We were sitting in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle wondering how to solve our motor problem when the idea hit me… ignore the motor and rent a car. Let’s see the world while we’re still young. So that is exactly what we did. We called the local Hertz people (here they are called Amigo) and rented a small, underpowered, high mileage junker for a trip into the mountains of Mexico. Gualadajara (second largest city in Mexico, population four million) was our destination. We took along a cooler of beer (in case every second building along the way wasn’t a tacqueria), filled the tank with some inexpensive Mexican gas, grabbed the map and headed east.
The first very pleasant surprise was that as we headed uphill the temperature seemed to drop accordingly. Guadalajara is at about 5000 feet and the humidity that had been killing us for the past two weeks seemed to disappear as we climbed. Although daytime temps were still in the 80’s the relief was dramatic. Depending on whom you ask Gualadajara is either 3 hours or 6 hours from Vallarta. For us it was at least six. We had been told to skip the free road and pay the tolls, but our logic was that we wanted to see more of Mexico. We took the free road. We saw all of Mexico. The road was good, two lanes, well paved, and it went up, down, around, over, back around, and through every small hill and mountain from Vallarta to Gualadajara. We finally figured out that the toll road was the 3 hour trip, a lot less miles, a lot straighter.
Our first destination was the town of Tequila. In addition to being the reputed site of the first license to make the stuff in Mexico Tequila also has an abundance of TEQUILA TOURS!!! We checked into a beautiful, little hotel right on the main square and enjoyed an evening on the town. Tequila is a lot like the towns in Napa and Sonoma. Essentially this is a farm community where the primary crop is the Blue Agave plant. After a while the process of making the Tequila, tasting tequilas, comparing tequila became as big a part of the community as growing the agave. There were many, many tequila tasting bars and small tequila shops. We took the tour at Jose Cuervo, the oldest and largest distiller. Exactly like a wine tour from the crush to the fermentation, bottling, and aging through to the tasting room where (en espanol) we were shown how to sniff, swirl, look for the legs, taste, etc. One difference, of course, after the 3rd tequila you had a much better buzz than your average pinot noir.
One thing that struck us on the wine tour was the weight that rules carry in Mexico. The very first announcement on the tour was that ABSOLUTELY no cameras, cell phone videos, etc. would be allowed inside the factory. They announced this twice. Spanish and English. At the first stop, the unloading of agave, EVERYONE on the tour started taking pictures, and they continued to do so throughout the tour. Go figure.
Tequila was also the first indication that our Spanish language skills were not progressing as well as we thought. We now found ourselves in places where no one spoke any English at all. In Vallarta the waiters, bus drivers, merchants and hotel clerks all spoke some English, but now we were on our own and our Spanglish was not going to cut it. Yes, we could still get a beer, but only if we could see the beer sign from where we were standing. God forbid we should need directions. Some word games: In Spanish the two words ”jeugo” (game) and “jugo” (juice) sound pretty much the same. Of course I hardly ever mix up game and juice at home so I might have been a little careless in my pronunciation, BUT… we are sitting at breakfast. WeI have just asked for coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon (all in impeccable espanol), and apparently some “orange games”. You think the waiter could help me out? No. He looks like I just ordered a slice of green, moon cheese, stares at me, looks confused, calls another waiter for help (not an English speaking waiter by the way), and still they can’t figure out the remote possibility that I am looking for orange juice with my breakfast. I gotta keep practicin’. “Topos” are tortilla chips, “topes” are bumps in the road. I have also tried to order road bumps with salsa with little success. I do tell myself that part of the problem is that Spanish is such a fast language, but apparently it is just my brain that is on slow.
All over the country they have installed speed bumps (topes) in lieu of hiring cops to enforce speed limits. I have now driven over thousands and thousands of speed bumps. They are everywhere. If you are going 30 miles per hour you will come to a 20 mph speed bump. If you are driving 60 you will come to a 40 mph bump. No matter what your speed, no matter where you are, count on the bump just ahead. Even in our small car they had the ability to launch the car several inches off the ground. The bump was what you got when the car bottomed out on the non-existent shock absorbers. The second most prolific business in Mexico (after taquerias) is the ubiquitous “Llantera”, the tire repair shop. There are several in every small village and most are located immediately adjacent to the speed bump. Warnings? Of course they warn you about the speed bump. There are actually two ways. On the slower roads there are usually two white rocks stacked next to the speed bump. Assuming you see these in time (and assuming the local llantera hasn’t removed them completely) you should be able to slow down in time for the bump. At higher speed they put up a sign (right at the bump) that says “Reductor de velocidade”. Let’s just say that the first few times I saw that sigh at 60mph I was still translating that into English when the car left the ground. I’m a lot quicker now.
We drove on to Guadalajara the next day (on the toll road) and stayed in a smaller suburb of Tlaquepaque. This town had two squares and a beautiful “avenue of artisans”. It was lots of high end crafts, silver, restored antiques, art, paintings and sculptures. All of these along a street that was restored homes with courtyards and high walls. As you walked into each shop or restaurant you found yourself in a private park with flowers, trees, fountains and, of course, art for sale. A very nice experience. Next to Tlaquepaque was the town of Tonala. We were lucky enough to visit Tonala on the day of their very famous market. Largest open air market you can possibly imagine. Everything for sale and, I think, thousands of vendors. Tlaquepaque was also where we saw the police out in force, armed with automatic rifles and ready to fight off the revolution. The reason? Soccer game between Guadalajara and Monterey. Bars were packed with people, overflow ran out the doors and into the streets, and most of the fans were men drinking beer. Same as the NFL except we don’t usually see the police in riot gear with machine guns even for the Giants/Patriots.
Guadalajara is a major city and we were content to ride the tourist bus around town and have the historic sites explained to us. One exception was the Governor’s Chambers where we were escorted through the premises by a native Mesquite Indian... who spoke seven languages fluently (including Japenese). The building was the meeting hall for the state parliament for many years, and Guadalajara was the site of much of the political turmoil in the 19th and 20th centuries. Two incredible murals by the Mexican painter Orozco reflected the politics of Mexico and the progress of independence in this country. Our guide had a wealth of knowledge and an unbelievable enthusiasm for the history of his country and his people.
Enough of Mexico for now, but I did want to finish with the crocodiles. (Picture attached). We stopped in La Manzanilla when we returned to the Pacific coast of Mexico. At the end of a small street there was a river that was cut off from the sea by a sand bar/beach across the mouth. La Zona de Crocodilos. I walked up to the fence at the end of the street, and scared the piss out of myself when I looked into the lagoon and saw 10 to 15 of the largest crocodiles I had ever imagined. Big suckers. 15 feet long, huge bellies and tails, and heads with at least 3 feet of teeth and scales and eyes. Oh, yeah. The eyes were looking at me! If I had been asked to imagine the biggest crocodile in the world I never would have imagined one that big, and there were a dozen of them. Absolutely the scariest things I have ever seen. I will never swim in fresh water in Mexico, ever!
Long e-mail for not much travel at this end, but we wanted people to know what we were up to and that we miss all of you.
