled with magnificent churches and is small enough to be able to see everything on foot. Having got my bearings, I came back to the hotel, worked on my blog and waited for the sun to go down before heading back to the centre.
The centre piece of the town plaza is La Parroquia, a parish church famous for its Neo Gothic exterior which is lit up at night. When the sun sets, the town buzzes with activity as people congregate around the plaza and Mariachi bands wander the streets, serenading anyone with a few pesos to spare.
It`s a place I`d like to have spent longer in, but the next day I was due in Mexico City. Mexico City was never going to be on my route through the country, because it`s one of the world`s biggest cities, around 20 million people live there and I`d heard how difficult it was to ride through and how dangerous it could be, so obviously I would circumnavigate it with a safer, simpler route. That is, until I saw a posting on “Horizons Unlimited” (a website for motorcycle travellers) from an Englishman called Garry, who offered to accommodate motorcyclists for free if they were brave enough to come and visit! He offered to meet me outside the city and guide me in. It was too good an offer to pass up. I`d get to see a amazing city, a chance to change my tyres, service the bike, and spend some time in the company of a fellow Englishman and motorcyclist!
At the appointed time, I met up with Garry at a BMW dealership about 40 mins from the city. As is the norm, I arrived early (just to be on the safe side!) and took the opportunity to pick up an oil filter, air filter and a change of oil. After finding somewhere to put all this new stuff on the bike I followed Garry for the “interesting” ride into the city. I would never have found his place by myself. Every little road seemed the same. Garry had warned me that the area was not the most salubrious and so when we entered “Graffiti City” I wasn`t surprised. There wasn`t an inch of wall or garage door that escaped the aerosol. Certainly a colourful environment! By the time we`d negotiated heavy traffic through narrow streets and climbed impossibly steep twisty roads I was sweating heavily to say the least. When we pulled up outside Garry`s garage, I breathed a sigh of relief,
“I bet you could do with a cup of tea?”
Perfect! An Englishman`s panacea! No matter what`s happened or happening, a good cup of tea always saves the day!
I was fascinated as to what brought an Englishman from Potters bar to Mexico City? He`d met his Mexican wife Yvon back in England in the 70`s and decided to move out to Mexico where they built the house they`re still living in when all they had were dirt roads. We dropped off all my gear and Garry suggested we should go and sort out the tyres. Tyres are expensive and difficult to get hold of in Mexico, but Garry had sourced some at a very reasonable price. Yvon drove us all the way across the city (and it`s a big city) to a little out of the way bike shop. It took over an hour through very heavy traffic to get there. I held on tightly as Yvon negotiated the traffic like a rally cross veteran (not only an excellent driver, but later I discovered an immensely talented sculptress!) I quickly discovered there`s a real skill involved in driving around Mexico City! Job done.
Next stop was a quick sight seeing tour of downtown Mexico City and the Zocallo (main plaza) where everything was gearing up for the big Independence Day celebrations.
There is a lot of talk about how dangerous the city is, but I have to say I found it a fascinating place and no more dangerous than London or any big city. Admittedly, it did help having Yvon as tour guide filling me in on the history of the place.
Since arriving in the Mexico, I`d become increasingly interested in the history and evolution of the country and the rich legacy of the Aztecs, Mayans, Zapotecs, and Teotihuacans. Also, I was under order from Garry to brush up on the build up to independence and the revolution for the quiz which would take place on the big night!
After a very cultural day in the city we headed back and I suddenly began to feel very weak. I guessed it must be dehydration, coupled with the altitude and humidity, or it just could be the stressful ride in! Either way, I was ready for my bed that night. It was nice not to have to worry about getting up early and hitting the road again for a couple of days. Even the torrential downpours didn`t disturb my sleep that night. The following day was cloudy, overcast and humid. Classic September weather, and just right for our visit to the Pyramids located outside the city.
I admit to knowing nothing about the existence of Pyramids before my arrival in Mexico. The site is quite spectacular and justifiably a major tourist attraction. The Teotihuacans had created a huge city around 500 B.C. and most of it is still intact including two major pyramids, one of which is the world`s third largest outside Egypt. My energy levels were still depleted and after climbing several pyramids I was feeling it. The three months on the bike and away from the gym were beginning to take their toll. Nevertheless, it was real privilege to visit such an historical site. I went to bed fairly early that night and prepared myself for a big day of bike maintenance the next day.
First job was getting the tyres changed. Garry knew a little garage close by where we took both my wheels and the new tyres. I watched anxiously as a young boy (well he looked about 14 yrs old) hammered and stamped on my precious wheels as he tried to remove the old tyre. Garry just stood their grinning!
“Don`t worry. He knows what he`s doing. They do this at the BMW garages, you just don`t see it” He added (unconvincingly, I thought!)
I must admit I felt like an expectant father waiting for a birth. After an agonising 20 minutes the job was done. Still expecting the inner tube to be pinched and flat by the morning, we bundled the tyres into Garry`s car and I paid the 150 pesos and said adios. Garry shared a private joke with the owner something along the lines of “Let`s hope they make it to Argentina!”
When we arrived back at Garry`s it was my turn to sweat some more. An oil and filter change isn`t normally a big dea,l but on the 650 it`s a bit more complicated. Coupled with the fact it was only the second time I`d done the job on this trip it was going to be a long day! I had to be methodical, remembering what Tony, my mechanical mentor from home, had told me about keeping everything in one place so as not to lose things. My biggest fear was what I call the “Ikea Syndrome” – you know the situation, you put together a flat pack piece of furniture and always have a couple of screws left over!
Garry watched with fascination as I sweated and cursed in the increasing temperature> I don’t know whether he was inspired or what but he suddenly said,
“I think I`ll change my oil too”
In 20 minutes he`d finished, while I was still struggling, this time with a stubborn air filter hat seemed reluctant to fit in. After nearly a whole afternoon I was eventually finished. Feeling very hot and sweaty but quite proud and wondering where I would be in another 5/6,000 miles when It would need doing again.
The next day I took Garry up on his offer to spend some time with him at work. He is the principal of a school teaching English as a foreign language, and I was interested in seeing how it was done. This involved a 50 minute ride through the city trying to hang on to Garry as he weaved in and out of the manic traffic on his little Suzuki 125 (bought specially for the job!)
I spent the morning wandering around the shops looking for a new wrench (having broken my old one taking off the front wheel) and trying to find an external hard drive for my netbook whilst dodging the now expected thunderstorms.
In the afternoon I sat in on three classes of different abilities and was impressed by the system and capabilities of the students. Garry was obviously doing a first rate job! The next day was the big “Independencia” celebrations which were scheduled to begin at 11.00 p.m. (I know, way past my bedtime!), so the morning was spent in search of beer to celebrate a very rare occasion. This proved more difficult than you might think. If there was s major celebration in England, every off licence would be bending over backwards to relieve you of your money, but in Mexico, on this day it is illegal to sell alcohol!! (Remember the 6P`s? Proper planning ....).
I`d almost resigned myself to having a very dry evening (being the only person in Mexico who doesn`t drink Tequilla), when I happened upon a local shop who was willing to take the risk and oblige me with enough beer to keep me going through the night. I think she was touched by my heartfelt plea,
“Por favor! Lo necessito, para la celebracion de la Independencia!”
Now my only challenge was to stay awake long enough to enjoy the celebrations! Yvon had busied herself all day preparing the room and most importantly the food. Tonight we would eat traditional Mexican food and it didn`t matter how many people turned up, there would be more than enough to go around. People started arriving after 8.00 p.m. and Yvon insisted I blended in with the theme so I was daubed with the colours of the Mexican flag on my face and eventually succumbed to the sombrero. An honorary Mexican for the night!
We watched the countdown to the official start of the celebrations (just like New Year`s Eve) and then out came the poppers and foam spray. The party had well and truly started. There followed many hours of eating, drinking and singing. Included in the celebrations was a birthday cake for Yvon whose birthday was the previous day. There was also the traditional Mexican history quiz (hosted by Garry) and the judging of the fancy dress, which was won coincidentally by Garry who turned up as the father of the Independence movement – Miguel Hidalgo.
As with Luis in Leon, I turned out to be the lightweight of the group and had to go to bed at 2.00 a.m. while the party was still in full swing. (It wasn`t like this at Loughbrough, I mused while the sound of acoustic Mexican music played in the background and I fell into a slightly beer induced sleep).
The next day was a low key day of recovering for most people and I spent the day blogging and route planning for my early departure the following day to Oaxaca. It had been a real pleasure to spend time with Garry, Yvon and their family. They had been so incredibly kind and hospitable, and had given me a real feel for the authentic Mexico City. An experience I would never have had, and what a shame it would have been to miss one of the most vibrant and exciting cities in the world.
Monday, 20 September 2010
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Meanwhile, deep into Mexico ........"You can eat for free as long as you drink beer??"
After another very long and tiring ride avoiding potholes and wandering cattle, I arrived at Hidalgo Del Parral. This is the place where Pancho Villa was killed, but apart from that It`s also a place where you can get a half decent cappuchino and a lovely plate of bananas and ice cream (thought I`d vary my diet a bit).
After checking in to the Hotel Turista (it seemed appropriate) I wandered around and found a nice little bar as it was past “beer o`clock”, and it was here that I was introduced to the delights of Negra Modelo which has since become my Mexican beer of choice! Feeling a little more refreshed I headed for the Centro.
Whenever I arrive in a new town the best way to get orientated is to head for the central Plaza, once you`re there you can easily find you`re way around most towns.
As with every other town I`ve visited in Mexico, Parral (as it`s known) has some beautiful churches and many other buildings of historical significance, so I whiled away an hour or two before heading back to the usual e mail/skype/blog routine.
Tomorrow would be another day on the road and another destination.
DURANGO
Up before first light, I programmed the GPS for the city of Durango and set off in the half light of a cloudy morning. It was going to be a 6 hr. ride so I opted to spend some of it on the toll roads. In Mexico, as on the continent, there are many toll roads which are usually faster, more direct and can be expensive if used often, or you can use the "libre" (free) roads. I was planning on taking a “libre” road initially, which looked fairly direct, but the manager of the coffee shop I`d spoken to the day before warned me that not much traffic used that road and it would be ”safer” to take the toll road.
There followed an incredibly dull several hours of riding where I was stopped on many occasions and money was extracted from me for the privilege of riding on the beautifully maintained and virtually empty roads! God give me some twisty roads!
I`d planned to go to Durango because of a contact I`d made online. Stephen is an American who works in Mexico as a geologist for a mining company and also rides a Kawasaki KLR 650. He`d offered to meet up with me and show me around if I had time.
I was looking forward to a bit of company, but first I had to find my hotel. I have been following a guide written by another member of the internet biking community. Sjoerd Bakker is an expert on Mexico and has ridden there for years. In that time, he has researched cheap hotel accommodation specifically for motorcyclists. This time however, my GPS looked confused! I was miles from where I should have been and had to resort to asking for directions.
“Perdon, puede decir mi, donde esta La Hotel Bugambilias por favor?”
A couple of people scratched their heads, but a man on a bicycle seemed to know where to go and agreed to lead me there. So for the next 15 mins I followed at a crawl through many tiny streets wondering whether he really knew where he was going.
I`d built up quite a sweat by the time we pulled up outside an unnamed hotel. Amazingly he`d found it! I offered him some money but he refused, waved and peddled off.
After checking room availability, wifi connections, and secure parking, I was directed a ground floor room and was told I could park my bike right outside the door!
I`d been having huge problems with my mobile phone, it just wasn`t co-operating so I left a skype message for Stephen telling him where was and went for a wander around. This was wandering with intent as I`d discovered once again that the promised wifi wouldn`t work! I tried 5 places that were recommended none of which worked. I finally asked a policeman on duty in the plaza and located wifi in a local cafe where I spent several hours, eventually having to eat something I didn`t really want (again!) just to justify using their wifi!
I`d just arrived back and was chatting to a man in the car park who had noticed my bike and was asking me about the journey when a Kawasaki pulled up and Stephen introduced himself. I didn`t feel too bad when he said it had taken him ages to find the hotel aswell, and he lives here! He took me downtown to a really good restaurant and very kindly treated me to dinner,
“Think of it as my contribution to your journey!”
Refusing nothing, I thanked him and accepted his offer. Over a few beers and superb tacos, he gave me a fascinating insight into the Mexican society he was now a part of. It was a really enjoyable evening and he asked me to drop into his office the next day for a coffee and he would help me with my route planning. Somehow, I keep bumping into extremely generous and helpful people!
ZACATECAS
The next day feeling a little more rested after two days off the bike I headed for the town of Zacatecas. I`d heard it was a lovely city and it also had a nice sounding name! Up to now, although I was riding in the rainy season, I`d been fortunate to avoid any serious downpours because of my early starts. It tends to rain in the afternoon and evening. As I pulled into Zacatecas the skies looked very threatening, so I hurried to a hotel not wishing to spend too much time searching for a specific one.
“Tiene un habitacion para esta noche?”
“Si”
“Tiene internet – wifi?”
“Si”
I checked in, and after skyping, sorting e mails and showering I suddenly felt totally drained. The strain of early starts and 5/6 hrs riding everyday was beginning to show. What I really wanted to do was just lie down and rest for a few hours, but there was a city out there which needed exploring, so I dragged myself up grabbed a bite to eat and jumped in a taxi to the “Centro Historico”.
Zacatecas is a World Heritage site and the streets of the old town are cobbled and narrow, full of fascinating little shops, bars and crowded markets. As I wandered around, not really knowing where I was, but still confident I could find my way back to the plaza, I noticed it suddenly going very dark. The storm that had been threatening all day was about to break. It started with gentle rainfall at first and then quickly became a torrential downpour with thunder, lightning, the whole works!
I ducked into a small side street cafe and watched as the street turned into a river within minutes. Which was all very well, but I was wearing a t shirt not a raincoat and it didn`t seem to be abating any time soon! As it got dark, I decided it might be a good idea to get a taxi and head back. Unfortunately, half of Zacatecas decided the same thing. Struggling to hail a taxi where I was, I walked in the rain for about 20 minutes avoiding the advances of a strange young man who was keen to share a taxi and take me to a local porn film. I eventually lost him at an intersection and found a taxi going my way.
Boy did I need a beer when I got to my hotel!
“Quisiera una cerveza, por favor!”
He just shrugged and shook his head! What! No beer? This hotel was clearly not all it looked on the outside. Not a good end to the night. I was too tired to go out again, so just collapsed into bed and decided I needed to stay another day to recover.
The following day I got into town early to beat the inevitable thunderstorm and had a better look at the town. I decided to treat myself to a nice meal that night as I`d seen what looked like an expensive Argentinian restaurant not far from my hotel and I had a real desire for a glass of red wine, and just a change from the normal food I`d been eating. I was right, it was an expensive restaurant (relatively speaking), but I thought what the hell. A couple of beers, half a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a lovely piece of salmon later, I felt distinctly more mellow and relaxed than I had been for a while! That night another huge thunderstorm woke me up, but I was hoping it would pass over before morning.
LEON
Woke up early again and had packed up the bike before sunrise. As dawn broke and the last few drops of rain subsided, I rode south towards my first Mexican couch surfing experience. Here I was to meet Luis Nunez who lived in Leon about 4 hrs. ride away.
Leon is one of Mexico`s biggest cities, so relying heavily on the GPS I was relieved when I finally arrived at the address he gave me. After unpacking and a quick check of e mails, Luis decided to take me for a tour of his city. First stop was lunch. He`d told of this amazing place where you can eat for free as long as you drink!!! Sounded like Shangri La, so I told him to take me there with all speed. What a brilliant place. You could actually spend all day there and eat as much as you wanted – just keep drinking beer. After 3 beers I was beginning to like Leon a lot and my new mate Luis was really good company. I was eager to learn as much as I could about the history of the place and particularly the Mexican revolution and Luis was a mine of information, but time was moving on and we had a lot of places to visit. We took the bus down into the centre where Luis had arranged to meet his friend Miguel and from there we went around the all the key historical sights, which of course is very thirsty work. Happily, Luis knew of another superb place to sample a beer or two (two as it happened). This was a bar themed on bullfighting which is extremely popular in Mexico. No sooner had we sat down when more food arrived! Gratis! I was really warming to this concept.
We drank beer, ate food and listened to the "Mariachis" (bands who play typical Mexican music on request) for an hour or so when Luis suggested we go to another bar which had a good reputation and had live music until late. Who could refuse?
A bus and taxi ride later we arrived at a very funky, lively and loud bar, filled with groups of young Mexicans, all of whom seemed to be on a mission to out drink each other with shots of Tequilla. More beer and snacks followed as the band took to the stage. I`d been so preoccupied with the day`s entertainment and Luis`s company I`d forgotten how tired I was after so many days on the road, but by midnight I was beginning to wilt a little. Feeling the difference in the years between me and the average person in the bar I told Luis it was probably time for me to go as I had another big day riding. I felt slightly guilty as both Luis and Miguel would no doubt have partied until the early hours! Only a few hours later, and I was again awoken by claps of thunder and torrential rain. Before 7.00 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed and packed the bike. A light rain was falling as I thanked Luis for fascinating couch surfing experience and rode off into heavy city traffic for the relatively short ride to San Miguel De Allende.
After checking in to the Hotel Turista (it seemed appropriate) I wandered around and found a nice little bar as it was past “beer o`clock”, and it was here that I was introduced to the delights of Negra Modelo which has since become my Mexican beer of choice! Feeling a little more refreshed I headed for the Centro.
Whenever I arrive in a new town the best way to get orientated is to head for the central Plaza, once you`re there you can easily find you`re way around most towns.
As with every other town I`ve visited in Mexico, Parral (as it`s known) has some beautiful churches and many other buildings of historical significance, so I whiled away an hour or two before heading back to the usual e mail/skype/blog routine.
Tomorrow would be another day on the road and another destination.
DURANGO
Up before first light, I programmed the GPS for the city of Durango and set off in the half light of a cloudy morning. It was going to be a 6 hr. ride so I opted to spend some of it on the toll roads. In Mexico, as on the continent, there are many toll roads which are usually faster, more direct and can be expensive if used often, or you can use the "libre" (free) roads. I was planning on taking a “libre” road initially, which looked fairly direct, but the manager of the coffee shop I`d spoken to the day before warned me that not much traffic used that road and it would be ”safer” to take the toll road.
There followed an incredibly dull several hours of riding where I was stopped on many occasions and money was extracted from me for the privilege of riding on the beautifully maintained and virtually empty roads! God give me some twisty roads!
I`d planned to go to Durango because of a contact I`d made online. Stephen is an American who works in Mexico as a geologist for a mining company and also rides a Kawasaki KLR 650. He`d offered to meet up with me and show me around if I had time.
I was looking forward to a bit of company, but first I had to find my hotel. I have been following a guide written by another member of the internet biking community. Sjoerd Bakker is an expert on Mexico and has ridden there for years. In that time, he has researched cheap hotel accommodation specifically for motorcyclists. This time however, my GPS looked confused! I was miles from where I should have been and had to resort to asking for directions.
“Perdon, puede decir mi, donde esta La Hotel Bugambilias por favor?”
A couple of people scratched their heads, but a man on a bicycle seemed to know where to go and agreed to lead me there. So for the next 15 mins I followed at a crawl through many tiny streets wondering whether he really knew where he was going.
I`d built up quite a sweat by the time we pulled up outside an unnamed hotel. Amazingly he`d found it! I offered him some money but he refused, waved and peddled off.
After checking room availability, wifi connections, and secure parking, I was directed a ground floor room and was told I could park my bike right outside the door!
I`d been having huge problems with my mobile phone, it just wasn`t co-operating so I left a skype message for Stephen telling him where was and went for a wander around. This was wandering with intent as I`d discovered once again that the promised wifi wouldn`t work! I tried 5 places that were recommended none of which worked. I finally asked a policeman on duty in the plaza and located wifi in a local cafe where I spent several hours, eventually having to eat something I didn`t really want (again!) just to justify using their wifi!
I`d just arrived back and was chatting to a man in the car park who had noticed my bike and was asking me about the journey when a Kawasaki pulled up and Stephen introduced himself. I didn`t feel too bad when he said it had taken him ages to find the hotel aswell, and he lives here! He took me downtown to a really good restaurant and very kindly treated me to dinner,
“Think of it as my contribution to your journey!”
Refusing nothing, I thanked him and accepted his offer. Over a few beers and superb tacos, he gave me a fascinating insight into the Mexican society he was now a part of. It was a really enjoyable evening and he asked me to drop into his office the next day for a coffee and he would help me with my route planning. Somehow, I keep bumping into extremely generous and helpful people!
ZACATECAS
The next day feeling a little more rested after two days off the bike I headed for the town of Zacatecas. I`d heard it was a lovely city and it also had a nice sounding name! Up to now, although I was riding in the rainy season, I`d been fortunate to avoid any serious downpours because of my early starts. It tends to rain in the afternoon and evening. As I pulled into Zacatecas the skies looked very threatening, so I hurried to a hotel not wishing to spend too much time searching for a specific one.
“Tiene un habitacion para esta noche?”
“Si”
“Tiene internet – wifi?”
“Si”
I checked in, and after skyping, sorting e mails and showering I suddenly felt totally drained. The strain of early starts and 5/6 hrs riding everyday was beginning to show. What I really wanted to do was just lie down and rest for a few hours, but there was a city out there which needed exploring, so I dragged myself up grabbed a bite to eat and jumped in a taxi to the “Centro Historico”.
Zacatecas is a World Heritage site and the streets of the old town are cobbled and narrow, full of fascinating little shops, bars and crowded markets. As I wandered around, not really knowing where I was, but still confident I could find my way back to the plaza, I noticed it suddenly going very dark. The storm that had been threatening all day was about to break. It started with gentle rainfall at first and then quickly became a torrential downpour with thunder, lightning, the whole works!
I ducked into a small side street cafe and watched as the street turned into a river within minutes. Which was all very well, but I was wearing a t shirt not a raincoat and it didn`t seem to be abating any time soon! As it got dark, I decided it might be a good idea to get a taxi and head back. Unfortunately, half of Zacatecas decided the same thing. Struggling to hail a taxi where I was, I walked in the rain for about 20 minutes avoiding the advances of a strange young man who was keen to share a taxi and take me to a local porn film. I eventually lost him at an intersection and found a taxi going my way.
Boy did I need a beer when I got to my hotel!
“Quisiera una cerveza, por favor!”
He just shrugged and shook his head! What! No beer? This hotel was clearly not all it looked on the outside. Not a good end to the night. I was too tired to go out again, so just collapsed into bed and decided I needed to stay another day to recover.
The following day I got into town early to beat the inevitable thunderstorm and had a better look at the town. I decided to treat myself to a nice meal that night as I`d seen what looked like an expensive Argentinian restaurant not far from my hotel and I had a real desire for a glass of red wine, and just a change from the normal food I`d been eating. I was right, it was an expensive restaurant (relatively speaking), but I thought what the hell. A couple of beers, half a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a lovely piece of salmon later, I felt distinctly more mellow and relaxed than I had been for a while! That night another huge thunderstorm woke me up, but I was hoping it would pass over before morning.
LEON
Woke up early again and had packed up the bike before sunrise. As dawn broke and the last few drops of rain subsided, I rode south towards my first Mexican couch surfing experience. Here I was to meet Luis Nunez who lived in Leon about 4 hrs. ride away.
Leon is one of Mexico`s biggest cities, so relying heavily on the GPS I was relieved when I finally arrived at the address he gave me. After unpacking and a quick check of e mails, Luis decided to take me for a tour of his city. First stop was lunch. He`d told of this amazing place where you can eat for free as long as you drink!!! Sounded like Shangri La, so I told him to take me there with all speed. What a brilliant place. You could actually spend all day there and eat as much as you wanted – just keep drinking beer. After 3 beers I was beginning to like Leon a lot and my new mate Luis was really good company. I was eager to learn as much as I could about the history of the place and particularly the Mexican revolution and Luis was a mine of information, but time was moving on and we had a lot of places to visit. We took the bus down into the centre where Luis had arranged to meet his friend Miguel and from there we went around the all the key historical sights, which of course is very thirsty work. Happily, Luis knew of another superb place to sample a beer or two (two as it happened). This was a bar themed on bullfighting which is extremely popular in Mexico. No sooner had we sat down when more food arrived! Gratis! I was really warming to this concept.
We drank beer, ate food and listened to the "Mariachis" (bands who play typical Mexican music on request) for an hour or so when Luis suggested we go to another bar which had a good reputation and had live music until late. Who could refuse?
A bus and taxi ride later we arrived at a very funky, lively and loud bar, filled with groups of young Mexicans, all of whom seemed to be on a mission to out drink each other with shots of Tequilla. More beer and snacks followed as the band took to the stage. I`d been so preoccupied with the day`s entertainment and Luis`s company I`d forgotten how tired I was after so many days on the road, but by midnight I was beginning to wilt a little. Feeling the difference in the years between me and the average person in the bar I told Luis it was probably time for me to go as I had another big day riding. I felt slightly guilty as both Luis and Miguel would no doubt have partied until the early hours! Only a few hours later, and I was again awoken by claps of thunder and torrential rain. Before 7.00 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed and packed the bike. A light rain was falling as I thanked Luis for fascinating couch surfing experience and rode off into heavy city traffic for the relatively short ride to San Miguel De Allende.
Friday, 10 September 2010
"Bienvenidos Mexico!"
As I rode into Agua Prieta it was like I`d somehow found the missing portal to another world! The difference was extreme. I`d stumbled upon the real “Wild West”. Wild, stray dogs roamed the streets, cars that wouldn`t have been out of place in a British Banger race, kicked up clouds of dust. Groups of locals eyed me with suspicion or curiosity. All that was missing was tumbleweed blowing across the road. I felt like a latter day “Pale Rider”, but without the machismo. Unlike Clint, I wasn’t` gently sauntering through town, I was actually riding as quickly as I legally could to find my way out of town and on to the right road south, cursing the GPS as it struggled to orientate itself (I think it was in shock too!).
Eventually, the GPS got its act together and I headed south on the road to Moctezuma. Then followed a physically uneventful, but mentally, paranoia filled 3 hr ride. As it turned out, I had plenty of company on the road. My old friends, fear, apprehension and anxiety decided to join me for the whole trip. My head was still filled with storied of shootings, robberies, kidnappings, etc. The road was eerily quiet for most of the way, and every car or pick up truck that came into view in my mirrors was obviously following me for nefarious reasons. Each time a car passed me and sped into the distance I must admit to breathing sigh of relief. All was going well for about an hour when I passed a very beat up car parked by the side of the road. It had obviously seen much better days. The windscreen had a huge crack(clearly from a bullet) right across it. Thinking nothing of it I rode on. Several minutes later, I saw the same car in my rear view mirrors approaching fast. The road was a winding and narrow making passing difficult, so after being “followed” for several miles I slowed and waved the car on, but he slowed too and continued to follow close behind. My paranoia was having the time of its life! I accelerated and so did he. This cat and mouse game went on for another few miles with my adrenaline levels at an all time high and mind racing through possible scenarios.( It`s at times like this, that sipping a beer, back in my club in Olney seems a much better option).
Eventually the car passed me, accelerating dramatically and then proceeded to veer across the centre line, driving very erratically, and disappeared into the distance never to be seen again.
After my adrenaline levels and heart rate had returned to some kind of normality, I then began to notice the actual scenery I was riding through. Mexico is a surprise in many respects. Rather than the dust and arid landscaped I was expecting, I found lush, verdant rolling hills and many places reminiscent of Scotland.
As I rode through my first small town/village, I was caught out by the “topes”. I`d read about these beforehand and completely forgotten them. To you and me, they are Mexican versions of “Sleeping Policeman”. Speed bumps of a very vicious variety that are at the entry and exit pin of every inhabited area. I hit the brakes hard at the last minute and just managed to slow enough to save my suspension. Cursing my lack of concentration, I crawled through the town remembering the Police love to catch anyone (especially Gringos breaking the speed limit) where they can then extract the “Mordida”, an on the spot fine/bribe.
This kind of riding is extremely tiring. You`re senses are operating on high alert all the time. My next challenge would be the Police/military checkpoints, and sure enough, 30 minutes later I was flagged down. I was asked for my papers, driving licence, where I was headed, what for, etc.
“Voy a Moctezuma!” trying to practice my Spanish. When I discovered he understood a little English, I asked if the road was safe,
Mas o menos” (more or less), he shrugged, but “be careful”.
“Si, gracias... adios!”
I reached Moctezuma by early afternoon. I wasn`t really sure what to expect, but Beverly Hills it certainly wasn`t! I suppose it could be described as a typical small Mexican town, noticeably devoid of Gringos. Trying to find a cheap hotel that had been recommended I was riding around slowly, unavoidably attracting attention to myself. Remembering a piece of advice to head for the main Plaza if you`re lost, I pulled up in the town square and stared at my basic map wondering what to do next. In less than a minute a local asked me where I wanted to go,
“Puede decir mi donde esta Hotel San Antonio, por favor?”
Not bad, I thought, and he understood! I wish I could say the same about his rather long response! The town wasn`t that big so I eventually found my first hotel in Mexico. It seemed deserted and locked, but after ringing the bell a few times Jesus appeared. No, it wasn`t a vision. It was the owner. Here we go again,
“Tiene un habitacion para esta noche, por favor?”
“Yes!” It seemed Jesus could speak good English!
As you can imagine, the hotel was basic, but perfectly acceptable and “muy importante” it had wifi! After my usual ritual sorting the bike I went on a recce of the town looking for an ATM and some food. Finding both, I headed back armed to my hotel with my “food” – bananas and water!(my paranoia extends to what I can eat and drink too!)
So this was real, small town Mexico, off the tourist route. It certainly felt like it as I walked around that evening. Not surprisingly, everyone stared at the only Gringo in town. Desperate for some “proper”food, I asked Jesus and he directed me to a pizzeria! So pizza and beers it was. Strangely enough, I never have any problem ordering beer wherever I am.
Hermasillo
That night I looked at my map, and having no real idea where to head for I decided on a bigger city, basically, something that looked and felt a bit more like civilisation! Hermasillos was a modern city, several hours ride south west of Moctezuma. As I neared the outskirts, the temperature rose markedly, and by the time I found a hotel it was already 100ยบ with high humidity. Stepping into what seemed like air conditioned luxury compared to the night before, I thought I might stay a couple of days to recover from the long ride and early mornings I`d been having recently. It would also give me time to do some “work” on the bike. But first things first, I needed to go out (“Mad dogs and Englishmen.....!”) because I`d spotted a coffee shop on my ride in and was desperate for a decent cappuchino! Mexico isn`t noted for its coffee, but it wasn`t too bad!
It`s interesting what you miss on a trip like this, good coffee, chocolate, good wine, fruit and vegetables and of course, being English, I could murder a cup of tea!
My bike was parked securely in a sheltered car park out of the sun, so I thought I would be brave and change the front brake pads for the first time since Tony (in England) and Bill had shown me how simple it is. Bill had noticed how the pads seemed to be wearing unevenly so had told me to keep an eye on them. Now seemed to be a good time to do it. While I was busy sweating over the simple job I noticed the pistons were moving unequally and one seemed to be stuck, so having done the job and feeling quite proud of myself I decided to skype Bill and see what he thought. He had just installed skype but didn`t have a web cam or sound so we communicated by instant messaging. To cut a long story short I spent the next few hours running up and down the three floors to the car park trying various strategies to resolve the problem and in the meantime, unbeknown to me, the Hermasillo mosquitos ( 633 Squadron) were having a feast day on my exposed Gringo flesh. I`d forgotten about the little b******s and only thought they appeared at dusk. Clearly not. After much placing, removing brake fluid, squeezing, sweating and test riding it was decided to just keep an eye on them and see how it went.
After an all too brief respite, the next day saw me up at dawn and heading off for the little town of YECORA heading inland and to higher ground. A 5 hr ride through many twisty, switchback roads brought me into an even smaller town than Moctezuma, although, I still had to ask directions to the hotel! Compared to the previous night it was basic to say the least.
Hotel Las Brisas was run a by a friendly owner who spoke no English so we had an interesting conversation about restaurants and wifi connections. Eventually, He directed me to an internet cafe (well, just a little shop that had a couple of old computers at the back) and we arranged that he would drive me the small distance to a restaurant in the plaza that night! For some reason, the internet connection in the shop was intermittent and the signal kept dropping.
There then followed another test of attitude. I`d noticed during the journey, just how important the internet is to me as a way of staying in touch, and how much of a morale booster it is to me, particularly as a solo rider. Without it, it would be easy to feel pretty much alone. Out of sight, out of mind. The truth is of course, the whole journey is, has been, and always was going to be a huge test of attitude, given my lack of experience in everything I am attempting. There are times when I have real doubts and serious questions, and it`s at times like these I have to keep reminding myself why I chose to do this, and I think it can be summed up perfectly in a quote my son Dan sent me recently,
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain.
Anyway, enough introspection, where was I?
So at 7.00 p.m. that night I was driven the short distance to the restaurant he recommended. It was actually someone `s front room with a few tables in it! With no menu except what was in her fridge, I was a bit stuck as to what to order. Of course, enchiladas! Staple food, everyone cooks them. So with my order placed I said,
“Puedo tener una cerveza por favor”
No, they didn`t have any beer! This was getting serious, but the night was saved when my driver indicated he would go to a nearby shop and get me one or two!
“Dos, por favor!” Well, I was thirsty! When I drained my last beer, my driver suddenly appeared and said,
“Vamos?”
“Si, gracias”
And so we “vamosed” back to the hotel and I thanked him for his help and went to bed early (again) ready for a dawn ride to CREEL up in the mountains. I`d read about Creel as a stopping off point for Copper Canyon, one of the major geographical sights of Mexico, so I thought I couldn`t come this close and not see it. An exhausting 6 hour ride to cover 150 miles along very windy, twisty roads brought me into Creel at about midday. I found a hotel on one of the main streets and noticed when I checked in that there was no air conditioning and no fan, just a gas fire! That night I quickly realised that at 7,500 ft. you don`t need air con and it was refreshingly cool. I was too exhausted to see the canyon when I arrived even though it was only 30 miles away. My body needed rest, beer and half a BBQ chicken, which was conveniently found just down the road at “Mr. Pollos” at a special cheap rate!
The following day, noticing dark and threatening storm clouds above I set off in the morning for a trip to the Canyon. For something so big, it was surprisingly difficult to find the vista point, until I found later that I had just ridden straight past it. It was indeed huge and at the same time for some reason not as awe inspiring as my first sight of the Grand Canyon. I savoured the environment for a while and then felt decidedly hungry, so I headed back for the other half of the chicken. After sating my hunger at “Mr. Pollos” (we were now amigos), I planned my route for the next day and opted to head for HIDALGO DEL PARRAL which would be another 5 hr stretch. At 5.00 a.m. the next day I got up, packed the bike and set off just as the sun rose for more winding and twisting riding. God just give me a straight road for a change!
Eventually, the GPS got its act together and I headed south on the road to Moctezuma. Then followed a physically uneventful, but mentally, paranoia filled 3 hr ride. As it turned out, I had plenty of company on the road. My old friends, fear, apprehension and anxiety decided to join me for the whole trip. My head was still filled with storied of shootings, robberies, kidnappings, etc. The road was eerily quiet for most of the way, and every car or pick up truck that came into view in my mirrors was obviously following me for nefarious reasons. Each time a car passed me and sped into the distance I must admit to breathing sigh of relief. All was going well for about an hour when I passed a very beat up car parked by the side of the road. It had obviously seen much better days. The windscreen had a huge crack(clearly from a bullet) right across it. Thinking nothing of it I rode on. Several minutes later, I saw the same car in my rear view mirrors approaching fast. The road was a winding and narrow making passing difficult, so after being “followed” for several miles I slowed and waved the car on, but he slowed too and continued to follow close behind. My paranoia was having the time of its life! I accelerated and so did he. This cat and mouse game went on for another few miles with my adrenaline levels at an all time high and mind racing through possible scenarios.( It`s at times like this, that sipping a beer, back in my club in Olney seems a much better option).
Eventually the car passed me, accelerating dramatically and then proceeded to veer across the centre line, driving very erratically, and disappeared into the distance never to be seen again.
After my adrenaline levels and heart rate had returned to some kind of normality, I then began to notice the actual scenery I was riding through. Mexico is a surprise in many respects. Rather than the dust and arid landscaped I was expecting, I found lush, verdant rolling hills and many places reminiscent of Scotland.
As I rode through my first small town/village, I was caught out by the “topes”. I`d read about these beforehand and completely forgotten them. To you and me, they are Mexican versions of “Sleeping Policeman”. Speed bumps of a very vicious variety that are at the entry and exit pin of every inhabited area. I hit the brakes hard at the last minute and just managed to slow enough to save my suspension. Cursing my lack of concentration, I crawled through the town remembering the Police love to catch anyone (especially Gringos breaking the speed limit) where they can then extract the “Mordida”, an on the spot fine/bribe.
This kind of riding is extremely tiring. You`re senses are operating on high alert all the time. My next challenge would be the Police/military checkpoints, and sure enough, 30 minutes later I was flagged down. I was asked for my papers, driving licence, where I was headed, what for, etc.
“Voy a Moctezuma!” trying to practice my Spanish. When I discovered he understood a little English, I asked if the road was safe,
Mas o menos” (more or less), he shrugged, but “be careful”.
“Si, gracias... adios!”
I reached Moctezuma by early afternoon. I wasn`t really sure what to expect, but Beverly Hills it certainly wasn`t! I suppose it could be described as a typical small Mexican town, noticeably devoid of Gringos. Trying to find a cheap hotel that had been recommended I was riding around slowly, unavoidably attracting attention to myself. Remembering a piece of advice to head for the main Plaza if you`re lost, I pulled up in the town square and stared at my basic map wondering what to do next. In less than a minute a local asked me where I wanted to go,
“Puede decir mi donde esta Hotel San Antonio, por favor?”
Not bad, I thought, and he understood! I wish I could say the same about his rather long response! The town wasn`t that big so I eventually found my first hotel in Mexico. It seemed deserted and locked, but after ringing the bell a few times Jesus appeared. No, it wasn`t a vision. It was the owner. Here we go again,
“Tiene un habitacion para esta noche, por favor?”
“Yes!” It seemed Jesus could speak good English!
As you can imagine, the hotel was basic, but perfectly acceptable and “muy importante” it had wifi! After my usual ritual sorting the bike I went on a recce of the town looking for an ATM and some food. Finding both, I headed back armed to my hotel with my “food” – bananas and water!(my paranoia extends to what I can eat and drink too!)
So this was real, small town Mexico, off the tourist route. It certainly felt like it as I walked around that evening. Not surprisingly, everyone stared at the only Gringo in town. Desperate for some “proper”food, I asked Jesus and he directed me to a pizzeria! So pizza and beers it was. Strangely enough, I never have any problem ordering beer wherever I am.
Hermasillo
That night I looked at my map, and having no real idea where to head for I decided on a bigger city, basically, something that looked and felt a bit more like civilisation! Hermasillos was a modern city, several hours ride south west of Moctezuma. As I neared the outskirts, the temperature rose markedly, and by the time I found a hotel it was already 100ยบ with high humidity. Stepping into what seemed like air conditioned luxury compared to the night before, I thought I might stay a couple of days to recover from the long ride and early mornings I`d been having recently. It would also give me time to do some “work” on the bike. But first things first, I needed to go out (“Mad dogs and Englishmen.....!”) because I`d spotted a coffee shop on my ride in and was desperate for a decent cappuchino! Mexico isn`t noted for its coffee, but it wasn`t too bad!
It`s interesting what you miss on a trip like this, good coffee, chocolate, good wine, fruit and vegetables and of course, being English, I could murder a cup of tea!
My bike was parked securely in a sheltered car park out of the sun, so I thought I would be brave and change the front brake pads for the first time since Tony (in England) and Bill had shown me how simple it is. Bill had noticed how the pads seemed to be wearing unevenly so had told me to keep an eye on them. Now seemed to be a good time to do it. While I was busy sweating over the simple job I noticed the pistons were moving unequally and one seemed to be stuck, so having done the job and feeling quite proud of myself I decided to skype Bill and see what he thought. He had just installed skype but didn`t have a web cam or sound so we communicated by instant messaging. To cut a long story short I spent the next few hours running up and down the three floors to the car park trying various strategies to resolve the problem and in the meantime, unbeknown to me, the Hermasillo mosquitos ( 633 Squadron) were having a feast day on my exposed Gringo flesh. I`d forgotten about the little b******s and only thought they appeared at dusk. Clearly not. After much placing, removing brake fluid, squeezing, sweating and test riding it was decided to just keep an eye on them and see how it went.
After an all too brief respite, the next day saw me up at dawn and heading off for the little town of YECORA heading inland and to higher ground. A 5 hr ride through many twisty, switchback roads brought me into an even smaller town than Moctezuma, although, I still had to ask directions to the hotel! Compared to the previous night it was basic to say the least.
Hotel Las Brisas was run a by a friendly owner who spoke no English so we had an interesting conversation about restaurants and wifi connections. Eventually, He directed me to an internet cafe (well, just a little shop that had a couple of old computers at the back) and we arranged that he would drive me the small distance to a restaurant in the plaza that night! For some reason, the internet connection in the shop was intermittent and the signal kept dropping.
There then followed another test of attitude. I`d noticed during the journey, just how important the internet is to me as a way of staying in touch, and how much of a morale booster it is to me, particularly as a solo rider. Without it, it would be easy to feel pretty much alone. Out of sight, out of mind. The truth is of course, the whole journey is, has been, and always was going to be a huge test of attitude, given my lack of experience in everything I am attempting. There are times when I have real doubts and serious questions, and it`s at times like these I have to keep reminding myself why I chose to do this, and I think it can be summed up perfectly in a quote my son Dan sent me recently,
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain.
Anyway, enough introspection, where was I?
So at 7.00 p.m. that night I was driven the short distance to the restaurant he recommended. It was actually someone `s front room with a few tables in it! With no menu except what was in her fridge, I was a bit stuck as to what to order. Of course, enchiladas! Staple food, everyone cooks them. So with my order placed I said,
“Puedo tener una cerveza por favor”
No, they didn`t have any beer! This was getting serious, but the night was saved when my driver indicated he would go to a nearby shop and get me one or two!
“Dos, por favor!” Well, I was thirsty! When I drained my last beer, my driver suddenly appeared and said,
“Vamos?”
“Si, gracias”
And so we “vamosed” back to the hotel and I thanked him for his help and went to bed early (again) ready for a dawn ride to CREEL up in the mountains. I`d read about Creel as a stopping off point for Copper Canyon, one of the major geographical sights of Mexico, so I thought I couldn`t come this close and not see it. An exhausting 6 hour ride to cover 150 miles along very windy, twisty roads brought me into Creel at about midday. I found a hotel on one of the main streets and noticed when I checked in that there was no air conditioning and no fan, just a gas fire! That night I quickly realised that at 7,500 ft. you don`t need air con and it was refreshingly cool. I was too exhausted to see the canyon when I arrived even though it was only 30 miles away. My body needed rest, beer and half a BBQ chicken, which was conveniently found just down the road at “Mr. Pollos” at a special cheap rate!
The following day, noticing dark and threatening storm clouds above I set off in the morning for a trip to the Canyon. For something so big, it was surprisingly difficult to find the vista point, until I found later that I had just ridden straight past it. It was indeed huge and at the same time for some reason not as awe inspiring as my first sight of the Grand Canyon. I savoured the environment for a while and then felt decidedly hungry, so I headed back for the other half of the chicken. After sating my hunger at “Mr. Pollos” (we were now amigos), I planned my route for the next day and opted to head for HIDALGO DEL PARRAL which would be another 5 hr stretch. At 5.00 a.m. the next day I got up, packed the bike and set off just as the sun rose for more winding and twisting riding. God just give me a straight road for a change!
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The Route
