On local advice, we stopped for the next night in Tlacotalpan, the UNESCO world heritage city. It was a beautiful little town, with friendly locals, and large striking town squares and churches. The colorful colonial style houses were a treat for the eyes. From one colonial city to the next, San Francisco de Campeche is a fortified city built in 1540 by Spanish conquistadores. The walls surrounding the city were built to protect the occupying Spanish from pirates and buccaneers, while the native residents lived outside the city walls in the surrounding area. At first glance, the central city area appears to be immaculately preserved. Footpaths are smooth and straight, and walls and doors throughout the city shine with fresh paint. The colonial layout of the city means that houses sit directly on the street, and gardens are inside courtyards and behind facades. Once you climb onto the recently restored outer city walls however, you realise that much of the city is an illusion. Behind immaculately well kept building facades are full city blocks of rubble, and crumbling houses. Buildings that appeared like neat houses from the outside, were actually empty wrecks. It was completely unexpected, and for me just added to the mystery of this colorful city. |
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Seeing our first set of Mayan ruins completely made up for two stressful days of driving. El Tajin is a little off the beaten path, and as such it was pretty much just us and the local pack of dogs for company. El Tajin stretches for roughly 500 hectares and at its peak in 1000AD had a population of about 30,000. It’s believed the site was abandoned in around 1200AD as the surrounding area couldn’t support such a huge population. The site has a number of ruined palaces, ball courts and structures, but the most impressive is the centrally located pyramid of the niches.
From Mayan ruins, to the beach, the following night we landed at Coco Loco on the Costa Esmeralda. It was wonderful to wake up to the sound of waves on the sand, and a morning swim. The owner of Coco Loco was a very friendly German fellow, who took the time to welcome us, and tell us about the highlights of the local area. Their camping area was simple, with hammocks and shade right on the beach.
Unfortunately, the following day we were both very hung over, and the road to the coast was km after km of slow, windy, bumpy roads. I blame the tequila. For most of the day, we were forced to swerve wildly to avoid potholes in the road, and spent most of the day driving at around 20km/h. That evening, we narrowly avoided an accident, when a driver decided to ignore our break lights and indicator, and attempted to overtake us, while we were turning into a driveway on the other side of the road. We stayed in an RV park/Auto hotel with no hot water and a large toad in the bathroom. People say that travelling isn’t all fun and games, and this was one of those days.
The following day wasn’t much better. It had rained all night and we nearly got stuck in the field outside our dodgy hotel. Then we spent a long day of driving getting lost. But we did learn 2 very important lessons for driving in Mexico: 1: NEVER follow a detour sign. It’s a trick. 2: Just because a sign on a freeway or road lists the road destination and road number, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to that place, on the listed road number. It might be going somewhere else, via a different road. Edward James, was an eccentric Englishman born into money. He was a poet, artist and patron of the arts. His particular passion was surrealism, and in 1947 he brought property in Mexico and began work on Las Pozas in Xilitla, San Luis Potosi. He spent millions and turned 20 acres of land into a surrealist wonderland. Today, his masterpiece sits in the midst of thick humid jungle, staircases and spooky surrealist sculptures look almost as if they have sprung from the ground with the trees and vines. Stone paths lead you on an adventure through the jungle, some lead you to nowhere, and others reveal buildings or waterfalls. This place is a little off the beaten path, but it is definitely worth a visit.
Can a VW fly? The answer is yes. When you hit an unmarked tope (speed bump) at 45km/h. Needless to say, our introduction to Saltillo was a little tense (especially as we had just replaced the front end, and were driving with a beer can packing out our steering). Saltillo is an hour from Monterrey, and is said to have the best colonial architecture close to the US border. There was a beautiful big cathedral, and a place that did the best gorditas I have eaten to date, but otherwise, seemed like a big and busy city. Maybe we ended up in the wrong part of town, and missed all the excitement?
From Saltillo back to Monterrey, and it was time to say goodbyes to Andrew and Evan. I was very sad to see them go, it had been nice to have a couple of extra eyes during a week fraught with car problems.Andrew is a very calm travel companion, and it was definitely a week we needed someone even keeled! Real de Catorce is an old silver mining town hidden in the hills south of Monterrey. Its only access road is a 24km cobbled street, with a one way tunnel into town. And it was bumpy. Very bumpy. We advanced along slowly and had to stop twice to fix bits that had fallen off the car. We lost part of our heating system, and have since discovered that a number of screws have rattled themselves loose from inside the van. The town however was worth the drive. It had beautiful old streets and buildings made of rock. Most of the town however lay in ruins, giving it a ghostly feel. Set in a valley, sound bounced off the walls, and flooding the space with the noise of people going about their business. Children crying, lively conversations and the sound of donkeys braying made up the soundtrack here.
Monterrey is Mexico’s third largest city. It is busy, the traffic is crazy, and we didn’t have a map. The atlas we brought for Mexico, is a complete dud. It doesn’t cover towns or cities, rarely lists road names and numbers, and often shows roads which don’t exist, or missed roads that do. Finding our hotel was difficult, but not impossible, and gave us a good taste of driving in Mexican cities.
The following day we left the city, and found a hotel run by a very friendly Mexican family in Santiago, in the mountains south of Monterrey. They didn't speak a word of English, and didn’t seem to understand a word of our Spanish, so she called a friend who spoke English every time we needed to ask her something. The town was very friendly. Everyone waved and greeted you as you passed. It also tuned out to be the local hoon hang out. All the men in town seemed to own a hotted up VW Bug, or buggie and drove up and down the main street (there was only one street in the town, so I guess you’d call it ‘Main Street’) all night long, at great speed. It made for quite an interesting place to be based. Our hotel had a pool, lots of green grass and comfortable beds. We felt quite at home. Which was lucky, because the following day, after bumping up and down the mountains in the national park, our front beam snapped. The car was still drive-able (just) but wasn’t going very far at all. The big question, was how to explain in Spanish that the entire front section of your car has broken, and you need a new one. Luckily, 500m from where we broke down, we happened upon Oscar, an American Mexican mechanic who spoke perfect English. When we discovered the local parts shops didn’t have the part, he took us to his friend Tupo, who was the best welder in town, and could either find us the part, or weld us up a new one. He was apparently the man responsible for making most of the buggies and hotted up bugs that honed up and down our street. We dropped our car off in an unknown street, and handed over our keys and $500 to an unknown man. Might not sound that sensible, but we really didn’t have any other options. Plus, they seemed like really good guys. Three nerve wracking days later, we had our car back. We were set to leave Santiago when reverse gear stopped engaging. It’s a problem that has haunted us since Canada. At first, we thought it was a frayed clutch cable. We replaced it, and haven’t had problems with it again. Turns out, that after 5 more hours under the car, Angus and Andrew worked out that the stop plate had worn, and didn’t allow the gear stick to move enough to select reverse gear. Then, there were problems with our new front end. The steering was wobbly and sloppy. That turned out to be the control arm pin. A couple more bush mechanic hours later, the steering was fixed (for now) with a beer can, and the plate was cut with an angle grinder. The following day, we were up early and headed for the border. We needed to drive across the International bridge, then find the vehicle permit office, get our vehicle permit and tourist cards, and that should be that.
But it never is? Is it! First, was the task of finding the car permit office. We crossed the bridge, paid our toll, passed through customs and followed the signs to the vehicle permit office. The road was thin, with ramshackle houses sitting tightly on the road on both sides. Dogs and chickens were running up and down the street. We were definitely in Mexico, but as of yet we hadn’t shown our passports to anyone. One wrong turn led us back onto a toll bridge going to the USA. Exactly where we didn’t want to be, especially as the toll was $20. We asked the guy in the booth, who directed us to reverse down the 5 lane road for 300 meters, to his friend who moved one of the bollards and allowed us to pass through the side road to get to the vehicle permit office. I guess that’s just how things are done here in Mexico. Unfortunately, our fun hadn’t ended just because we had found the correct building. The vehicle permit requires a copy of the car title, drivers passport and a cash deposit of $200 that ensures you take your car with you when you go. The BC title (or proof of ownership and registration) is a crappy piece of paper, printed in Times New Roman in black and white, on the bottom of your insurance paperwork. It is issued by the Insurance Corporation of British Colombia, a government body. First, the man at the permit office said our paperwork was out of date. Our insurance in Canada ran out in September, and as it’s not valid from Mexico onwards, we had not bothered to renew it. We had brought Mexican insurance instead. Then, because the piece of paper said ICBC (Insurance Corporation of British Colombia) he said it was an insurance document, and not a title. He pulled out a huge bundle of titles from all over the Mexico, the USA and other places in Canada. They were all nicely printed certificates, with fancy colored borders. BC however, had obviously cheaped out. It meant two hours of arguing, haggling, and finally when I found an updates version, which said our insurance is valid until September, he was satisfied. What happens at the next border will be interesting… I have a feeling we haven't seen the back of this problem. From the border, we drove South to Monterrey. We had heard that the region around the border was very dangerous, and had been cautioned not to stop until we were at least 100km away. Ready to run the gauntlet, and imagining cartel car jackers and hijackers at every turn, we were off. What we saw from the car windows however, didn’t look at all dangerous. There were baseball teams playing Sunday ball by the road, families enjoying a picnic, people just doing what people do on a Sunday. Seems the danger of the border region had been exaggerated. |
AuthorsThis is the story of Linden, Angus and their (not-so) trusty steed Pancho as they set off on an overlanding adventure through Mexico, Central America and beyond. Archives
April 2015
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