The Effects of Secondhand Smoke
The night before I left San Felipe for points south, my host Doug stopped by and invited me to a "band jam" with his friend Jim (another American) somewhere up in the hills a town or two over. I assumed we were going to a small cantina to listen to some music, have a few beers, the usual.
 |
Doug and I "playing" the maracas.
Mine has nothing in it. Even better. |
This little road trip took us above most everything, above towns, roads, even the topes. Eventually, we arrived at a hilltop retreat - I'll call it - of another American. Actually, I think all 10-12 people there were from the U.S., most even older than I, some in their 60's! Which explains a lot of music from Dylan, the Band, and the like. It also explains the cigarettes that were going around that were about the size of your ring finger. Hence the substantial amount of secondhand smoke. I mean you couldn't get away from it, even though I tried. Believe you me.
 |
this taco dive was better than 3
bags of doritos |
Well, things have a way of just happening. The music was so-so, but started sounding better. Those of us with no talent whatsoever were at first sitting there politely, but at some point we started playing the maracas, the washboard, the symbols or the two washtubs that were wired for plucking. It all came together like magic! The regulars swore they never sounded better. The rest of us agreed. There's talk of buying some new equipment.
Needless to say, this was about the funniest thing I've ever been involved with and the meal afterwards of midnight tacos pastori was the best fricking meal of my life. All due - let's be honest here - to secondhand smoke. It's suprisingly effective. So let that be a lesson to ya.
Mambo and Me
 |
| handmade rug |
I really wanted to get some kind of craft from one of the surrounding indigenous communities and, so after going thru the guidebooks, I settled on Teotitlan del Valle, noted for wool weaving. I figure a rug is the only thing that has a chance of surviving this trip. The rug had to have green in it and this one uses some simple Zapotec and Mitla symbols mostly referring to the cycle of life. Buying at the source cost me only 20-25% of what it would be in the States. Course, I probably blew the other 80% getting down here, you think?
I had reserved a room at the Casa Sagrada, a 12-room guesthouse above the town with a great view and a devoted following. I don't want to drop names so I'll just use initials. A certain R.(ick) B.(ayless) has been known to stop by on occasion, so staying here was another unplanned (i.e. not in the "budget") treat. This compound, however, will be changing hands soon and the main business will be moving over a town or two to a new spot where they keep the horses. Their current website will probably have a link to the new at some point.
 |
| Mambo and me |
Bobby (he's the man of the place; Mary Jane is the hostess, btw) and I head over to the new digs to saddle up the next morning. A beautiful day in the valley. You know, when a man has a hankering to ride, he rides. And that's just what we did. It was a couple of hours of wandering over here and over yon. A few times I'd say Mambo and me got up to maybe 6 mph! No brag, just fact. Going back thru the village, I got to ride over a tope on a horse, a singular experience in that this was a tope that was actually fun to go over. Mambo didn't break stride or even curse.
Later, I drove over to Tule under a different kind of horsepower where the world's biggest tree is located. If size matters then this dude rules.
One of the things Casa Sagrada offers is cooking lessons so they have a beautiful kitchen and a talented staff. Each night they fed us really well and then again at breakfast. Thanks for the extra 5 pounds, Mary Jane. I love it here.
Puerto Arista
A long drive down thru the mountains brings me to the coast. Suprised that there was only one military stop on this drive, but someone asked about the tent. They were happy with seeing the pictures. I feel like I'm finally in the tropics, it's in the 90's with high humidity. After about 7 hours total I arrive in Puerto Arista, a sleepy fishing village that has now gotten it's own gas station since I was first here 4-1/2 years ago. Actually, there are two new Pemex stations right next to each other. You'd have to ask the government why that is.
 |
| camped at Jose's |
Jose's Camping is my place to be and when I pull up Jose is drinking beers with one of the guests. Some things never change. I'm able to pick any old spot and I make sure to not be under any of the coconut trees (I can hear them drop off and on thru the night).
 |
| beach at Puerto Arista |
My next day is spent wandering down the beach and thru the town. Everything is pretty quiet around here. I figure I could comfortably live at Jose's ( he currently charges 100p/nite to camp ~$8), buy my food and a few beers for something less than $25/day. Not a forever-type situation you understand, but good to know, just in case. It only stopped raining here about a week ago, a common refrain on this trip so far. My luck on the weather has been holding up. Sticky to sleep in, though. Jose also cooks a delicious fish wrapped in a banana leaf (plucked from the yard) that will surprise you. He calls it robalo, it's called snook up north. Whatever the name, very tasty.
San Cristobal de las Casas
It's another scenic climb back into the mountains where it then levels off to Tuxla Gutierrez, the large capital of Chiapas and not very appealing on its own. A slow slog around Tuxla puts you on the road to San Cristobal, almost continuously uphill, seriously uphill. Any vehicle with any power plays a game of passing the many crawling trucks wherever possible, straightaway or curve, it doesn't matter. It's almost a macho thing, and so I had to be right there with them. You just say "fuck it' and go for it. I've driven almost 15k miles in Mexico by now and even though this happens everywhere, the frequency on this road was noteable.
 |
parked in front of Le Gite
(the yellow sign) |
Once in S.C. it took me an hour to find the campground on the edge of town in a nice wooded setting. Unfortunately, the place is falling apart and after one night I walked into town to find a cheap room with some sort of parking, finally settling on Le Gite del Sol. It's a small place run by Dennis, from Quebec, and his wife. A clean but spartan room with bath costs 200p. They even include a simple breakfast. I had to park on the street in front and it's the first time I've used the steering wheel lock, but I'm two blocks from all the action. I've been to both campgrounds in S.C. now. They both suck. Rent a room for 200-400p w/parking and you'll be a lot happier.
|
local women near the cathedral |
 |
| pedestrian street in San Cristobal |
San Cristobal is still one of my favorites and it's gotten even better, though the nights are borderline cold right now. They've expanded on the pedestrian street system so now there are even more great cafes, etc. to choose from. A person could hang out here pretty cheap, too. I'm probably repeating myself, but if you're only thinking about the beach for Mexico then you're missing some of the best parts. Pick any of the colonial cities. They're all great. Well, my next post should be from somewhere in Guatemala. See ya.
No comments:
Post a Comment