La Cucaracha E-Book

Monika von Borthwick

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 264

Beschreibung

La cucaracha (the cockroach) is a Mexican revolutionary song, the chorus of which probably alludes to General Victoriano Huerta, who was called la cucaracha because of his consumption of alcohol and drugs and who allegedly could not get going without marihuana. The historical background of this popular song, which is now known throughout the world, prompted the author to give this title to her travelogue about Central Mexico and the Yucatán. All the major colonial cities of the Central Highlands did indeed play a decisive role during the Mexican revolutionary wars of the 19th century.

Leseprobe

La Cucaracha?

La cucaracha (the cockroach) is a Mexican revolutionary song, the chorus of which probably alludes to General Victoriano Huerta, who was called la cucaracha because of his consumption of alcohol and drugs and who allegedly could not get going without marihuana. The historical background of this popular song, which is now known throughout the world, prompted the author to give this title to her travelogue about Central Mexico and the Yucatán. All the major colonial cities of the Central Highlands did indeed play a decisive role during the Mexican revolutionary wars of the 19th century.

Monika von Borthwick belongs to the older generation and lives in culturally rich Upper Bavaria. In addition to her professional activities, she was a tour guide for bus travelers in Europe. Even then she wrote down her experiences with the country and its people in detail.

After the death of her husband, she decided to travel alone and explored numerous areas in Europe and North America on her own with her newly acquired motorhome and her two dogs. On these trips she discovered her love for storytelling and sent detailed reports home by email.

Mexico again?

At the beginning of this trip, I was close to my sixty-fifth birthday. Should I risk it again? I had already seen and experienced a lot of Mexico in the past years. On these long trips I got to know the politically troubled country and learned to appreciate its people. I visited the Baja California peninsula, drove along the east coast of the state to the isthmus and explored the western coastal regions on my own. With a German travel group, I visited the Yucatán Peninsula in a motorhome. However, some of the central highlands and interesting details on Yucatán were still missing from my collection, as well as the south-eastern area up to Guatemala.

So once again travelling alone with two dogs in a motorhome across central Mexico and the Yucatán Peninsula? Wouldn’t that be too risky at my age? I received well-intentioned advice from all sides not to expose myself to the dangers of the country.

So, at my age, I should not put off plans. Since my two dogs were excellent bodyguards and reliable warning systems, I wanted to try it again. I knew from experience that this individual way of travelling opens the door to the friendliness of people, the diversity of traditions and the country’s great historical past. I can confirm to all hesitant traveler readers that I did not have to cope with one dangerous situation during my six months stay - apart from the miserable road conditions. Ten thousand kilometers! We survived!

Whoever tried tortillas, frijoles or has eaten tamales and leaves the country, is homesick for Mexico! (unknown)

Table of contents

Laredo – Saltillo – Matahuala – Real de Catorce

Matehuala – Zacatecas

Zacatecas – Aguascalientes – Guanajuato

Guanajuato – San Miguel de Allende – Teotihuacán – Catemaco

Catemaco – Villahermosa – Isla Aguada

Isla Aguada – Chetumal

Chetumal – Isla Mujeres

Cancun – Valladolid – Chichén Itzá – Rio Largato – Cenoten – Izamal

Uxmal – Campeche – Palenque

Yaxchilan – Bonampak

Epilog

Chapter 1

Laredo (Texas) - Saltillo - Matehuala - Real de Catorce - 565 km

Day 1

Border crossing - Saltillo

Well, it wasn’t easy to get back to the old travelogues after I had paused writing for over a month since Canada.

The day began early for us. At five o’clock the alarm clock went off. Since I had to drive fifty kilometers to the recommended border crossing and the border opened at eight o’clock, I was forced to set off at seven o’clock at the latest. Currently, I was still half asleep! Our normal setting off time had ’til now always been around eight o’clock.

I had already practiced getting up at the ass crack of dawn yesterday, because I used my two-day stay in Laredo for the WoMo inspection and Chevrolet gave me an appointment at the workshop at eight o’clock. I wanted to make sure once again that everything in the car was working properly. I brought up my problem with the altitude meters on the Blueridge Parkway and was advised to check all the cooling equipment and replace fluids. After all that, the WoMo was already puffing mightily at an altitude of a thousand meters. (On my journey through the interior of Mexico I had to overcome heights of up to two thousand four hundred meters.)

The border crossing “Columbia Bridge” was as sleepy as I was at that time of day. A nice Canadian couple and a Mexican official took me mentally by the hand and guided me through the simple but time-consuming crossing formalities.

First, I had to audition with the migration officer. He gave me my six-month visa and the stamp in my passport. Afterwards I went to photocopy the papers. Then I went to the bank with a stack of forms. This special bank was only there to handle and collect the import fees and provide the entry permit for the car. It came in the form of a legal sticker for the windscreen, which could be removed only with great difficulty as I already knew from earlier experiences!

Afterwards the car was superficially checked inside, a few cupboards and drawers were opened, always at a polite distance from my dogs. I thought I would be finished then. Wrong! Since last year all bigger cars had had to go through an additional X-ray inspection. Up to now I had only gone through this procedure with the Americans on re-entry. So, the dogs and I had to get out of the box again, stand behind a wall, safely hidden from the rays and wait another ten minutes for the result. Finally, the time had come! They let me go to Mexico after one hour.

It was a little confusing to find the desired Mex #85. After all the distance I covered from Laredo, I had to go back on the Mex side until I hit the desired highway.

Why the diversion? The border town Laredo itself has two border crossings. But according to several Mexican border crossers the left hand didn’t know what the right hand needed to do. Moreover, the parking facilities for handling the formalities for larger vehicles were in theory limited. Columbia Bridge was new, not so crowded, and more clearly arranged.

Viva México! Finally, I had Mex #85 (cuota: toll road) under my wheels. I immediately came into conflict with the “precise” Mexican information policy on road construction. The starting point at a construction site was not marked and suddenly I found myself as a ghost driver in the land of two-lane oncoming traffic. My adrenaline level shot up, but at the same moment I saw a dirt road on my right-hand side that led into the right lane. Apparently, I wasn’t the first one to have done that. The period of danger was no longer than half a minute, but the shock was enough to last the next few hours. A quadriga of my guardian angels had been at work.

At some point I suddenly found myself alone on a two-lane section, with normal traffic flowing to my left in both directions. On both sides of the road, I saw current traffic signs, so I didn’t think anything until a sign appeared: Road closed in a hundred meters! Shortly before, there was a bumpy road going downhill. Probably I had caught a brand-new section of the road, which was not yet open to traffic! Viva México again!

The next hundred and fifty kilometers were extremely boring. The road went straight through a lifeless desert area, overgrown with low bushes and dominated by huge yuccas or Joshua Trees, as they are called in Arizona. The truck traffic was heavy, and it was advisable not to come close to the side of the road due to the lack of a hard shoulder. A deep ditch came immediately a few centimeters after the road edge. After the last two experiences, I was able to slow down my eagerness and like a good girl drove 80-90 km/ h on the right side and was constantly overtaken by trucks, which took some getting used to. But it was ok with me as I had had enough excitement for one day!

Shortly before Monterrey the ascent into the mountains began. The cosmopolitan third largest city in Mexico was still at an altitude of “only” five hundred and thirty meters, but then we had to climb to sixteen hundred meters above sea level. Monterrey could be an economically significant area, but I found the metropolis ugly. In the end it was hard to distinguish whether the “clouds” were fog or smog. Given the many factories along the highway, I assumed the latter. Every industrial plant blew its dirt into the air, according to the motto: “The mountains can clean the atmosphere!”

The city was uninteresting to me not only because of that, but also because the crime rate was frighteningly high, and many books warned and advised extreme caution. The whole area was firmly in the hands of the drug mafia and, according to my records, thousands of murders had been committed here just up to 2011. Ninety-nine percent of this was rivalry between the gangs and the police, but in the wrong place at the wrong time. As a single traveler I didn’t need it!

The haze cleared up far behind Monterrey and you got to see some of the bare and impressive mountains. My car had to do some good work on the slopes. I was delighted that my $150 to fix the problem had been well spent, because the engine didn’t boil, no lights flickered, and the vehicle maintained a reasonable speed. Not even “trick 17” was used: opening all the heater valves to dissipate heat from the engine. Good car! Now I was not afraid of the impending vertical meters. Five years ago, my diesel would have already started to spit clouds of dirt in the thin air. Let’s stay clean now!

Saltillo! 725,000 inhabitants! According to the description in my book Hotel Imperial with its parking spaces was easy to find from #40. But I came into town from the opposite side, because the #40 had taken me far out. I drove in the big city traffic at rush hour and looked for a certain spot: the supermarket “Soriana”, from which I could orientate myself. But there were several “Sorianas” and Pemex gas stations with numbers and not the ones I was looking for. At some point I gave up, flagged a taxi, and hinted the chauffeur to drive ahead and guide me to the desired destination. It was only then that I realized how much I had been led astray!

A sweaty endeavor! Because now I not only had to watch out for my yellow taxi - there were thousands of them in the city - but traffic and Mexican driving were on my back as well. However, I reached my destination undamaged and without collision! I gladly paid the necessary fifty pesos (3€) for the tour through the city. I was really proud of myself!

Hotel Imperial gave me a decent place far away from the traffic and I could catch my breath for today. Because of my odyssey in Saltillo, it was already half past four. I had been behind the steering wheel since nine o’clock. Considering the early morning hour, it was no wonder that I was totally exhausted in bed at nine in the evening. My two dogs had been doing fine. Knuffi slept most of the time and Wurschtel only came to see me for a few strokes every now and then, until he happily rolled back onto the seat. That was his habit. Just to make it clear that he also demanded his rights. Then everything was ok again.

Day 2 - Saltillo

Today I had a few shopping trips to do. I also wanted to get a small impression of the bustling city. There were no public buses from the hotel so first I bought enough pesos from an ATM and then took a taxi to the center. My destination was the small museum for Sarapes. This is the name of the cloths and blankets in which Mexicans wrap themselves for all purposes of living and transport. For Saltillo this was and is a lucrative line of business. Apparently, I was too early because all gates were closed. I walked to the cathedral which is an excellent example of the decorative baroque architectural style.

My second attempt to go to the museum would have failed just as miserably if a school class had not been going there for the same purpose. The teacher knocked loudly, and a sleepy head appeared from behind the door. Apparently, the person in charge had not felt like working. Well, for just one tourist like me in town... But he had to go to work after all and open doors and gates for the visitors. The small exhibition was quickly seen.

Now I looked for the Alameda Park, which was also described as a sight in the book. Here it was pleasantly shady, and on my foray, I met a busy practicing music group. All the girls worked on their drums; the boys blew their trumpets at full power. Of course, they immediately noticed that I was taking pictures of them and in no time, I was surrounded by curious teenagers. Some of them spoke a little English so they could ask me all kinds of questions. Why? What? Where from? What’s your name? And that of the dogs? What car? And a thousand million more questions. Finally, the boss called them back to work and the exercises continued in a concentrated manner.

In a small branch of a telecommunication company, I bought a cheap mobile phone with the friendly help of an employee - who actually wasn’t working today - which he programmed for me immediately. It was a simple thing, but sufficient for my needs. Here I also found out where I could buy a navigation device. Because once again without a GPS I wouldn’t drive to a camping or parking site. Yesterday’s experiences were enough for me. I got back into a taxi and drove to an outlet center. I noticed that this shopping complex was near my hotel: around the corner. Good, so I didn’t have to go far to get home. For the equivalent of one hundred and eighty euros, I got a smart black box, that could also be used in the USA and Canada. There were no devices for Mexico alone. Oh, well! I needed this gadget because I would be lost in the big cities otherwise. Now I had a toy, and I would be playing with it in the evening until I understood how it worked.

As usual, my two four-legged friends greeted me with an Indian dance and as a reward they could whiz without a leash in the hotel’s cordoned-off car park. In the evening I did some urgent correspondence over the internet. With that the day was gone, and I still had not written my diary entry. In the evening I was often so tired from the many new impressions, the driving, the daily organization for the care of life and bodily integrity of all passengers and the planning and preparation for the next days that there wasn’t any energy left to do anything. I therefore had to keep planning breaks so I would have time for my “homework”. In addition, the pictures had to be examined and organized.

Day 3 – Matehuala

A short surprise in the morning, when I wanted to take a quick photo of the hotel from the main road before leaving. There were only pedestrians, families with small children, joggers and cyclists on the way. Every Sunday they closed this boulevard and kept it open for sports activities until 1pm. I couldn’t wait that long and a passer-by told me about a parallel path to get to the main road. Of course, my GPS protested after every new bend, but this time I was resistant to it. Better refuel quickly once again! You never knew in Mexico!

Straight ahead we went on to the south, through desolate wastelands with sparse plant growth. As usual, there was a lot of heavy traffic on the way that passed me noisily. On the right and left side of the road there were corrugated iron huts or small run-down stone barracks quite a distance away. In Europe we would not call these accommodation, flats or houses. The access road was dusty and bumpy all the way through. Many turned out to be small “restaurants”. They did not look very trustworthy to me. Probably the housewife cooked a daily menu and if a truck driver felt like it, he joined the family for a few pesos. Surprisingly, these “supply stations” were well attended.

Halfway there was a decent stop, and we had a short lunch break. Because of the experience at Saltillo, I wanted to be there early. You never knew if you would find your accommodation right away.

On this day, however, the search turned out to be problem-free, as the large Motel Palmas was located on the main road with direct access to it. The parking lot for the motorhomes was quietly located behind the individual suites and had direct access to a small circular trail through the wilderness. That suited us perfectly. The service was nice, and the price was within the range of 730.- pesos for 2 nights (about 42.- €). We were alone in the place and had a shower with warm water.

Day 4 – Real de Catorce

In my clever book I read that Matehuala is not especially important tourism-wise, but it is an ideal starting point for visiting the former silver mining town of Real de Catorce, fifty kilometers away. However, it was advised not to go there in a larger vehicle, i.e., a camper van. This interested me a great deal and aroused my curiosity.

This village is situated on the edge of the eastern Sierra Madre at an altitude of 2,755 meters. Since the Mexican Revolution, the village, which once had up to 30,000 inhabitants and could only be reached through a two-kilometer-long tunnel, seemed largely deserted and was long considered a ghost town. Only in the last few years had Real de Catorce been revived by tourists and due to the settlement of some artists who produce art articles for tourism. International tourism was mainly due to the film “The Mexican” with Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt. In 2001, the village was also included in the programme Pueblos Mágicos of the Mexican Tourism Authority.

Real de Catorce also plays a double role as a mystical place. Role one: On October 4th each year, the parish church of the Immaculate Conception is the destination of thousands of Catholic believers who, on the day of St. Francis of Assisi, thank him for the miracles they believe he performed.

Role two: In spring, members of the Huicholes indigenous population cross the desert of San Luis Potosí to make sacrifices on the Cerro del Quemado (Burnt Mountain) of Real de Catorce, which is considered the birthplace of their tatewari (grandfather fire).

At the reception desk I asked what a trip there would cost, including a three-hour taxi ride. They made some phone calls, and I got an offer for six hundred pesos with an English-speaking driver for five hours. I really couldn’t complain, so at about nine o’clock I started the adventure, leaving the dogs in the WoMo. The weather conditions were such that I didn’t have to fear for their health - it might have even been too hot for them.

I was very lucky with my chauffeur. He was communicative and curious. He had acquired his English skills from several illegal border crossings into the USA and various jobs behind the border. A large family on the “rich brother’s” side helped him. However, for seventeen years he had been living in Matehuala, raising seven children, and enjoying six grandchildren. I was proud to hear all this in the half hour the trip lasted. He no longer wanted to work in the USA, because driving a taxi there would not bring him more money than here, as the cost of living was higher. So, he had decided to start his family in Mexico.

At Cedral we turned off onto the cobblestone road to Real. We went up and down the mountains for twenty-two kilometers. The area was populated with small villages that were regularly connected to Matehuala by public buses. Life went its quiet course here and peacefully grazing horses at the roadside were a perfect match for the ambience. I was glad I had taken the warning from my literature seriously.

We had a short stop before the connecting tunnel to the city because we had to wait for the oncoming traffic. Here all travelers were also transferred from public transport or vans to smaller transport facilities, as the former tunnel is narrow and low. I had to pay twenty pesos for this experience! Then it was off into the dark, two and a half kilometers! Truly not a road for people with claustrophobia.

Then came the “city tour” on the other side! Good God! Cobblestone pavement in its highest perfection! Narrow streets! Steep slopes! Narrow curves and junctions! Of course, the settlement was not designed for modern traffic. It was not the first time my chauffeur had been here, and he knew how to avoid the rough edges. We parked quite crookedly near the church, with the handbrake on, of course. We went somewhere for breakfast together and I tried different stuffed gorditas in one of his favorite pubs, and also the small, chopped cactus vegetables (tasted like green beans if cooked too long!).

Afterwards we visited some sights of the village. Because of me he didn’t go too fast, because the 2,700 meters of altitude difference affected my breathing and I snorted like a walrus behind my guide. But he practiced friendly paciencia with his elderly guest! However, when he wanted to get me on the horse of a well-known Mexican, I went on a vigorous strike. Photo, yes; horse, no! I gave the caballero several pesos as a tip. He thanked me, took off his hat and made the sign of the cross. I had experienced this before with an old woman in Zitácuaro, from whom I had bought some handmade embroidered blankets.

After a good two hours I ran out of energy, and we headed back. One last photo before the tunnel and then back on the bumpy road. The ride was monosyllabic, because somehow, I was tired and exhausted. It was a lot better when we had a normal tarred road under our wheels again. Like velvet and silk! As my chauffeur only earned a third of the expenses, I added another good half as a tip. He was very happy and the whole trip cost me a good sixty euros, including all extra expenses. It was really worth it...I had a nice and entertaining companion and he brought home a few pesos more than usual. Good investment!

Chapter 2

Matehuala – (San Luis Potosí) – Zacatecas 400 km

Day 5

San Luis Potosi and Zacatecas

It was the day of three surprises, although for Mexico one surprise a day would be enough!

We had (thank God) left early. It was two hundred kilometers to San Luis Potosí. So, if nothing came up, we could arrive at the chosen accommodation at a lake in the early afternoon. I wanted to go with the dogs for a long walk again and let them splash around in the water.

Before San Luis Potosí, my GPS did not have the brand-new bypass in its catalog, so it guided me onto the ring road. Good, I thought! But this ring road was a construction site with innumerable traps and horrible topes (road bumps). We moved forward at walking pace and that cost us at least an hour of time. It might be pleasant in the near or distant future to be able to rush around the city, but today, after two hundred kilometers through desert landscape devoid of people, this situation annoyed me.

Finally, we had reached the main road to Zacatecas and drove to the described small town (name not applicable) with its trailer park. First surprise: a thick chain in front of the entrance gate and not a soul to be seen! Locals sent me along a small side street. It was a dirt road to the lake, and it led to the back of the parks, but for me it was impassable because of a tree. I grabbed my doggies, and we went to explore on foot. The same result again! Well locked and lonely. With my best Spanish I found out that this park is only open on weekends. Today was Tuesday! The location would have been so convenient for the next two days! So, what to do now?

I decided to drive back the thirty-four kilometers to San Luis Potosí and visit the second place from my book. I didn’t want to drive on the ring road under any circumstances. I decided to take the new bypass and pay the toll fee as well. A hundred and twenty-five pesos would not be the end of the world if we could avoid the construction sites and save time. I reached the Matehuala ring road again, four kilometers north of my destination. So once again, four lanes into town and slowed down a hundred times by road barriers (topes)! Where was the described motel? Had I missed it? So once again, turn around and walk in the opposite direction. GPS reported arrival at destination but nothing to see for miles and miles!

Second surprise: there was a closed-off piece of land, but no motel, no parking lots far and wide! This overnight accommodation seemed to be a thing of the past. There I was, standing on 1,800 meters of altitude in the middle of Mexico and had no place to stay and parking free was too risky for me.

In the meantime, it had turned half past two due to all the back and forth. Of course, I still had nothing between my teeth. What then? San Luis Potosí as a colonial city was dead for me! My next destination was another two hundred kilometers away at 2,400 meters altitude: Zacatecas! If I pressed the accelerator, I could make it by nightfall. If not, a PEMEX petrol station would surely be the last chance to spend the night. I gritted my teeth and comforted my dogs. Once again road tolls paid - for nothing and nothing at all!

Pampa was the right word! We drove the whole route through no man’s land, plateaus and desert vegetation. The road was excellent, slowly but steadily rising and the speed was mostly limited to 80 km/ h. I, as a stranger in this country, kept to it. However, trucks as well as local cars rushed mercilessly past me but I did not want to give any police officers a reason to stop me. From time to time, one could still see signposts to some villages in the distance in this wasteland, but they were only accessible via dusty roads.

Hopefully, I did not pull the bum-deal card again. Thanks to my newly acquired navigator I found my way through the maze of motorways, bypasses and libramentos (free highways) of Zacatecas. Without this clever little box, I would have been totally lost. Slowly the sun began to set. Now it was time!

Third surprise: my technical guardian angel led me to a luxury hotel called Hacienda Hoteles Baruk. But this was not the name that was mentioned in my book. Enervated, I showed the bellboy my route map. Relief: I was right here! The hotel had been given a different name about three years ago. Probably the owner had changed.

My pitch was in the public car park of the site but had everything a camper’s heart could desire. The corresponding sanitary facilities were tip-top for Mexican conditions and the connections worked. It was high time to check in, because when I came out of the reception, night had fallen. The twilight period is relatively short in these latitudes. A quarter of an hour longer and I would have been in the dark!

For 350 pesos (21.-€) a night the price for Mexico was not exactly low, but for American or German conditions quite acceptable. At least the fitness room and the swimming pool were available for the camper guests. Nevertheless, nothing is perfect as I had the noise of the bypass in front of my nose and an electric railway with goods transport in my back. I did not care about all that today! I had my place to sleep for the next three days and would not move the car before Friday under any circumstances. Maybe I was broken. By the way, you had to consider that the air at 2,400 meters was much thinner than at sea level. I had to deal with my puff slowly and small efforts threw me off track immediately. But slowly my body would get used to it. I had already trained in Real de Catorce (2,750m) when I was always puffing after my Mexican companion at quite a distance. My two Wuffis didn’t seem to mind the change in altitude.

If I had known that I was going to fail beforehand, I would have taken the direct route from Saltillo. I would have saved myself two hundred kilometers, but I would have missed Real de Catorce. What happened, happened! In any case, we had landed well, even if we had driven a lot of miles. I would have to send the authors of the camping guide some updates soon!

Day 6

Zacatecas – Cerro de la Bufa

What is the best way to get an overview? Correctly! If available, you go up a mountain! Zacatecas has some of them around it. In the middle of the city the Bufa rose, which offered a fantastic overview.

As I was staying on the outskirts, three kilometers from the city center, I had a taxi waiting for me. Of course, I wanted to go to the lower cable car station, but the taxi driver misunderstood me, intentionally or unintentionally, and drove me to the top for 110 pesos. Oh, well! Then I will let the cable car take me down. I am flexible.

There was bright sunshine, and the heat went up to 20°C. The previous night we had frost. According to my weather forecast these temperature drops should continue for the next days. That’s why the best thing will be to dress warmly and peel like an onion during the day!