Viva Mexico! Viva Independencia!

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.