So my friend, Tom, and I decided to go on a trip. We both have been wanting to go to Veracruz, so that was our destination. I have been very curious about Las Pozas, a surrealist sculpture garden in the jungle outside of Xilitla (hee leet la), and it was kind of on the way, so we went there first.
It turns out out it required a somewhat circuitous bus route from Guanajauto to Leon to San Luis Potosi to Ciudad Valles to Xilitla. This is the landscape we were driving through in the morning:
And after arriving around 10 at night, this is what we woke up in the next day:
Xilitla is a beautiful little town nestled in jungle hillsides. It was hot and humid, but the green was so welcome to me I didn’t complain too much. We woke up in the wee hours to the Sunday Market being set up right under out window. Tom had dreamt all morning about someone dragging a huge blanket around. You know how much noise those blankets make.
These birds also made their fair share of riotous racket, right outside our windows for much of the night and morning. It was remarkable.
After wandering around town a bit we headed to Las Pozas. It was a couple mile walk out of town.
It was a pretty amazing place, with all of these poured concrete structures inserted into the jungle.
I just kept imagining being there for a fancy cocktail party.
The best part, by far, was a stream and waterfall and pools where you could swim. I ended up swimming in my clothes because I could not have lived with myself had a walked away from such luscious pools.
We trekked back to town, (me all refreshed, and poor Tom, sweating like a horse in all that hot humidity) where it is equally interesting and beautiful.
I have approximately a jillion more pictures, most of which I have put into flikr so I will figure out how to make that public, sometime soon.
The 16 hour bus ride to Chihuahua wasn’t that bad. Even with a flat tire in the middle of the night and despite the fact that a had a full blown fever by the time we arrived in Chihuahua. There were three decent movies, in English. We had good snacks and Mikko and I, anyway, slept pretty well.
We caught the bus to Chihuahua in Leon, the capital of shoes and leather. I so wish I was a cowboy boot wearer.
The driver needed someone in the drivers seat while he changed the tire at 3 in the morning. We all happened to be up, so Mikko took this picture.
Chihuahua is the Yakima valley of Mexico, there are acres and acres of apple trees. The nets are to protect from hail.
We arrived in Chihuahua around noon, I went strait to bed and stayed there in fitfull feverish sleep for the next 16 hours. We got up at about 4:30 the next morning to get to the train station for our next 16 hour adventure.
The train was lovely. The best part being open windows in the vestibules where you could stand and stick your head out and wave at people. Between the fever, which I was able to keep somewhat at bay with Tylonol and a bodacious headache from caffien withdrawal which I never quite got rid of, (even after realizing what was going on and drinking tea and coke,) I was really quite miserable most of the day. I did have moments of happiness though - at the windows. The landscape was stunning.
For those of you who enjoy the moving image and the sounds too, (you just can’t beat the sounds of a train, in my humble opinion):
The one drag of the train (besides my misery,) was the prices . They don’t allow you to bring food on and everything is SUPER expensive 22 pesos (over $2) for a cup of weak black tea, $5 for a deck of cards, ( thank god they had that though,) $2 for a bag of chips…
The bar is pretty classy looking though.
My advice is to either take subtle snacks - or try the second class train, which they say has more delays, but it could be worth it for the freedom of creating your own culinary experience.
The train is an actual commuter train as well with stops all a long the way. There is one main tourist stop, where you can get off the train and see the canyon.
The Tarahumara people live in the area and make amazing baskets from pine needles, and desert plants. It seems that much of their business depends on the daily train coming through, loaded with tour groups.
One more train video:
We arrived in Los Mochis, where we are right now, at 10:30 last night, thinking that we would take a morning ferry to La Paz, on Baja. We found out though that there is only one ferry a day and it is at 11 pm. Our checkout time was noon. Sadness.
Los Mochis is a very strange Mexican town. It was founded in the 20s as a sugar production site, so it doesn’t have any of the the old colonial architecture or layout. It is big boulevards lined with chain stores and palm trees.
It feels like California. We went to a ” sushi” restaurant for lunch. It seemed to just be an excuse to wrap rice and creamcheese together in different combinations. I actually had some excellent chicken soup.
We are spending the afternoon in a mall that Mikko and Matthew found this morning while I stayed in bed until the last possible minute. It is a little slice of youth heaven with a bowling ally, poolhall, arcade, snackbar AND internet. It works well for us. Matthew and Mikko have bowled and are now in the arcade. I have Kleenex in my ears, to protect from all the competing noises, Dance Dance Revolution on one side, poolhall music on the other and the crash of bowling balls and pins behind, and am doing this.
Soonish, I suppose we will get our stuff from the hotel and take a bus the 27 kilometers to the town where the ferry leaves from and hope to find a cozy spot on the beach to wait. Hopefully the Tylonol will continue to keep my fever away (and I remembered to drink some black tea this morning so I don’thave that headache, hallelualuah.)
It is 1 a.m. Christmas morning. Mikko and I are sleeping upstairs in hopes of catching Santa red handed. I’m not hopeful that Mikko will because it sounds like there is a battlefield just outside our door and he has been fast asleep for hours. The fireworks have been going all night, but they really picked up about midnight. The whole basin that is Guanajuato is filled with smoke. My eyes are actually stinging and I am sitting inside on my couch. There are m80 type explosions as well as those whistling kind and even sparklers that people throw from their rooftops. I’m glad that the building material of choice here is concrete and stucco. The sounds of the blasts echo back and forth between the basin walls.
Here is a video I took at 12:20. The noises you hear are not me tapdancing, they are the fireworks. There continues to be that much if not more noise, as I write. Cheeze!! They are SO LOUD. And the poor dogs are barking up a storm.
The people down below are swinging the Baby Jesus and singing him a special song. It is what people do the last night of Posada now that Mary and Joseph have finally found their stable and the baby has been born. Carlyn was in town today and saw many people carefully carrying around their Niños. Unfortunately we made it through the whole nine days of Posada and never happened upon, or were invited to a Posada. We will be going out to our landlady/lord’s ranch today for a little Niño swinging, so all is not lost.
Well, I uploaded the wrong one. I had a better one of the Niño swinging but you get the idea. It is loud and there is a lot of activity into the wee hours. It is 2 am now and things have died down a tiny bit. But I do hear a party across the way and lots of loud little kid voices sailing into the basin. Maybe I will try to get some sleep. Still no sign of Santa.
One of the things that so strikes me living here is the constant collage of sound.
It is 10 pm and I am the only one awake in the house. Right now I hear the wind gusting outside, there is a festival to Santa Maria happening in the square below us and in our neighborhood, so of course I can hear disco music blasting from the square (because you know how those saints loved disco,) and a number of different songs coming from people’s houses around, screams of joy, ( I think there is a trampoline of some sort set up down there,) dogs barking and a neighbor’s loose metal roof clanging in the wind.
There are times when many of these sounds are present as well as church bells. I find that particularly amazing and beautiful. One sound that we don’t hear from here and that I don’t miss is traffic. There is no road close enough to transport its sound to our house. I love that.
I have found that I am very capable now, of hearing more than one song playing at a time, without it driving me crazy. Which is a good thing or I would have been carted off to the loony bin by now.
