Closing out Mexico

A short distance outside the city of Oaxaca brought me to Santa Maria del Tule, site of reputably the worlds largest (by volume) tree. 

El Árbol del Tule

I assume everyone knows what this means

This Montezuma Cypress has a trunk diameter of over 30ft and weighs in at about 636 tons and is around 2000 years old. In terms of height it is not that impressive and there are a lot of other claims to the world’s biggest tree. Whatever the facts there is no doubt it is a monster.

A few miles down the road and a little way into the hills the village of Teotitlán del Valle is found, home to the Zapotec weavers. The weavers of these small family owned businesses have been producing some of the most stunning, world renowned rugs and tapestries for centuries. The wool is all locally produced, woven and dyed.

Zapotec rugs and weavings

Spotless streets

Iglesia Preciosa Sangre de Cristo

Here I would like to acknowledge the kindness I was offered as a stranger. When I was still in San Pancho I got talking to Amando Martnez who was selling rugs in the square. When I told him I was going to visit his village he handed over the keys to his house and said I was welcome to use it. This is where I spent the night. 

The Zapotecs have their own distinctive language and this spotless village has all the street signs in this language as well Spanish and English

Well guarded green weeds

Early one morning I was sitting on a wall outside the market eating a few goodies I had purchased for breakfast and just enjoying myself doing some people watching. A truck pulled up and was immediately descended upon by many local woman who grabbed great bunches of some green weed-looking plant. ( I later found out it was something akin to alfalfa that they fed to their livestock). One of these ladies then walked over to me and asked if I wouldn’t mind looking after her bunch of weeds while she headed into the market to do some shopping. Not really knowing how to guard a bunch of weeds I agreed to perform this task only to realize once she had disappeared that I had no idea if I was going to be there all morning. A few minutes later these two rogues sat down next to me.

Rogues Gallery

We got to shooting the breeze, if using the limited Spanish vocabulary I have mastered can be called ”shooting the breeze”. Just then a rather good looking local lady sauntered past and they took it upon themselves, interspersed with gales of laughter, to teach me the correct pronunciation of the various parts of the female anatomy. I suspect these should not be used in polite conversation.

I did buy one small souvenir rug in the village that I am using to help pad by seat as it seems that I do not have enough natural padding to give comfort to those long hours in the saddle. This design is known as “ the tree of life” and so I like to think I am perched on one of the branches as my travels unfold.

With a stop at the ruins in Mitla, site of a Zapotec empire that took over power after the decline of Monte Albán in the 14th century with a later Jesuit church built on top of those ruins

Mitla

I took to the road that wound its way back through the hot, dry dusty mountains to the coast. I had randomly picked a beach on a map where I had hoped to spend the night but when I got nearer I asked at a gasolinera about the beach. From what I could gather there are no real beaches, just mud flats in the area and although there might be a restaurant serving seafood the chances of any place to stay were remote. As it was getting late in the afternoon I was eager to find somewhere to rest my weary bones for the night so decided to go to the next town, Juchitán which turned out to be great. Crazy traffic with the ubiquitous, three wheeled scooter taxis everywhere and a wild central plaza where all sorts of food was for sale. I am sure I was the only gringo in town - definitely not on the tourist route.

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Juchitán de Zaragoza

The next day I had a long ride to the Guatemala border at Ciudad Hidalgo arriving there at about 3.30 in the afternoon. I was a little apprehensive as I had heard that the process to get into Guatemala could be more than a little confusing and that I might need to show an original vehicle title that I do not have with me. I thought it best to get the lay of the land that afternoon with the intent of crossing early the next morning. The sleepy little border was nearly deserted so what the hell I drove on in. A local guy offered help with the process on the Guatemalan side and for the fews Quetzales ( 7 GTQ = 1US $) Juan was worth every centavo I paid him. About half an hour later with multiple trips across the street into the town itself for various copies needed at different stages of the process I was in to Guatemala.

Into the Unknown

Adios San Pancho

Leaving San Pancho after three weeks was a little like leaving home but it is now into the unknown as this is as far south that I have travelled in the past. Monday morning bright and early I set off down the coast along a scenic but very twisty road with incredible views of the ocean, interspersed with sections where the road is forced inland. This is the dry season and dry it certainly is with large areas that have either just been burned or where fires were actively burning. This is a normal cycle in this part of the world before the rains transform the landscape into a green oasis.

La Gasolinera

Roadside hotel

Two and a half days with over twenty hours sitting on the saddle brought me to the town of Acapulco, home to the legendary cliff divers. 

This was a spectacle I first heard about when I was a kid and always wanted to see this spectacle. I had been told that the Hotel Mirador that overlooked the cliffs could be reserved for just 1000 pesos ( about $55 ) whereas the walk in price was nearly three times that - what a deal and look at my room

The cliff divers of Acapulco ( or actually the town of La Quebrada ) perform a few times during the day and twice at night with spotlights. This was truly an amazing sight with the divers firstly scaling the cliffs, spending quite some time praying at the shrines at the top before launching themselves 135 ft ( 35m) into the ocean below. Large ocean swells push into the narrow channel below and so timing of the dive is critical as the depth of the water can vary more than 10 ft. Get this wrong and the result is not pretty, however I am told that in the last 75 years not a single diver has died -I guess the patron saint they pray to is damn good at his job.

Look carefully there is a guy diving off backwards

From Acapulco I had another full day of riding through numerous little towns, all hot and dusty with the average number of topes ( see early post) or speed bumps being 6. I Thought of trying to count how many of these I encountered in a day but gave up at 200 after first hour. I am extremely pleased I had the suspension rebuilt on my KTM just before I left home as it certainly has been put to the test.

Photo 

This night was spent at Kassandra’s in the  Laguna Chacahua National Park which is protected area of mangrove swamps. I took a trip on a launch with Capitan Miguel ( who looked like Michael Jackson ) but the bird and wildlife viewing was not anything very awe inspiring. At one point we got the boat stuck in a tunnel through the mangroves and Capitan Michael had to climb out and pull us through the tight spot between the dense undergrowth. At this point I asked him about the crocodiles to which he answered, somewhat nervously - “ No hay” ( none here)

A little rustic

From Chacahua I took an beautiful twisty, turning narrow road into the mountains with the ultimate destination being Oaxaca. This was a distance of only just over 200 km ( 125 miles ) but is took me the best part of the day. The scenery was stunning weaving high into the pine covered mountains before plunging back down into a valley where coco nut palms thrived only to be repeated again after passing through a agricultural small village.

 This went on for hours which was not only physically tiring and mentally exhausting as there were a lot of tour busses returning from a pilgrimage to the town of Juquila. Yup, tour busses on these little roads took up nearly both lanes and if encountered on a hairpin curve they did take up the entire roadway. I had planned on stopping in Jaquila to see the mission there but the town was crazy as this is still considered part of the Easter period where religious fervor reaches a crescendo. ( for you South Africans this would be like trying to visit ZCC over Easter )

This is where the trip got a little strange and admittedly a little frightening. I came into a small village and like always the vehicles ahead of me would need to slow down for the topes, giving me the perfect place to pass if there were no cars coming in the other direction.In this particular village I performed the usual maneuver but realized that for some reason the truck at the front of the line was completely stopped so luckily I was going very slowly when a police roadblock suddenly appeared in front of me. I immediately had guns brandished in my face and extremely agitated Federales shouting at me. It was only then I saw the reason for the tense situation. Just off the side of the road, face up was a man lying in an ever increasing pool of blood. It did not look like he had been hit by a car as there was not a vehicle close by so I can only surmise that he had been shot. I had no way of finding out what was going on and thought it unwise to try and take a photo.

I was unable to understand if the police were shouting at me to pull over and stop for being in the wrong lane or they were shouting for me to keep moving but to get on the right side of the road. I inched my way forward but kept moving hoping I was doing the right thing - seemed to work and I slowly picked up speed and got the F*** OUT of there!!

The remainder of the ride was uneventful but I was a little shaken.

Coming into the town of Oaxaca and its very busy streets brought my mind back to the task at hand of finding a hotel where I could spend the night and make sure my motorbike was safe. Like magic the Hotel Tipico popped up near the center of the old town and in no time at all I was parked, checked in ( $18/night) and back out walking the town

What a fantastic city with over 30 churches and a very rich colonial past with some amazing architecture, beautiful plazas and a spotless downtown central district. There were street performers, food sellers, sidewalk cafes, people strolling in the evening and generally a wonderful, fun loving vibe to the place

A good nights sleep and and early morning brought me back on the streets to find a breakfast of a bread roll with chicken relleno, this followed by some very good coffee had me ready for a day exploring. I took a cab out to the the pre-hispanic ruins of the city of Monte Alban, built by the Zapotecs starting in about 500BC. This was an important religious and administrative site for over 1300 years. I hired a guide and the two hours that she took to show me around this enormous site was the best $25 I have spent on the trip so far. I started by buying a guide book but soon realized that trying to understand what went on here through those 13 centuries was going to take a little more than the normal Luck tour.

Monte Alban

I expect to spend a few more days in this area before setting my sights on the Guatemalan border

Atotolin - Pelican

Atotolin - Pelican

This has got to be one of my favorite birds. It hardly looks flightworthy and yet it is so graceful as it skims across the waves after having lumbered into the air just ahead of a breaking wave. Formations of these wonderful creatures can be seen gliding parallel and just in front of forming waves taking advantage of the air that is being pushed forward and up by the swell. 

Like much of my insight and knowledge I learned a little more about this amazing birds from a beer bottle.

It seems rather incongruous but this little town of San Pancho is home to a world class polo facility that this week has been hosting an international tournament. They say it is the sport of kings and I am sure that really refers to having to have the resources of a king to be part of this elite. I got a chance to watch 3 matches and soon got caught up in the excitement of watching these huge animals thundering down the field in pursuit of a tiny white ball.

Polo at La Patrona

More animal stories

My favorite dog of San Pancho given the name of “Bruiser” by me here shows his displeasure at having to share town with flocks of people and vendors who have descended on this beach community this week for Semana Santo or Easter Week. 

Bruiser

And then there is Amigo the pet chicken who sits on the counter in one of the little stores on the main street

Amigo

This is the Mexican version of spring break where vast quantities of beer are consumed on the beaches protected from the sun by clouds of smoke with a slightly pungent aroma. Most folk arrive by bus, truck or taxi with newly purchased tents that are pitched on the beach where the festivities are held. I watched one young man who was sleeping soundly in the afternoon sun with the waves lapping at his feet. I was quite looking forward to his reaction when the water finally reached his inebriated body but I was robbed of this spectacle when two dogs that were madly chasing each other across the sand ran into him at full speed.

Adios San Pancho, hasta la vista!

Next stop is Oaxaca, home of the Zapotecs, over a 1000km south east of here and inland into the mountains.

San Pancho and reflections of month uno on the road

 Firstly a few photos of San Pancho and the surrounding area 

Always need a good sunset in any news

A Taj like building in San Pancho

My walk to school in the morning

Reflecting on the first month of this trip what really stands out is the, helpful, friendly, wonderful people I have met. I thought this might be a good time to talk a little about some of those folk.

Loreta Baja - I literally limped into town after having had a wipe out on a road that afternoon. Apart from feeling beat up I had also lost a rear axle nut which usually leads to disastrous consequences as rear axles when they detach from the bike tend to cause untold havoc.

One local man ( who went by the name of Santa) took me all over town on the back of his ATV trying to track down, to no avail, anything close to the 26mm axle nut. I then met up with a group motorbike riders from Seattle, all riding KTMs who were down there for their annual Baja desert ride. The “ Born to Ride” guys - Cory, Todd, Thomas, Dave, Jason, JD, Julia and Bill were fantastic and tried everything to come up with a way to get my bike back on the road. It was Cory, who after a strong margarita suddenly had a flash of brilliance - “let’s cut the one rear axle nut that you have in half”( this was possible as they are made from aluminum) With just a hack-saw blade and the use of a vise in the hotel’s workshop this was done in no time at all. Not only this but when I went out to supper with the group that evening they insisted on paying for my dinner and beers

Bahia de Los Angeles Baja - I was in a camping spot on the beach, under a palapa when an older gentleman who had been cleaning his fish nearby stopped by and asked if I would like a camp chair as I looked awfully uncomfortable sitting on the ground. He returned 10 minutes later on his ATV with a chair and a cold beer!! Just told me where his house was so I could return it in the morning as he would not be there. - hope I put it on the right porch.

On the ferry from La Paz to Topolobampo I got talking to a guy who was with a group of off-road enthusiast who had spent a week racing their vehicles around Baja. Arnulfo Navarro was very concerned for my welfare while in Mexico and insisted I take the extra SIM card he had so I had cell phone coverage. He has been checking in with me from time to time to make sure all is well.

Guadalajara: After leaving my bike off at the KTM dealer for repairs I was trying to get to a rental car company which I had been told was “just a few blocks from here” ( it was over 3 miles) I decided to catch a local bus that seemed to be headed in the general direction. Like foreigners in every country in the world I was fumbling for the right change when the man who had just got on in front of me paid my fare.

San Pancho. In December when I was down here I met a man who asked about my “ Roof of Africa” hat. For those not in the know the “Roof” is a premier international off-road motorcycle race held in the mountains of Lesotho, Southern Africa every year. And btw organized by my brother Peter. Marcus van Geffen is a very enthusiastic KTM rider and local home builder who has been a big help to me with getting repairs done on my bike, lending me tools and being a wealth of local information.

Anyway that is just a few of my everyday heroes