February 5 to 11, 2009 ; Chetumal, Quintana Roo to Puerto Angel, Oaxaca
Thursday ; Chetumal, Quintana Roo through Campeche ( state ) and Tabasco to Palenque, Chiapas
Today was sunny and hot. We expected a long, difficult day. It tuned out to be even longer and more difficult than expected. We got up very early, and were out of Yax Há RV Resort before 8:00 A.M.. We knew we had to make it to Palenque before dark. Chetumal to Palenque is a dangerous area, more so for RV's travelling solo, much less so during daylight. It's one of two dangerous areas we have to drive through. Chetumal to Palenque is 500 km. / 300 mi. on Mex 186 running inland from the Caribbean, following along the Mexican border with Belize and Guatemala. That's about twice the distance we would normally drive in a day, given the difficult roads in Mexico.
Before leaving Yax Há RV Resort I wanted to dip Lanoire's tires in the Caribbean. Previously I have driven her through the surf on the Atlantic Ocean, the Pacific Ocean, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Sea of Cortez. This was her last opportunity to be dipped in the Caribbean. I considered unhitching her from Harvey, and driving her down Yax Há's boat launch ramp until her tires were in the water, but I decided it was too much effort to unhitch and rehitch. I settled for pouring a cup of Caribbean water on her tires.
Driving through the city of Chetumal I decided to refill with diesel. I pulled up to the diesel pump at a Pemex station, got out and put some Lucas diesel fuel additive in the tank. I turned around to wipe my hands, and when I looked back, the attendant was rushing to get the filler nozzle into the tank and start pumping ... before he zeroed the pump. There was still 100 pesos showing on the pump from the last sale. It's a common gringo rip-off in Mexico, and one must be constantly vigilant to ensure that the pump is zeroed before filling begins. I glared at the attendant and pointed at the pump display. As is always the case with the frequent attempts to rip off the gringo, he looked sheepish, mumbled an apology, and pretended that it was an honest mistake. Admittedly, it's happening less frequently this year in mainland Mexico than it did last year in the Baja, and I reluctantly accept it as part of the Mexico experience, but it's one of the three things I dislike most about Mexico.
As we drove west from Chetumal on Mex 186, the jungles of Belize were on our left. When I stopped on the side of the road to empty my bladder, there was a very strong fragrance of mint. I had stopped beside some manner of mint jungle. Very pleasant aroma ! Belize is a "narrow" country, north to south, so before too long we were driving along the border with Guatemala to our left. Northern Guatemala is uninhabited jungle, except for the smugglers and banditos who come out of the jungle and cross into Mexico on Mex 186. As a result, there were many military checkpoints along the road today. Only the first one stopped us for an inspection. The soldier wanted to see our vehicle importation document, and my driver's license to verify that the name on the two documents were the same.
We had failed to notice that we were going to have to re-enter the state of Campeche today. Campeche has food restrictions. When we got to the border crossing from Quintana Roo into Campeche, we were stopped for a food inspection. Knowing that we had chicken in the freezer and eggs in the fridge, both not allowed into Campeche, I used a tactic suggested to us by our Baja caravan leader last year. When the inspector came over, I told him in English that I spoke only English, no Spanish. Fortunately for me, he spoke no English, unlike the inspectors we encountered at the northern crossing into Campeche a couple of weeks ago. He motioned that he wanted to see inside the trailer. I opened the door, he walked in, looked at the fridge, and sighed, knowing that explaining the restrictions to me in Spanish would be incomprehensible. To satisfy himself, or his boss, that he fulfilled his obligation to inspect us, he turned away from the fridge without opening it, opened a kitchen cupboard door, looked at the package of dog biscuits at the front of the cupboard, closed the door, and indicated to me that he was done. HA HA HA ! No hablo español / inglés cuts both ways, amigo.
As we drove through the village of Xpujil ( Shpuhill ) I noticed an agua purificado plant. I stopped and took in an empty five gallon water jug to be refilled. They sterilized the jug, filled it with purified water, capped it, and sealed it. The charge was cinco ( 5 ) pesos, about 37 cents. Pretty good deal ! In Texas I paid 75 cents just for a cap for the water jug. At the outskirts of one village I had to slow down almost to a stop to allow about a dozen domestic goats to cross the road. At another village I had to slow down almost to a stop to allow four pigs to cross the road. Bo had never seen pigs before. He didn't know whether to wind his watch, take a s**t, or steal third base. HA HA HA !
Many of the tractor trailer trucks have little red, rigid ( probably plastic ) pennants sticking out of the sides of the truck and trailer on the driver's side to help oncoming vehicles define exactly where the edge of the truck is, because of the incredibly narrow roads. Today on one of those very narrow sections of road, when an oncoming tractor trailer passed by me, both of us doing highway speeds, one of his little pennants tapped against my driver's side exterior mirror. That's how narrow some of Mexico's highways are !
After taking nine hours to drive 500 km. / 300 mi. we finally arrived at Palenque. Church's Camping In Mexico book lists only one campground near Palenque that is big rig friendly, Los Leones, attached to a restaurant and hotel. When we arrived we found that the campground was no longer in business ( sigh ). We went a few miles down the road, to Maya Bell Campground, listed in Church's book as suitable only for small rigs, noted for its funky population of inhabitants of Volkswagen camper vans. It was very difficult to enter. It was even more difficult to get backed into one of the narrow, small, steeply sloped, wet, muddy entry campsites. I couldn't get backed in in 2WD. I shifted into 4WD HI and still couldn't back in. Geeeeezzzzz ... this was exactly the type of steeply sloped campsite that I was trying to back into that blew out the transmission on our previous truck Dee-Dee ... twice ! I shifted into 4WD LO and backed in without a problem. Good girl, Lanoire. She passed through 110,000 trouble free km. today !
WOW ... what an exotic jungle campground. Thick, jungle plants and flowers. Howler monkeys up in the jungle trees. A large, open air restaurant with live entertainment nightly. We could hear the very pleasant Mexican folk music in our trailer. Sure enough, the campground was full of Volkswagen camper vans, filled with old Quebecois and young hippie California surfer dude types sitting around playing guitars. But when we arrived, tired after a long day of hard driving, we had a lot of "kitchen chaos" to deal with. A kitchen cupboard had opened, spilling its contents behind the retracted slide, including a covered bowl of brown sugar. Of course, the lid had popped off. The cutlery drawer came open, fell out and broke, spilling cutlery all over. Some of it had slid under the slide, of course. While Joanne cleaned up the mess, I repaired the damaged cutlery drawer. Then we dealt with the very difficult task of trying to get the spilled cutlery out from underneath the slide before extending it. We had a minor accident, crushing Joanne's hand slightly under the slide. It could have been a lot worse. Close call ! Just a bruised hand, nothing broken.
It took two hours to get everything cleaned up and / or repaired. By then it was dark, and we hadn't set up yet, except for connecting the electricity. I hooked up the water and sewer in the dark. We had a simple supper, walked Bo, Joanne did dishes, I did my daily journal entry, and we were ready for bed. Long, tough day ! Hope the Palenque ruins are worth it ! With the windows open we fell asleep listening to the trio of Flamenco guitarists playing in the restaurant.
Friday ; Today was sunny and warm, a perfect "June 18" day in the jungle. This morning I took care of some more minor maintenance before we headed off to visit our fifth and final Mayan ruins. We took Bo for a long walk around the jungle campground. We are in the "lower" campground, a series of small, serviced sites for small RV's. The "upper" campground is deeper in the jungle behind us. It's a series of tenting sites, each tent site covered by a thatched roof palapa.
Our campground was about a mile and a half from the entrance to the ruins. A neighbour suggested we take a collectivo to the ruins, because it's uphill, then walk back home downhill. That's what we did. The collectivo fare was 10 pesos each, about 74 cents. A collectivo is a van employed as a communal taxi / short haul bus. They're everywhere. We walked out of the campground, and the first vehicle that came down the road was a collectivo, running between the village of Palenque and the archaeological site, and everything in between.
The Mayan ruins at Palenque are the oldest ruins of the five we've visited. They date back to 100 B.C.. Before entering the archeological site we walked around the small collection of vendors outside the entrance. This was likely the most exotic place we are going to visit this year, so we bought some unique gifts for ourselves and family. Joanne has been encouraging me to buy a Mayan Indian shirt, called a Guayabera, to go along with the Huipile dress I bought her at Uxmal for her birthday. Today I saw what I wanted, and bought it. We are in the state of Chiapas. The Chiapas Indians produce clothing and handicrafts that are unique to this tribal area, although the clothing does have an obvious Guatemalan influence. I bought myself a Chiapas Indian shirt. Joanne bought herself a Chiapas Indian blouse and a Chiapas Indian head scarf.
We entered the ruins and spent a few hours wandering around and taking photos. You would think we would be "Mayan ruined out" by now, but each one has been different, and interesting. What was special about the ruins at Palenque was the jungle setting. By about 1:00 P.M. we were getting tired and hungry. We exited the ruins site, and found an old woman and young man ( mother and son ? ) selling tortas and tacos at a small stand. Joanne had a torta de cerdo ( shredded pork sandwich on a bun ) and I had cuatro tacos, dos de res y dos de pollo ( 4 tacos, 2 shredded beef and 2 chicken ). We shared a glass of fresh orange juice. By fresh I mean ... the old woman squeezed four oranges to make our glass of juice. After lunch, and finishing our gift shopping, we walked home to the campground, stopping frequently to marvel at the jungle flowers and plants. The same flowers and plants that you can buy back home, in little tiny pots, but hundreds of times larger, growing wild. WOW !
We are sitting outside now on this gorgeous, sunny, warm afternoon, me working on my laptop, Joanne resting, Bo on his tie out, Teddy in his tent snoozing, surrounded by flowering jungle foliage and bamboo trees. A little girl in a bathing suit has just come by to visit Bo. She speaks French with an unusual dialect. Her name is Dziya. She is 4½ years old. She doesn't know the name of the country she is from, but we think it may be Belgium.
We have just "relocated" to the swimming pool of the campground. Joanne said she could not pass up the opportunity to wade in a pool fed by a jungle stream. I'm working on the computer while sitting in a very odd wooden hammock type of chair. One of the young hippie surfer dudes is playing a guitar. Joanne has been in the jungle stream fed swimming pool for about a minute, complaining already that it's too cold. Well ... what did you expect from a jungle stream ... warm water ? ! ? A large dog has just wandered over to visit with Joanne in the pool.
We were planning to leave tomorrow, but Joanne has suggested that we stay another day, relax, have lunch in the restaurant, hike in the jungle. Seems like a fine idea ! I was just visited by an old Mexican dog who lives 5 miles away, but hobbles over to the campground on a regular basis looking for handouts. He's crippled in one leg, walks on three legs only, and has a machete wound scar on his forehead ! For the second time on this trip I have been bit by some jungle bug that leaves a large white bump surrounded by deep purple bruising, first on my upper hip at my belt line, and now on the palm of my hand.
Late in the evening Joanne invited me to sit outside in the dark on the edge of the jungle, have a cup of hot chocolate, and listen to the Flamenco guitar music coming from the restaurant. It was a somewhat magical experience. A very emaciated stray cat wandered by. With much coaxing it came over and allowed itself to be petted. Eventually I picked it up and onto my lap to be petted. Joanne decided to go inside the trailer and get some cat food for it. When she opened the trailer door, Bo stuck his head out, the cat panicked, bit me, sinking a tooth deep into my thumb, leapt off my lap and ran. Doggone it, the last time I was bit by a cat, our own cat Toby, I ended up in the hospital for two days with a runaway infection, hooked up to an intravenous antibiotic ! And perhaps even worse than the bite, the damn cat tore my "I touched a whale" t-shirt.
Saturday ; Today was another beautiful day. As planned, we spent a lazy day, mostly just relaxing. This morning I took Bo for an obedience session. Well done, Bo. I sat outside with my laptop and composed letters to family members to accompany and explain the gifts we bought yesterday. We chatted with some Quebecois neighbours who came over to introduce themselves because they saw our Escapees sticker, and they are also Escapees. After lunch I read and napped, then we went for a hike with Bo through the jungle.
We sat outside in our lawn chairs and did some trip planning for the next few days. The shortest route for us to get to where we want to be would be to travel south from here on Mex 199 over the mountains to San Cristobal de las Casas. But that route is a 175 km. stretch of road known to be dangerous for tourists. Banditos come out of the jungle and set up roadblocks, then commit armed robbery. For a truck that attracts as much attention as Lanoire, and reeks of "rich gringo", and we are now a “solo” rig, we feel it would be best not to drive this route. So we will take a much longer route to the west, through Villahermosa and Minatitlán, then south on Mex 185 across the Istmo de / Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest section of the "bottom" of Mexico, to the Golfo de / Gulf of Tehuantepec on the Pacific coast.
While we were sitting outside doing our trip planning, a Chiapas Indian man by the name of Carlos came by, showing and selling his craft. He makes a small, Chiapas Indian stringed instrument that you lay down on your lap to play. He called it a harp. It looks like a miniature harpsichord. It has a two octave range of notes. It's made out of cawoba, a local wood ( which I determined ... tomorrow ... is mahogany ). He explained it, he played it ... I bought it ! He included about a dozen song sheets that lay under the strings and show which notes to pluck to play the song, a spare "B" guitar string, which is what he uses to string the instrument, and a makeshift guitar pick made from a piece cut from a phone card. I guess down here you can't just run over to a local music store to buy guitar picks. He showed me how to tune it. He showed me how to replace broken strings. About half an hour later he returned with about another dozen or so song sheets to sell me. HA HA HA ... very good salesmanship, Carlos ! I sat around in the afternoon teaching myself to play Happy Birthday, The Wedding March, and Spanish Eyes.
WOW ... this place is addictive ! Our guide book describes the Maya Bell as "funky", and that it is ! Nieces, take note ; when Uncle Dan is old and senile and drooling, don't send me to a nursing home. Just convert whatever money I have left into pesos and send me down to the Maya Bell in Palenque to live on the edge of the jungle in a little thatched roof palapa, eating fish every day in the restaurant. Joanne wanted to go to the restaurant for supper tonight. It's a night I will long remember. The Maya Bell Restaurant is a "fancy", open air restaurant. Well, everything down here is "open air", with thatched roofs, but no walls. Despite a quite sophisticated menu, the restaurant is "autoservicio". You place your order with a waitress behind a counter. She writes your order. You pay her and take your order to the kitchen window and hand it to the cook. He calls you in twenty minutes or so when your meal is ready. I had Mojarro Veracruzano, a whole Mojarro fish baked in a tomato sauce with olives and some kind of hot, green chile peppers, probably jalapeños or habañeros. Joanne had a chicken breast stuffed with some kind of jungle fungus mushrooms. Both dishes were excellent. To drink I had jugo de piña con leche, fresh pineapple juice with ... I guess it's like sweetened condensed milk. Sort of a Mexican version of a pineapple milkshake. Tonight’s dinner was far and away superior to the rather mundane dinner we had on Joanne’s birthday. And a lot cheaper !
Every night from 8:00 to 10:00 P.M. there is live entertainment in the restaurant. Two groups, each play for an hour. Tonight's first group was two men, swarthy, with long, black, wild, tangled hair. Maybe local Chiapas Indians. They played a large assortment of stringed and wind instruments. With the exception of guitars, the instruments were unrecognizable to us. Their music was a hypnotic, upbeat ... I don't know ... Latin America jungle music ! The second group was three men and a woman. The men were again swarthy, with long, dark, wild tangled hair. They may have been from Central America, which, actually, starts just a few miles from here. The woman was a lithe young blonde, with long, wild, tangled hair ( pant, pant ). Long, wild, tangled or dreadlocked hair seems to be the norm around here. The men all played guitars. The woman played some kind of a flute. The first half of their set was ... I could only call it “jungle jazz”. The second half of their set was Flamenco. WHEW ... I was sweating just watching them play !
The cost of our dinner and the cost of our campsite, together, cost less than the cost of the campsite back at Paa Mul. And this place in the jungle is far more interesting and appealing. Eat your hearts out, Kevin and Sandy ! ! !
Gee, the Howler monkeys, known to us norteamericanos as baboons, were noisy tonight. Shortly after we went to sleep there was a gunshot out in the jungle. That started the neighbour's large dog barking loudly. That started Bo barking. I mumbled "I wonder what somebody would be shooting out in the jungle at this time of night ?" Joanne's half asleep reply was "Guatemalans ?" HA HA HA !
Sunday ; Palenque, Chiapas through Tabasco to Sayula, Veracruz
This morning we reluctantly left Maya Bell Campground. Our stay here has been the highlight of our trip so far, I think. We drove back to the village of Palenque and found a parking spot on the street near the Super Che grocery store. Super Che is the bulk / "warehouse" version of Chedraui. After we replenished groceries we headed out of town, north on Mex 199 to Mex 186, then west on Mex 186. We crossed from Chiapas into Tabasco. We stopped at a Pemex in Villahermosa to refill with diesel and have lunch. Shortly after Villahermosa Mex 186 joined Mex 180. We continued west on Mex 180, crossing from Tabasco into Veracruz, going around Minatitlán instead of through it like we did when travelling in the opposite direction ! As soon as we were in the state of Veracruz, the roads became deplorable ... again ! Oh, yeah ... we remembered from a few weeks ago ! At Coatzacoalcos, as we approached a toll booth a policeman came running across the road waving at us to stop. ( sigh ) Apparently we were at a toll booth for a toll bridge on which heavy traffic is prohibited. With considerable communication difficulties, we finally figured out that we would have to back up quite a long way to get away from the toll booth lane we were in, turn around, and head out of the city to the "truck bridge". Having once backed up and turned around, we had no idea how to find the alleged "truck bridge". We eventually found it, many miles back.
At one of today's many military checkpoints we got waved over for a "random" inspection. Yeah ... right ! ! ! I stood in the bathroom hallway holding Teddy while the young soldier with a machine gun slung over his shoulder rummaged through drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. When he found my carton of cigarettes in one of the cupboards, he took out a package of cigarettes and obviously wanted me to give it to him. Not ****ing likely, ***hole ! Petty corruption pervades this country ! I pretended to not understand. No comprende Español, amigo. Search until the cows come home ... there's nothing in here that shouldn't be. But I'm not springing for a package of cigarettes as mordida to shorten the inspection ! ! !
We had heard that some of the larger Pemex stations allow overnight parking of RV's, for a reasonable fee. We were counting on finding a Pemex near Acayucan or Saluya that would allow us to boondock overnight. We didn't find one at Acayucan, but a few miles down the road at Saluya we saw a large Pemex with a sign advertising free parking for customers. We assumed that meant overnight parking. We filled up with diesel, and received permission to park overnight at the back of the lot where there were already quite a few large transport trucks. Before we could have supper I spent an hour and a half repairing broken drawers and cupboards. The cutlery drawer tracks have been damaged and repaired multiple times already, and need to be replaced, but I'm not going to replace the tracks until we're out of Mexico. In the meantime, I have devised temporary measures using bungee cords to keep the drawers closed while we bounce over Mexico's terrible roads. As soon as I can find a hardware store, I will buy some new cupboard latches and some drawer locks of some kind.
Monday ; Sayula, Veracruz to Tehuantepec, Oaxaca
Happy 5th Birthday to Bo
We knew from our experiences in the Baja last year that this trip would have days like today. Today ... I hate Mexico ! Today ... I hate Mexicans ! There ... I've said it ! ! ! It took us 8¾ hours to travel 317 km. / 198 mi. today. We were 26 km. / 16 mi. from our destination when we got detoured, and it took us another 3 hours and an additional 139 pesos / $10.30 in unnecessary tolls to get to our destination ! ! !
Today was sunny, hot, and humid. We left the Pemex in Sayula this morning heading south on Mex 185. Our objective for today was to cross from the Gulf Of Mexico coast down to the Pacific Ocean coast across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest part of Mexico. We stopped at a roadside stand near a small village when we saw that the vendor had mandarinas for sale. She also had packages of something we had never seen before ... tortillas dulce de coco / sweet tortillas made from coconut. They were paper thin, and crisp like a potato chip, although the size of a dinner plate, as large tortillas are. We enjoyed them. Bo also enjoyed them. To him, they were his "coconut dog biscuit" birthday treat. HA HA HA ! Well, that and a mandarina also for a birthday treat. The woman was also selling jars of some kind of sweet, pickled berries. I asked if they were "hobas", which we bought in Northern Mexico a few weeks ago. She said no, they were "keenchays".
We were hoping that when we crossed from Veracruz into Oaxaca ( pronounced Wah hahka ) that the roads would improve. They didn't ! I stopped twice today attempting to refill one of the large propane tanks from the trailer, and a small one for the barbecue. Our propane tanks all have OPD ( overflow protection device ) valves, required equipment on propane tanks in Canada and the United states for at least the last dozen years or so. Refilling them in the Baja and Northern Mexico hadn't been a problem. Here in the South it is. At the first propane place that we stopped, the attendant immediately recognized that he couldn’t refill our tanks. At the second place, all three attendants thought it would be "no problemo". Yeah, well ... they were wrong ! They could not get their nozzle into the small barbecue tank's valve. Despite all our tanks having the same valve, they managed to somehow wrestle their nozzle into the larger trailer tank, and partially refill it ... maybe ... hopefully. They charged me for twenty pounds of propane, in a thirty pound tank. Who knows how much propane actually got into the tank ? ! ? And who knows if they damaged the valves ?
As we were driving through the city of Juchitan, we were required, along with everybody else, to turn around and go back. The road ahead was blocked. We have no idea why ! Getting the trailer turned around in the middle of a city required backing up a considerable distance, surrounded by cars and busses all attempting to turn around, before I could back into a large enough space to turn around. The only directions we could get, in Spanish, to get through the city and back onto the highway, were to "turn left at the gas station, then turn left again". Okay ... we turned left at the gas station. Where the next left turn was supposed to be we never found out. We drove through Juchitan, then a short distance later we were in the city of Ixtaltepec. It was a small city, with narrow streets, and no obvious signage. We floundered around and through Ixtaltepec, then a short distance later we found ourselves in the small city of Ixtepec. We are travelling with a road map and an atlas. Neither one is very good ! And these small cities that aren't on the "main" highway have no signage.
We got hopelessly lost and tangled in Ixtepec. At one point, I realized as I was crossing an intersection, that our road changed from two way to one way. We were supposed to have turned right at the intersection we had just driven through. The same thing happened to us a couple of times near Cancún. Mexico's road signage varies from extremely poor to non-existent. The locals know what to do, and where, but tourists are left "in the dark". Joanne had to go behind the trailer, and stop rush hour traffic, as I backed up through the intersection. And Mexican drivers are not courteous towards tourists who are uncertain or have made a mistake. A little while later, while still twisted around, on a narrow two lane street made into one lane by parked cars, I stopped at an intersection to consider who had the right of way, me or the oncoming cart drawn by two oxen ? ! ? I thought it prudent to wait for the oxen cart to get to the intersection and around me before proceeding.
The ordeal was excruciating. Finally we managed to get out of the city and onto a country road. It eventually crossed the toll highway. Hallelujah ! A road going somewhere that we can recognize. We got on the toll road, and almost immediately came to a toll booth. We paid the toll and continued. A short distance later, the highway into Tehuantepec crossed the toll highway. Except that now we were on the west side of Tehuantepec and the campground we had been heading to was on the east side of the city. Joanne wanted to turn towards Tehuantepec. I was tired, frustrated, disgusted, wanted my money’s worth out of the toll, and didn’t want to drive through another city, encountering hundreds of topes in the process. I decided to stay on the toll road until the next city, Salina Cruz, and find a Pemex to stay at overnight. ( sigh ) Just before Salina Cruz we had to pass through another toll booth. We crawled all the way through Salina Cruz looking for a Pemex to stay at overnight. Two were too small for overnight parking. One was large enough but wouldn’t permit it. We crawled down the congested free highway back to Tehuantepec. Same story with the Pemex stations there. We crawled over another few hundred topes and made it across the city to the campground that we were initially headed for. The second toll was completely wasted ! And even the first one would have been unnecessary if we hadn’t been forced to turn around in Juchitan.
What a tiring, disgusting experience ! When we arrived at the ****hole of a campground, ( with no services, for 150 pesos a night ! ), there was one other rig there. They had arrived just a few minutes before us. And although they had started from a different city this morning than we had, their route was almost identical to ours. They had actually passed us while were stopped on the side of the road having lunch in La Ventosa. And their day’s ordeal was almost exactly the same as ours. Except ... perhaps even a little worse ! While they were lost and floundering around in Ixtepec, they hooked a low hanging electrical wire with the top of their fifth wheel, and got stuck under the wire. They had to get some help to get the wire lifted while they got untangled and backed away. A few days ago they smashed their air conditioner shroud on a low hanging branch. Their air conditioner is now covered by a tarp with a lot of duct tape. But ... they have travelled through Mexico by RV previously, enjoy it, and are somewhat philosophical about the trials and tribulations. Although today really did get to them !
Our final indignity of the day was to discover that a quart of Joanne’s beloved Yomi Lala chocolate milk drink had burst in the cupboard. Fresh milk is rare here in Mexico. Most of the time we have to accept buying UHT ( ultra heat treated ) milk in quart sized “drinking boxes”, like fruit juice comes in. All that bouncing around over topes caused one of the boxes to just self-destruct at the seams. A cupboard full of chocolate milk, leaking out, across the floor and under the slide ! ( huge sigh ! )
Tuesday ; Tehuantepec to Puerto Angel, Oaxaca
Happy 60th Birthday to my sister Sharon
What a dolt I've been. Like ... duh ... I coulda had a V-8 ! I've finally figured it out. We have been getting waved over for "random" inspections at many of the frequent military checkpoints. I've thought that the soldiers were simply curious to see inside a "rich" gringo RV. I've been smiling, and friendly, and attempting to speak to the soldiers in Spanish ... until yesterday and today. The soldiers never want to inspect in the outer storage compartments of the trailer. They never want to inspect in the bathroom or bedroom closets or drawers. They're only interested in the fridge and the kitchen cupboards. The fridge is always the first thing they open. The corrupt ( by Canadian and American standards, not by Mexican ) buggers want mordida. They're looking for a cold drink to be offered, or a snack, or perhaps some cigarettes. Yesterday left a sour taste in my mouth. I hadn't completely worn that off this morning when we were stopped yet again ... for the first of two times today. I put on my best scowl, and my most hostile voice, and refused to say anything other than "I don't speak Spanish", said in English ! It was nice to see that "I still got it" ! HA HA HA ... my best ( worst ? ) hostile routine can intimidate even a soldier toting a machine gun. At the second military checkpoint, the soldier who came over to inspect us spoke a few words of English. I began bitching and complaining as soon as I rolled down my truck window that I was sick and tired of being inspected at every military checkpoint, every two hours ! By the time I had walked around the truck and trailer to the trailer door, and was unlocking it, the soldier was attempting to stifle my bitching by telling me that these inspections were "federal law". When I barked "BULLSHIT !" at him, he looked exasperated, realized he was wasting his time trying to get any mordida from such a hostile gringo, and told me I could leave. Now that we know that hostility shortens the "inspection" because they realize the futility of trying to get mordida, the strategy we will try at our next "inspection" will be to send Joanne to open the trailer and watch the soldier conduct the "inspection". We suspect that the Mexican machismo soldiers will be reluctant to attempt mordida with an "old" gringo woman. Maybe the word got passed down the line, because at the third military checkpoint today, they just waved us through.
Today was sunny, hot, and humid ! We left our "campground" ( rolling eyes ) this morning, and wrestled our way through the city of Tehuantepac. We stopped at a large Pemex to refill with diesel. Joanne suggested we attempt to start paying for our diesel purchases with a credit card, to conserve our rapidly dwindling cash. Some of the larger Pemex stations accept credit cards. While the attendant was gone to process our credit card, Joanne began to wash the truck windshield. When he came back he hustled over to help Joanne, and promptly broke a windshield wiper on the truck ! ! ! That didn't do much to improve my mood. A few miles after Tehuantepec we wrestled our way through the city of Salina Cruz, then got stopped at the first military checkpoint we came to. It worked to my advantage that I was already crabby because of the broken windshield wiper.
We drove west along the Pacific coast on Mex 200. We passed by Huatulco. I recall that my brother and his family had a fly in vacation to an all inclusive resort in Huatulco when it was a fledgling resort area, quite a few years ago. As a resort area, Huatulco seems to have never got off the ground. Another failure of Fonatur, the Mexican Federal Government's Department of Tourism Development. Last year and this year we have seen quite a few of Fonatur's failures.
As I'm typing this outside the trailer at 5:30 P.M. Teddy is beside me in his tent. A couple of chickens have just walked by, clucking softly as they look into the tent at Teddy. Teddy is stunned ! HA HA HA ... what's the matter, Teddy ? Never been stared at by a chicken before ?
Yesterday and today we have been driving through areas of Mexico that seem awfully backwards, even by Mexican standards. We have seen a number of twig framed mud huts. Children up to about five years old are naked. Children up to about twelve years old have no shoes. We continue to hand out CANADA pencils to children between about five and ten years of age that we encounter. In Northern Mexico the children were thrilled. But down here on the southern coast, the children seem afraid of gringos, puzzled by our offering, and reluctant to come over to take a pencil. So we have been just tossing it near them.
We stopped for the night at Puerto Angel. It took us about 6 hours today to drive 223 km. / 139 miles. I think we might stay here tomorrow, and get rested up on nearby Zipolite Beach before tackling the long drive to Acapulco. I think Zipolite was some Mexican Revolution hero. I'm not sure we can make it from here to Acapulco in just one day. The campground here is reasonably decent. Or my standards are getting lower ? We have 15 amp, ungrounded, incorrectly wired electricity, and water. No sewer. Our campsite has an outdoor shower, "enclosed" by thatched walls. When we arrived I was so hot and sticky I put on my bathing suit and had a cold shower, scrubbing off accumulated road grime. It was great. The "cold water only" shower isn't really cold. The water comes out of the faucet barely cool.
Joanne and Teddy are finding the weather to be too hot and humid here along the Pacific coast in Southern Mexico. Joanne was feeling a bit “heat ill” today. When we arrived here at Puerto Angel we found Teddy dehydrated, laying on our bed, having lapsed into his “I lie down and die now” mode, which happened once before, a couple of months ago in the Rio Grande Valley. We don’t know whether he’s become too senile to remember to drink when he’s hot, or is it too difficult for him to walk over to his water dish and drink while we’re bouncing along over Mexico’s tope and pothole filled roads ? We administered four syringes of cold water to him over a two hour period, until he was rehydrated and perked up.
Wednesday ; Today was another sunny, hot, humid day. I started my day with a very refreshing cool shower in our campsite's thatched wall outdoor shower. I tried repairing the broken windshield wiper with the remarkable glue I bought at a flea market in Yuma a year ago, but the glue has dried out. Darn ... I’ll have to get more when we get to Yuma in about a month.
This campground is called La Palmera, and not surprisingly, it's filled with coconut palms. There are so many coconuts the owner dumps them in a pile at the edge of the jungle. The coconuts here are hard and brown. The ones I picked near Cancún were green and soft. I took one from the pile here today, to see if the milk and the fruit are better than the ones I picked near Cancún. I sawed it open, and got the milk, but there was no "meat" inside, just fibres. I'll drink the milk tomorrow morning after it's chilled.
Our next door neighbours are a French speaking couple from Switzerland. This morning the lady came over to see if we want to participate in today's bulk purchase of fish by the occupants of the campground, when a local fisherman comes by with his daily catch, as he does every day. Yes, we do ! He usually has a daily catch of about 20 kg. of dorado, which he usually sells for 110 pesos per kilogram. Sometimes his daily catch is tuna. Later in the morning a man came by selling freshly caught shrimp. ( bulging eyes ) HUGE SHRIMP ! He was selling a large bag full for 110 pesos. I didn't want a full bag, so I negotiated to purchase half a bag for 50 pesos. We decided to freeze them individually, for ease of barbecuing, so we rinsed them and laid them out on pie plates to be put into the freezer. There were thirteen giant shrimp, for 50 pesos / $3.75 ! After they were frozen I packaged then into 3 meals for one, since Joanne doesn't eat shrimp. Wow ... 3 shrimp dinners for me at $1.25 each.
After lunch we walked about a block over to Playa ( Beach ) Zipolite. Very, very nice ! ! ! We were a bit startled by all the naked people walking on the beach and romping in the surf. We set up our beach umbrella and lawn chairs on top of the ridge in the sand left by high tide, and spent the afternoon resting on the beach, me reading a book. The Pacific Ocean surf was quite large. I watched some people body surfing and decided to give it a try. HA HA HA HA HA ... what a lot of fun I had ! Late in the afternoon we wanted a snack. Joanne walked out to the road, heading for a nearby convenience store to buy a couple of ice cream treats. As she got to the road, there was a man on a bicycle cart, selling ... four flavours of home made ice cream. She bought two huge bowls of ice cream for 30 pesos / a bit less than $2.50. Mine had fresh coconut in it ... as well as a few little pieces of coconut shell ... HA HA HA. We watched 5 dogs romping on the beach and playing in the surf. A couple of them were actually "doggie body surfing", running out into the surf as a wave would retreat, then turning around just as the next wave would hit them, picking them up and carrying them back onto the beach. HA HA HA HA HA ... I've never seen dogs body surfing before !
When we returned to our campground our neighbour lady had our fish purchase waiting for us. Five large fillets of dorado, a.k.a. mahi-mahi, for 100 pesos. Each fillet is large enough for a meal for two. Five meals for two for $7.50 ! We took Bo for an obedience session. He was unfocused and did poorly. We chatted with a fairly young couple of full time RV'ers from Canada's Yukon Territory. We swapped RV'ing in Mexico horror stories. They hit a low hanging branch that punctured a hole in their fiberglass motorhome and shattered the solar panel on their roof, and their driver's side exterior mirror has been clipped and shattered. I took our neighbour's recommendation and picked some of the fruit growing in our campsite, some kind of a lemon and mandarin hybrid, for my Diet Coke. I processed the photos I took on the beach today, including a photo of a naked couple walking by. That's probably a violation of nude beach protocol, but hey... I'm Canadian, eh ?
The fish we had for supper tonight had been swimming in the Pacific Ocean less than seven hours before we ate it. Now that's fresh ! ! ! I prepared filete de dorado frito con gusto Cajun de Daniel. This was the third time I prepared fish this way, my own recipe creation, and I have perfected it !
Late in the evening we went for a moonlight walk on the beach. It was ... romantic. I can't remember how many years it's been since we walked on a beach at night.
DSK
Thursday ; Chetumal, Quintana Roo through Campeche ( state ) and Tabasco to Palenque, Chiapas
Today was sunny and hot. We expected a long, difficult day. It tuned out to be even longer and more difficult than expected. We got up very early, and were out of Yax Há RV Resort before 8:00 A.M.. We knew we had to make it to Palenque before dark. Chetumal to Palenque is a dangerous area, more so for RV's travelling solo, much less so during daylight. It's one of two dangerous areas we have to drive through. Chetumal to Palenque is 500 km. / 300 mi. on Mex 186 running inland from the Caribbean, following along the Mexican border with Belize and Guatemala. That's about twice the distance we would normally drive in a day, given the difficult roads in Mexico.
Before leaving Yax Há RV Resort I wanted to dip Lanoire's tires in the Caribbean. Previously I have driven her through the surf on the Atlantic Ocean, the Pacific Ocean, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Sea of Cortez. This was her last opportunity to be dipped in the Caribbean. I considered unhitching her from Harvey, and driving her down Yax Há's boat launch ramp until her tires were in the water, but I decided it was too much effort to unhitch and rehitch. I settled for pouring a cup of Caribbean water on her tires.
Driving through the city of Chetumal I decided to refill with diesel. I pulled up to the diesel pump at a Pemex station, got out and put some Lucas diesel fuel additive in the tank. I turned around to wipe my hands, and when I looked back, the attendant was rushing to get the filler nozzle into the tank and start pumping ... before he zeroed the pump. There was still 100 pesos showing on the pump from the last sale. It's a common gringo rip-off in Mexico, and one must be constantly vigilant to ensure that the pump is zeroed before filling begins. I glared at the attendant and pointed at the pump display. As is always the case with the frequent attempts to rip off the gringo, he looked sheepish, mumbled an apology, and pretended that it was an honest mistake. Admittedly, it's happening less frequently this year in mainland Mexico than it did last year in the Baja, and I reluctantly accept it as part of the Mexico experience, but it's one of the three things I dislike most about Mexico.
As we drove west from Chetumal on Mex 186, the jungles of Belize were on our left. When I stopped on the side of the road to empty my bladder, there was a very strong fragrance of mint. I had stopped beside some manner of mint jungle. Very pleasant aroma ! Belize is a "narrow" country, north to south, so before too long we were driving along the border with Guatemala to our left. Northern Guatemala is uninhabited jungle, except for the smugglers and banditos who come out of the jungle and cross into Mexico on Mex 186. As a result, there were many military checkpoints along the road today. Only the first one stopped us for an inspection. The soldier wanted to see our vehicle importation document, and my driver's license to verify that the name on the two documents were the same.
We had failed to notice that we were going to have to re-enter the state of Campeche today. Campeche has food restrictions. When we got to the border crossing from Quintana Roo into Campeche, we were stopped for a food inspection. Knowing that we had chicken in the freezer and eggs in the fridge, both not allowed into Campeche, I used a tactic suggested to us by our Baja caravan leader last year. When the inspector came over, I told him in English that I spoke only English, no Spanish. Fortunately for me, he spoke no English, unlike the inspectors we encountered at the northern crossing into Campeche a couple of weeks ago. He motioned that he wanted to see inside the trailer. I opened the door, he walked in, looked at the fridge, and sighed, knowing that explaining the restrictions to me in Spanish would be incomprehensible. To satisfy himself, or his boss, that he fulfilled his obligation to inspect us, he turned away from the fridge without opening it, opened a kitchen cupboard door, looked at the package of dog biscuits at the front of the cupboard, closed the door, and indicated to me that he was done. HA HA HA ! No hablo español / inglés cuts both ways, amigo.
As we drove through the village of Xpujil ( Shpuhill ) I noticed an agua purificado plant. I stopped and took in an empty five gallon water jug to be refilled. They sterilized the jug, filled it with purified water, capped it, and sealed it. The charge was cinco ( 5 ) pesos, about 37 cents. Pretty good deal ! In Texas I paid 75 cents just for a cap for the water jug. At the outskirts of one village I had to slow down almost to a stop to allow about a dozen domestic goats to cross the road. At another village I had to slow down almost to a stop to allow four pigs to cross the road. Bo had never seen pigs before. He didn't know whether to wind his watch, take a s**t, or steal third base. HA HA HA !
Many of the tractor trailer trucks have little red, rigid ( probably plastic ) pennants sticking out of the sides of the truck and trailer on the driver's side to help oncoming vehicles define exactly where the edge of the truck is, because of the incredibly narrow roads. Today on one of those very narrow sections of road, when an oncoming tractor trailer passed by me, both of us doing highway speeds, one of his little pennants tapped against my driver's side exterior mirror. That's how narrow some of Mexico's highways are !
After taking nine hours to drive 500 km. / 300 mi. we finally arrived at Palenque. Church's Camping In Mexico book lists only one campground near Palenque that is big rig friendly, Los Leones, attached to a restaurant and hotel. When we arrived we found that the campground was no longer in business ( sigh ). We went a few miles down the road, to Maya Bell Campground, listed in Church's book as suitable only for small rigs, noted for its funky population of inhabitants of Volkswagen camper vans. It was very difficult to enter. It was even more difficult to get backed into one of the narrow, small, steeply sloped, wet, muddy entry campsites. I couldn't get backed in in 2WD. I shifted into 4WD HI and still couldn't back in. Geeeeezzzzz ... this was exactly the type of steeply sloped campsite that I was trying to back into that blew out the transmission on our previous truck Dee-Dee ... twice ! I shifted into 4WD LO and backed in without a problem. Good girl, Lanoire. She passed through 110,000 trouble free km. today !
WOW ... what an exotic jungle campground. Thick, jungle plants and flowers. Howler monkeys up in the jungle trees. A large, open air restaurant with live entertainment nightly. We could hear the very pleasant Mexican folk music in our trailer. Sure enough, the campground was full of Volkswagen camper vans, filled with old Quebecois and young hippie California surfer dude types sitting around playing guitars. But when we arrived, tired after a long day of hard driving, we had a lot of "kitchen chaos" to deal with. A kitchen cupboard had opened, spilling its contents behind the retracted slide, including a covered bowl of brown sugar. Of course, the lid had popped off. The cutlery drawer came open, fell out and broke, spilling cutlery all over. Some of it had slid under the slide, of course. While Joanne cleaned up the mess, I repaired the damaged cutlery drawer. Then we dealt with the very difficult task of trying to get the spilled cutlery out from underneath the slide before extending it. We had a minor accident, crushing Joanne's hand slightly under the slide. It could have been a lot worse. Close call ! Just a bruised hand, nothing broken.
It took two hours to get everything cleaned up and / or repaired. By then it was dark, and we hadn't set up yet, except for connecting the electricity. I hooked up the water and sewer in the dark. We had a simple supper, walked Bo, Joanne did dishes, I did my daily journal entry, and we were ready for bed. Long, tough day ! Hope the Palenque ruins are worth it ! With the windows open we fell asleep listening to the trio of Flamenco guitarists playing in the restaurant.
Friday ; Today was sunny and warm, a perfect "June 18" day in the jungle. This morning I took care of some more minor maintenance before we headed off to visit our fifth and final Mayan ruins. We took Bo for a long walk around the jungle campground. We are in the "lower" campground, a series of small, serviced sites for small RV's. The "upper" campground is deeper in the jungle behind us. It's a series of tenting sites, each tent site covered by a thatched roof palapa.
Our campground was about a mile and a half from the entrance to the ruins. A neighbour suggested we take a collectivo to the ruins, because it's uphill, then walk back home downhill. That's what we did. The collectivo fare was 10 pesos each, about 74 cents. A collectivo is a van employed as a communal taxi / short haul bus. They're everywhere. We walked out of the campground, and the first vehicle that came down the road was a collectivo, running between the village of Palenque and the archaeological site, and everything in between.
The Mayan ruins at Palenque are the oldest ruins of the five we've visited. They date back to 100 B.C.. Before entering the archeological site we walked around the small collection of vendors outside the entrance. This was likely the most exotic place we are going to visit this year, so we bought some unique gifts for ourselves and family. Joanne has been encouraging me to buy a Mayan Indian shirt, called a Guayabera, to go along with the Huipile dress I bought her at Uxmal for her birthday. Today I saw what I wanted, and bought it. We are in the state of Chiapas. The Chiapas Indians produce clothing and handicrafts that are unique to this tribal area, although the clothing does have an obvious Guatemalan influence. I bought myself a Chiapas Indian shirt. Joanne bought herself a Chiapas Indian blouse and a Chiapas Indian head scarf.
We entered the ruins and spent a few hours wandering around and taking photos. You would think we would be "Mayan ruined out" by now, but each one has been different, and interesting. What was special about the ruins at Palenque was the jungle setting. By about 1:00 P.M. we were getting tired and hungry. We exited the ruins site, and found an old woman and young man ( mother and son ? ) selling tortas and tacos at a small stand. Joanne had a torta de cerdo ( shredded pork sandwich on a bun ) and I had cuatro tacos, dos de res y dos de pollo ( 4 tacos, 2 shredded beef and 2 chicken ). We shared a glass of fresh orange juice. By fresh I mean ... the old woman squeezed four oranges to make our glass of juice. After lunch, and finishing our gift shopping, we walked home to the campground, stopping frequently to marvel at the jungle flowers and plants. The same flowers and plants that you can buy back home, in little tiny pots, but hundreds of times larger, growing wild. WOW !
We are sitting outside now on this gorgeous, sunny, warm afternoon, me working on my laptop, Joanne resting, Bo on his tie out, Teddy in his tent snoozing, surrounded by flowering jungle foliage and bamboo trees. A little girl in a bathing suit has just come by to visit Bo. She speaks French with an unusual dialect. Her name is Dziya. She is 4½ years old. She doesn't know the name of the country she is from, but we think it may be Belgium.
We have just "relocated" to the swimming pool of the campground. Joanne said she could not pass up the opportunity to wade in a pool fed by a jungle stream. I'm working on the computer while sitting in a very odd wooden hammock type of chair. One of the young hippie surfer dudes is playing a guitar. Joanne has been in the jungle stream fed swimming pool for about a minute, complaining already that it's too cold. Well ... what did you expect from a jungle stream ... warm water ? ! ? A large dog has just wandered over to visit with Joanne in the pool.
We were planning to leave tomorrow, but Joanne has suggested that we stay another day, relax, have lunch in the restaurant, hike in the jungle. Seems like a fine idea ! I was just visited by an old Mexican dog who lives 5 miles away, but hobbles over to the campground on a regular basis looking for handouts. He's crippled in one leg, walks on three legs only, and has a machete wound scar on his forehead ! For the second time on this trip I have been bit by some jungle bug that leaves a large white bump surrounded by deep purple bruising, first on my upper hip at my belt line, and now on the palm of my hand.
Late in the evening Joanne invited me to sit outside in the dark on the edge of the jungle, have a cup of hot chocolate, and listen to the Flamenco guitar music coming from the restaurant. It was a somewhat magical experience. A very emaciated stray cat wandered by. With much coaxing it came over and allowed itself to be petted. Eventually I picked it up and onto my lap to be petted. Joanne decided to go inside the trailer and get some cat food for it. When she opened the trailer door, Bo stuck his head out, the cat panicked, bit me, sinking a tooth deep into my thumb, leapt off my lap and ran. Doggone it, the last time I was bit by a cat, our own cat Toby, I ended up in the hospital for two days with a runaway infection, hooked up to an intravenous antibiotic ! And perhaps even worse than the bite, the damn cat tore my "I touched a whale" t-shirt.
Saturday ; Today was another beautiful day. As planned, we spent a lazy day, mostly just relaxing. This morning I took Bo for an obedience session. Well done, Bo. I sat outside with my laptop and composed letters to family members to accompany and explain the gifts we bought yesterday. We chatted with some Quebecois neighbours who came over to introduce themselves because they saw our Escapees sticker, and they are also Escapees. After lunch I read and napped, then we went for a hike with Bo through the jungle.
We sat outside in our lawn chairs and did some trip planning for the next few days. The shortest route for us to get to where we want to be would be to travel south from here on Mex 199 over the mountains to San Cristobal de las Casas. But that route is a 175 km. stretch of road known to be dangerous for tourists. Banditos come out of the jungle and set up roadblocks, then commit armed robbery. For a truck that attracts as much attention as Lanoire, and reeks of "rich gringo", and we are now a “solo” rig, we feel it would be best not to drive this route. So we will take a much longer route to the west, through Villahermosa and Minatitlán, then south on Mex 185 across the Istmo de / Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest section of the "bottom" of Mexico, to the Golfo de / Gulf of Tehuantepec on the Pacific coast.
While we were sitting outside doing our trip planning, a Chiapas Indian man by the name of Carlos came by, showing and selling his craft. He makes a small, Chiapas Indian stringed instrument that you lay down on your lap to play. He called it a harp. It looks like a miniature harpsichord. It has a two octave range of notes. It's made out of cawoba, a local wood ( which I determined ... tomorrow ... is mahogany ). He explained it, he played it ... I bought it ! He included about a dozen song sheets that lay under the strings and show which notes to pluck to play the song, a spare "B" guitar string, which is what he uses to string the instrument, and a makeshift guitar pick made from a piece cut from a phone card. I guess down here you can't just run over to a local music store to buy guitar picks. He showed me how to tune it. He showed me how to replace broken strings. About half an hour later he returned with about another dozen or so song sheets to sell me. HA HA HA ... very good salesmanship, Carlos ! I sat around in the afternoon teaching myself to play Happy Birthday, The Wedding March, and Spanish Eyes.
WOW ... this place is addictive ! Our guide book describes the Maya Bell as "funky", and that it is ! Nieces, take note ; when Uncle Dan is old and senile and drooling, don't send me to a nursing home. Just convert whatever money I have left into pesos and send me down to the Maya Bell in Palenque to live on the edge of the jungle in a little thatched roof palapa, eating fish every day in the restaurant. Joanne wanted to go to the restaurant for supper tonight. It's a night I will long remember. The Maya Bell Restaurant is a "fancy", open air restaurant. Well, everything down here is "open air", with thatched roofs, but no walls. Despite a quite sophisticated menu, the restaurant is "autoservicio". You place your order with a waitress behind a counter. She writes your order. You pay her and take your order to the kitchen window and hand it to the cook. He calls you in twenty minutes or so when your meal is ready. I had Mojarro Veracruzano, a whole Mojarro fish baked in a tomato sauce with olives and some kind of hot, green chile peppers, probably jalapeños or habañeros. Joanne had a chicken breast stuffed with some kind of jungle fungus mushrooms. Both dishes were excellent. To drink I had jugo de piña con leche, fresh pineapple juice with ... I guess it's like sweetened condensed milk. Sort of a Mexican version of a pineapple milkshake. Tonight’s dinner was far and away superior to the rather mundane dinner we had on Joanne’s birthday. And a lot cheaper !
Every night from 8:00 to 10:00 P.M. there is live entertainment in the restaurant. Two groups, each play for an hour. Tonight's first group was two men, swarthy, with long, black, wild, tangled hair. Maybe local Chiapas Indians. They played a large assortment of stringed and wind instruments. With the exception of guitars, the instruments were unrecognizable to us. Their music was a hypnotic, upbeat ... I don't know ... Latin America jungle music ! The second group was three men and a woman. The men were again swarthy, with long, dark, wild tangled hair. They may have been from Central America, which, actually, starts just a few miles from here. The woman was a lithe young blonde, with long, wild, tangled hair ( pant, pant ). Long, wild, tangled or dreadlocked hair seems to be the norm around here. The men all played guitars. The woman played some kind of a flute. The first half of their set was ... I could only call it “jungle jazz”. The second half of their set was Flamenco. WHEW ... I was sweating just watching them play !
The cost of our dinner and the cost of our campsite, together, cost less than the cost of the campsite back at Paa Mul. And this place in the jungle is far more interesting and appealing. Eat your hearts out, Kevin and Sandy ! ! !
Gee, the Howler monkeys, known to us norteamericanos as baboons, were noisy tonight. Shortly after we went to sleep there was a gunshot out in the jungle. That started the neighbour's large dog barking loudly. That started Bo barking. I mumbled "I wonder what somebody would be shooting out in the jungle at this time of night ?" Joanne's half asleep reply was "Guatemalans ?" HA HA HA !
Sunday ; Palenque, Chiapas through Tabasco to Sayula, Veracruz
This morning we reluctantly left Maya Bell Campground. Our stay here has been the highlight of our trip so far, I think. We drove back to the village of Palenque and found a parking spot on the street near the Super Che grocery store. Super Che is the bulk / "warehouse" version of Chedraui. After we replenished groceries we headed out of town, north on Mex 199 to Mex 186, then west on Mex 186. We crossed from Chiapas into Tabasco. We stopped at a Pemex in Villahermosa to refill with diesel and have lunch. Shortly after Villahermosa Mex 186 joined Mex 180. We continued west on Mex 180, crossing from Tabasco into Veracruz, going around Minatitlán instead of through it like we did when travelling in the opposite direction ! As soon as we were in the state of Veracruz, the roads became deplorable ... again ! Oh, yeah ... we remembered from a few weeks ago ! At Coatzacoalcos, as we approached a toll booth a policeman came running across the road waving at us to stop. ( sigh ) Apparently we were at a toll booth for a toll bridge on which heavy traffic is prohibited. With considerable communication difficulties, we finally figured out that we would have to back up quite a long way to get away from the toll booth lane we were in, turn around, and head out of the city to the "truck bridge". Having once backed up and turned around, we had no idea how to find the alleged "truck bridge". We eventually found it, many miles back.
At one of today's many military checkpoints we got waved over for a "random" inspection. Yeah ... right ! ! ! I stood in the bathroom hallway holding Teddy while the young soldier with a machine gun slung over his shoulder rummaged through drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. When he found my carton of cigarettes in one of the cupboards, he took out a package of cigarettes and obviously wanted me to give it to him. Not ****ing likely, ***hole ! Petty corruption pervades this country ! I pretended to not understand. No comprende Español, amigo. Search until the cows come home ... there's nothing in here that shouldn't be. But I'm not springing for a package of cigarettes as mordida to shorten the inspection ! ! !
We had heard that some of the larger Pemex stations allow overnight parking of RV's, for a reasonable fee. We were counting on finding a Pemex near Acayucan or Saluya that would allow us to boondock overnight. We didn't find one at Acayucan, but a few miles down the road at Saluya we saw a large Pemex with a sign advertising free parking for customers. We assumed that meant overnight parking. We filled up with diesel, and received permission to park overnight at the back of the lot where there were already quite a few large transport trucks. Before we could have supper I spent an hour and a half repairing broken drawers and cupboards. The cutlery drawer tracks have been damaged and repaired multiple times already, and need to be replaced, but I'm not going to replace the tracks until we're out of Mexico. In the meantime, I have devised temporary measures using bungee cords to keep the drawers closed while we bounce over Mexico's terrible roads. As soon as I can find a hardware store, I will buy some new cupboard latches and some drawer locks of some kind.
Monday ; Sayula, Veracruz to Tehuantepec, Oaxaca
Happy 5th Birthday to Bo
We knew from our experiences in the Baja last year that this trip would have days like today. Today ... I hate Mexico ! Today ... I hate Mexicans ! There ... I've said it ! ! ! It took us 8¾ hours to travel 317 km. / 198 mi. today. We were 26 km. / 16 mi. from our destination when we got detoured, and it took us another 3 hours and an additional 139 pesos / $10.30 in unnecessary tolls to get to our destination ! ! !
Today was sunny, hot, and humid. We left the Pemex in Sayula this morning heading south on Mex 185. Our objective for today was to cross from the Gulf Of Mexico coast down to the Pacific Ocean coast across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest part of Mexico. We stopped at a roadside stand near a small village when we saw that the vendor had mandarinas for sale. She also had packages of something we had never seen before ... tortillas dulce de coco / sweet tortillas made from coconut. They were paper thin, and crisp like a potato chip, although the size of a dinner plate, as large tortillas are. We enjoyed them. Bo also enjoyed them. To him, they were his "coconut dog biscuit" birthday treat. HA HA HA ! Well, that and a mandarina also for a birthday treat. The woman was also selling jars of some kind of sweet, pickled berries. I asked if they were "hobas", which we bought in Northern Mexico a few weeks ago. She said no, they were "keenchays".
We were hoping that when we crossed from Veracruz into Oaxaca ( pronounced Wah hahka ) that the roads would improve. They didn't ! I stopped twice today attempting to refill one of the large propane tanks from the trailer, and a small one for the barbecue. Our propane tanks all have OPD ( overflow protection device ) valves, required equipment on propane tanks in Canada and the United states for at least the last dozen years or so. Refilling them in the Baja and Northern Mexico hadn't been a problem. Here in the South it is. At the first propane place that we stopped, the attendant immediately recognized that he couldn’t refill our tanks. At the second place, all three attendants thought it would be "no problemo". Yeah, well ... they were wrong ! They could not get their nozzle into the small barbecue tank's valve. Despite all our tanks having the same valve, they managed to somehow wrestle their nozzle into the larger trailer tank, and partially refill it ... maybe ... hopefully. They charged me for twenty pounds of propane, in a thirty pound tank. Who knows how much propane actually got into the tank ? ! ? And who knows if they damaged the valves ?
As we were driving through the city of Juchitan, we were required, along with everybody else, to turn around and go back. The road ahead was blocked. We have no idea why ! Getting the trailer turned around in the middle of a city required backing up a considerable distance, surrounded by cars and busses all attempting to turn around, before I could back into a large enough space to turn around. The only directions we could get, in Spanish, to get through the city and back onto the highway, were to "turn left at the gas station, then turn left again". Okay ... we turned left at the gas station. Where the next left turn was supposed to be we never found out. We drove through Juchitan, then a short distance later we were in the city of Ixtaltepec. It was a small city, with narrow streets, and no obvious signage. We floundered around and through Ixtaltepec, then a short distance later we found ourselves in the small city of Ixtepec. We are travelling with a road map and an atlas. Neither one is very good ! And these small cities that aren't on the "main" highway have no signage.
We got hopelessly lost and tangled in Ixtepec. At one point, I realized as I was crossing an intersection, that our road changed from two way to one way. We were supposed to have turned right at the intersection we had just driven through. The same thing happened to us a couple of times near Cancún. Mexico's road signage varies from extremely poor to non-existent. The locals know what to do, and where, but tourists are left "in the dark". Joanne had to go behind the trailer, and stop rush hour traffic, as I backed up through the intersection. And Mexican drivers are not courteous towards tourists who are uncertain or have made a mistake. A little while later, while still twisted around, on a narrow two lane street made into one lane by parked cars, I stopped at an intersection to consider who had the right of way, me or the oncoming cart drawn by two oxen ? ! ? I thought it prudent to wait for the oxen cart to get to the intersection and around me before proceeding.
The ordeal was excruciating. Finally we managed to get out of the city and onto a country road. It eventually crossed the toll highway. Hallelujah ! A road going somewhere that we can recognize. We got on the toll road, and almost immediately came to a toll booth. We paid the toll and continued. A short distance later, the highway into Tehuantepec crossed the toll highway. Except that now we were on the west side of Tehuantepec and the campground we had been heading to was on the east side of the city. Joanne wanted to turn towards Tehuantepec. I was tired, frustrated, disgusted, wanted my money’s worth out of the toll, and didn’t want to drive through another city, encountering hundreds of topes in the process. I decided to stay on the toll road until the next city, Salina Cruz, and find a Pemex to stay at overnight. ( sigh ) Just before Salina Cruz we had to pass through another toll booth. We crawled all the way through Salina Cruz looking for a Pemex to stay at overnight. Two were too small for overnight parking. One was large enough but wouldn’t permit it. We crawled down the congested free highway back to Tehuantepec. Same story with the Pemex stations there. We crawled over another few hundred topes and made it across the city to the campground that we were initially headed for. The second toll was completely wasted ! And even the first one would have been unnecessary if we hadn’t been forced to turn around in Juchitan.
What a tiring, disgusting experience ! When we arrived at the ****hole of a campground, ( with no services, for 150 pesos a night ! ), there was one other rig there. They had arrived just a few minutes before us. And although they had started from a different city this morning than we had, their route was almost identical to ours. They had actually passed us while were stopped on the side of the road having lunch in La Ventosa. And their day’s ordeal was almost exactly the same as ours. Except ... perhaps even a little worse ! While they were lost and floundering around in Ixtepec, they hooked a low hanging electrical wire with the top of their fifth wheel, and got stuck under the wire. They had to get some help to get the wire lifted while they got untangled and backed away. A few days ago they smashed their air conditioner shroud on a low hanging branch. Their air conditioner is now covered by a tarp with a lot of duct tape. But ... they have travelled through Mexico by RV previously, enjoy it, and are somewhat philosophical about the trials and tribulations. Although today really did get to them !
Our final indignity of the day was to discover that a quart of Joanne’s beloved Yomi Lala chocolate milk drink had burst in the cupboard. Fresh milk is rare here in Mexico. Most of the time we have to accept buying UHT ( ultra heat treated ) milk in quart sized “drinking boxes”, like fruit juice comes in. All that bouncing around over topes caused one of the boxes to just self-destruct at the seams. A cupboard full of chocolate milk, leaking out, across the floor and under the slide ! ( huge sigh ! )
Tuesday ; Tehuantepec to Puerto Angel, Oaxaca
Happy 60th Birthday to my sister Sharon
What a dolt I've been. Like ... duh ... I coulda had a V-8 ! I've finally figured it out. We have been getting waved over for "random" inspections at many of the frequent military checkpoints. I've thought that the soldiers were simply curious to see inside a "rich" gringo RV. I've been smiling, and friendly, and attempting to speak to the soldiers in Spanish ... until yesterday and today. The soldiers never want to inspect in the outer storage compartments of the trailer. They never want to inspect in the bathroom or bedroom closets or drawers. They're only interested in the fridge and the kitchen cupboards. The fridge is always the first thing they open. The corrupt ( by Canadian and American standards, not by Mexican ) buggers want mordida. They're looking for a cold drink to be offered, or a snack, or perhaps some cigarettes. Yesterday left a sour taste in my mouth. I hadn't completely worn that off this morning when we were stopped yet again ... for the first of two times today. I put on my best scowl, and my most hostile voice, and refused to say anything other than "I don't speak Spanish", said in English ! It was nice to see that "I still got it" ! HA HA HA ... my best ( worst ? ) hostile routine can intimidate even a soldier toting a machine gun. At the second military checkpoint, the soldier who came over to inspect us spoke a few words of English. I began bitching and complaining as soon as I rolled down my truck window that I was sick and tired of being inspected at every military checkpoint, every two hours ! By the time I had walked around the truck and trailer to the trailer door, and was unlocking it, the soldier was attempting to stifle my bitching by telling me that these inspections were "federal law". When I barked "BULLSHIT !" at him, he looked exasperated, realized he was wasting his time trying to get any mordida from such a hostile gringo, and told me I could leave. Now that we know that hostility shortens the "inspection" because they realize the futility of trying to get mordida, the strategy we will try at our next "inspection" will be to send Joanne to open the trailer and watch the soldier conduct the "inspection". We suspect that the Mexican machismo soldiers will be reluctant to attempt mordida with an "old" gringo woman. Maybe the word got passed down the line, because at the third military checkpoint today, they just waved us through.
Today was sunny, hot, and humid ! We left our "campground" ( rolling eyes ) this morning, and wrestled our way through the city of Tehuantepac. We stopped at a large Pemex to refill with diesel. Joanne suggested we attempt to start paying for our diesel purchases with a credit card, to conserve our rapidly dwindling cash. Some of the larger Pemex stations accept credit cards. While the attendant was gone to process our credit card, Joanne began to wash the truck windshield. When he came back he hustled over to help Joanne, and promptly broke a windshield wiper on the truck ! ! ! That didn't do much to improve my mood. A few miles after Tehuantepec we wrestled our way through the city of Salina Cruz, then got stopped at the first military checkpoint we came to. It worked to my advantage that I was already crabby because of the broken windshield wiper.
We drove west along the Pacific coast on Mex 200. We passed by Huatulco. I recall that my brother and his family had a fly in vacation to an all inclusive resort in Huatulco when it was a fledgling resort area, quite a few years ago. As a resort area, Huatulco seems to have never got off the ground. Another failure of Fonatur, the Mexican Federal Government's Department of Tourism Development. Last year and this year we have seen quite a few of Fonatur's failures.
As I'm typing this outside the trailer at 5:30 P.M. Teddy is beside me in his tent. A couple of chickens have just walked by, clucking softly as they look into the tent at Teddy. Teddy is stunned ! HA HA HA ... what's the matter, Teddy ? Never been stared at by a chicken before ?
Yesterday and today we have been driving through areas of Mexico that seem awfully backwards, even by Mexican standards. We have seen a number of twig framed mud huts. Children up to about five years old are naked. Children up to about twelve years old have no shoes. We continue to hand out CANADA pencils to children between about five and ten years of age that we encounter. In Northern Mexico the children were thrilled. But down here on the southern coast, the children seem afraid of gringos, puzzled by our offering, and reluctant to come over to take a pencil. So we have been just tossing it near them.
We stopped for the night at Puerto Angel. It took us about 6 hours today to drive 223 km. / 139 miles. I think we might stay here tomorrow, and get rested up on nearby Zipolite Beach before tackling the long drive to Acapulco. I think Zipolite was some Mexican Revolution hero. I'm not sure we can make it from here to Acapulco in just one day. The campground here is reasonably decent. Or my standards are getting lower ? We have 15 amp, ungrounded, incorrectly wired electricity, and water. No sewer. Our campsite has an outdoor shower, "enclosed" by thatched walls. When we arrived I was so hot and sticky I put on my bathing suit and had a cold shower, scrubbing off accumulated road grime. It was great. The "cold water only" shower isn't really cold. The water comes out of the faucet barely cool.
Joanne and Teddy are finding the weather to be too hot and humid here along the Pacific coast in Southern Mexico. Joanne was feeling a bit “heat ill” today. When we arrived here at Puerto Angel we found Teddy dehydrated, laying on our bed, having lapsed into his “I lie down and die now” mode, which happened once before, a couple of months ago in the Rio Grande Valley. We don’t know whether he’s become too senile to remember to drink when he’s hot, or is it too difficult for him to walk over to his water dish and drink while we’re bouncing along over Mexico’s tope and pothole filled roads ? We administered four syringes of cold water to him over a two hour period, until he was rehydrated and perked up.
Wednesday ; Today was another sunny, hot, humid day. I started my day with a very refreshing cool shower in our campsite's thatched wall outdoor shower. I tried repairing the broken windshield wiper with the remarkable glue I bought at a flea market in Yuma a year ago, but the glue has dried out. Darn ... I’ll have to get more when we get to Yuma in about a month.
This campground is called La Palmera, and not surprisingly, it's filled with coconut palms. There are so many coconuts the owner dumps them in a pile at the edge of the jungle. The coconuts here are hard and brown. The ones I picked near Cancún were green and soft. I took one from the pile here today, to see if the milk and the fruit are better than the ones I picked near Cancún. I sawed it open, and got the milk, but there was no "meat" inside, just fibres. I'll drink the milk tomorrow morning after it's chilled.
Our next door neighbours are a French speaking couple from Switzerland. This morning the lady came over to see if we want to participate in today's bulk purchase of fish by the occupants of the campground, when a local fisherman comes by with his daily catch, as he does every day. Yes, we do ! He usually has a daily catch of about 20 kg. of dorado, which he usually sells for 110 pesos per kilogram. Sometimes his daily catch is tuna. Later in the morning a man came by selling freshly caught shrimp. ( bulging eyes ) HUGE SHRIMP ! He was selling a large bag full for 110 pesos. I didn't want a full bag, so I negotiated to purchase half a bag for 50 pesos. We decided to freeze them individually, for ease of barbecuing, so we rinsed them and laid them out on pie plates to be put into the freezer. There were thirteen giant shrimp, for 50 pesos / $3.75 ! After they were frozen I packaged then into 3 meals for one, since Joanne doesn't eat shrimp. Wow ... 3 shrimp dinners for me at $1.25 each.
After lunch we walked about a block over to Playa ( Beach ) Zipolite. Very, very nice ! ! ! We were a bit startled by all the naked people walking on the beach and romping in the surf. We set up our beach umbrella and lawn chairs on top of the ridge in the sand left by high tide, and spent the afternoon resting on the beach, me reading a book. The Pacific Ocean surf was quite large. I watched some people body surfing and decided to give it a try. HA HA HA HA HA ... what a lot of fun I had ! Late in the afternoon we wanted a snack. Joanne walked out to the road, heading for a nearby convenience store to buy a couple of ice cream treats. As she got to the road, there was a man on a bicycle cart, selling ... four flavours of home made ice cream. She bought two huge bowls of ice cream for 30 pesos / a bit less than $2.50. Mine had fresh coconut in it ... as well as a few little pieces of coconut shell ... HA HA HA. We watched 5 dogs romping on the beach and playing in the surf. A couple of them were actually "doggie body surfing", running out into the surf as a wave would retreat, then turning around just as the next wave would hit them, picking them up and carrying them back onto the beach. HA HA HA HA HA ... I've never seen dogs body surfing before !
When we returned to our campground our neighbour lady had our fish purchase waiting for us. Five large fillets of dorado, a.k.a. mahi-mahi, for 100 pesos. Each fillet is large enough for a meal for two. Five meals for two for $7.50 ! We took Bo for an obedience session. He was unfocused and did poorly. We chatted with a fairly young couple of full time RV'ers from Canada's Yukon Territory. We swapped RV'ing in Mexico horror stories. They hit a low hanging branch that punctured a hole in their fiberglass motorhome and shattered the solar panel on their roof, and their driver's side exterior mirror has been clipped and shattered. I took our neighbour's recommendation and picked some of the fruit growing in our campsite, some kind of a lemon and mandarin hybrid, for my Diet Coke. I processed the photos I took on the beach today, including a photo of a naked couple walking by. That's probably a violation of nude beach protocol, but hey... I'm Canadian, eh ?
The fish we had for supper tonight had been swimming in the Pacific Ocean less than seven hours before we ate it. Now that's fresh ! ! ! I prepared filete de dorado frito con gusto Cajun de Daniel. This was the third time I prepared fish this way, my own recipe creation, and I have perfected it !
Late in the evening we went for a moonlight walk on the beach. It was ... romantic. I can't remember how many years it's been since we walked on a beach at night.
DSK
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