Flying home

Mar 4/09: The the first part flight home was absolutely spectacular. A completely different perspective on New Mexico and Utah. The wintry views below were other worldly and I had a feast with my camera.

That's the end of the trip. I'm sorry it's over. I hope you've enjoyed coming along.

Adios.

Thoroughly bussed

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March 11/09: Arrived here in Albuquerque this afternoon after some 30 hrs of bus travel. It all went pretty well for a language impaired old gringo; connections were OK, not too much waiting. Caught the local bus in Real de Catorce back out through that tunnel (2.3k long, not 1 mile as I'd thought) first thing yesterday morning, then the big bus back to Matehuela where I caught a second class bus to Saltillo that wound up backtracking to almost where I'd started out in the morning. That was a long slow trip but I've learned there are benefits to second class bus travel. They include: 1) usually no movies (This is a big benefit for me. I find the movies almost impossible to keep my eyes off, try as I might, and they detract greatly from the scenery.); 2) food vendors get on the bus periodically and often have some nice goodies, gorditas, empanadas, burritos, etc; 3) they're cheaper. The downsides are: 1) there's no bathroom (which, given the state of many bathrooms on 1st class buses, may, in fact be a pro. A rule of thumb is to avoid a seat too close to the bathroom to avoid the smells that often emanate from them.); 2) they make frequent stops and, thus, take longer; 3) they're generally grungier. Some of the 1st class buses are really nice, comfy, fully reclining seats, big windows, lots of legroom, and there are buses a step above 1st class that are consistently superb; headsets for the movies so you don't have to hear them if you don't want to, very clean, including the bathroom but more expensive. Of course, more expensive translates into just a few dollars when converting pesos. But they're aren't many of those buses. Another bus observation: the company that operates the buses that run up into the States, Americanos, operates quite nice buses in Mexico but, at the border, you have to change buses and the ones they run north of the border are pretty much like 2nd class buses with a bathroom (usually vile). On the subject of buses, the drivers all seem stamped out of a similar mold and look almost identical: white shirts with dark, conservative tie, black pants and shiny black shoes. And they're uniformly arrogant and self-important.

But I digress. I arrived in Saltillo mid-afternoon, a city of over half a million in a quite pretty setting surrounded by those stark desert mountains. Had time there for some food, then caught another bus to Torreon from where I caught yet another bus, an all-nighter, to El Paso where the border crossing is and where we changed to the grungy bus after an excruciating wait. That close to my destination, I was getting antsy. The time for departure was 10:00am and I watched that time come and go on my watch until I realized that I was in a different time zone and it was an hour earlier. But, once again, I saw 10:00 come and go until, at around 10:30 we were off. Finally, on the last leg. We went about 3 blocks and pulled into the Greyhound station. What the.... Another 15 min there taking on more passengers. Then, at long last, we were really off, heading up the freeway to Albuquerque! Until we made a rest stop half an hour later. Good grief! I recognized this gas station/restaurant from my other trips along this route. They stop there going both directions. Must have some kind of deal with the place. And, again, we were off. Then we pulled over and stopped for a minute for no apparent reason. And started again. An hour or so later, a stop for the border patrol. They opened the luggage compartment of the bus, pulled a few pieces of luggage out and brought over the sniffer dog. It sniffed that luggage then hopped into the luggage compartment with the other luggage and sniffed there while a very brusk, business-like US Army soldier got on the bus and examined everyone's documents. He didn't like the look of one young Mexican man's papers and ordered him off the bus where he could be seen sternly talking to the young man. Then he took that young man into a building and we waited for the outcome. The young man never did come out and we were signaled to proceed without him. That kind of cast a pall on all of us passengers for a bit. I think we all found it unnerving. Wonder what he'd done wrong and what they

did with him.

And that was pretty much it. Arrived without further incident or stops, thankfully, mid-afternoon and was picked up at the bus station by my beloved cousin, Kathy. A beautiful, unseasonably warm day in Albuquerque and I was very glad to have arrived with my belongings intact and in one piece if a bit bus lagged.

Mar 2/09: Several days have passed here in Albuquerque. As usual an action-packed time. Being with my cousin, Lance and his wife, Kathy is always interesting as they are intensively involved in the community here and always have a lot going on. And the weather has been a treat, unseasonably warm for here and I'm enjoying that in anticipa tion of cold, wet weather at home. So I'm out walking a lot, enjoying the sandhill cranes that spend time in the field across the street on their way north, walking in the the nature centre down the street and around the neighborhood, taking in the art museum. One of the most noteworthy experiences for me was participating in Tibetan New Years again. Lance and Kathy have been involved with a Tibetan family for years stemming from the time they lived in Nepal. They've helped and supported this family with their immigration issues and, of course medical issues and so forth and have a long-standing relationship. All three of the times that I've been to Mexico, I've used Albuquerque as a springboard into the country and an exit point and every time my visit here has coincided with Tibetan New Years. Their celebration actually encompasses several days and on one
of the days, this family invites their non-Tibetan friends from the community. The preparation goes on for days and a lavish Tibetan banquet is laid on. An elaborate shrine and offerings takes up most of one room and we were given an explanation of the significance of the items that were carefully laid out. A complex cosmology of gods and goddesses, intricate tankha paintings, food laid out in specific patterns as offerings. It is usually a more festive occasion but, because of the dire conditions in Tibet right now and in the recent past, the Dalai Lama advocated more subdued celebrations. I consider it an honour to be able to take part in this tradition and feel very lucky.

As most of you know, I am a chile head. Many years ago I subscribed to Chile Pepper magazine, published here in Albuquerque. Every year they featured the Fiery Foods festival, a big event here where the manufacturers of almost any sort of hot food condiment show their wares. I've always wanted to go and was fortunate that my visit coincided with this year's show, the 21st such. An amazing event it was with hundreds of booths, thousands of people and every sort of chile pepper related food product you could imagine, but mostly hot sauces. Kathy and I must have sampled 150 hot sauces, salsas, marinades, jellys, chilies, chowders, dips, candies and we just scratched the surface.

The next day was a music day. The first event was a performance at the Church of Beethoven. This is a weekly event organized by one of the cellists in the Albuquerque Symphony in a small venue, maybe 100 people, featuring all sorts of auditory arts, if that's the correct description. It started with a short reading about Darwin as part of a series of Darwin related orations since this is his 200 birthday followed by a Prokofiev piece played by some members of the symphony and some students. Then a quick dash home for lunch then back to the Hispanic Cultural Center and a quick viewing of an exhibition there followed by the Albuquerque Symphony. There was a piece for violin and percussion featuring a guest percussionist, Simon Boyar who was terrific.

Yesterday a lovely hike at the base of big, pretty Sandia mountain with a friend of Lance's. I really love this area, so big and open, intense blue sky, puffy white clouds and a totally different end of the colour palette than I'm used to.

So today I was cycling through town to a lunch date with Lance and as I was cycling along I looked at the date on my watch and saw that it was the 3rd. I knew that before but it didn't really penetrate. Then somehow it dawned on me: my flight left early this morning. !!!!!! I just totally spaced it out. I suppose the mitigating circumstance was that, while I was traveling, my point of reference for the date was my watch which allotted 29 days to February, making the 3rd a Wednesday. So I'd been going on the assumption that I left on Wednesday. I was all set to leave tomorrow. As it turned out, I was able to get the same flight out tomorrow anyway for a few extra dollars but, nonetheless, it sent me for a loop. So, home tomorrow it is.

And that's the end of the blog. I hope that those of you who have followed along have enjoyed it.

Nope, I lied; one more blog to come.

Saludos and adios amigos y familia.

Slight Real-ity shift

Feb 23/09: It's Monday and things have settled down a little here. That cheesey "Red River Valley" thing happened again at 6:00am. Must be the town alarm clock. And the church bells ring on the half hour and the stereos compete and the chickens cluck, the dogs bark, roosters crow but most of the tourists have gone and the streets are pretty empty. Kids were heading for school and there was a more industrious air about town as I headed out for a hike. My destination was a distant peak I've had my eye on. A trail can be seen zig-zagging up to it and it looked very enticing to me. A beautiful cloudless morning, cold as usual until I ascended into the sun and started shedding layers. It took a long time before I left the sounds of town behind me but eventually stillness descended and it was lovely to be walking in the quiet, cool morning air with landscapes opening up as I climbed. As I started up the last steep pitch to the top I looked up and, oh dear, those are people up there! I had solitude in mind and, once again, that little fear bug bit. Nonetheless, I continued up and just before I reached the top, a group of descending Huichol folks came in sight along with a young, anglo Huichol wannabee. We "buenos diased", down they went and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I'd have solitude after all and wouldn't be robbed and/or killed. At the top the view was stupendous. The flat desert plains way below stretched out to the horizon. There was a smoldering fire pit in the middle of concentric circles of stones and a little stone hut with various offerings inside and out, Christian and Huichol, coins, crosses, little Huichol woven things along with the usual non-sacred offerings, cigarette butts, plastic bottles, candy wrappers. I found a place to sit and contemplate the view and ponder the Huichol's relationship with this place; tried to imagine them walking that 400k across that desert and up into these mountains. And up there I could get a sense of the world beneath me turning slowing and the endless sky above. Then along came a couple of guys and, lo and behold, it was Jack, the Frenchman who was staying with me at Lety's place in San Luis Potosi. He'd opted for the guided horseback tour. We exchanged a few words and they went off but I could hear the endless spiel of the guide just going on and on so I moved off to silence again. And right at noon, wafting on the breeze into that stillness came strains of that damn cheesey "Red River Valley" thing like a malign curse. It deserved a chuckle.



After I'd had my fill of that mountaintop, I descended but made another side trip up to some other ruins I'd spied from the top. Another climb up to what looked like ruins from various eras, some old and crumbling, obviously Spanish ones, others newer and there were power lines to the site. Poked around there some before heading back into town.

Had a coffee at the Café Azul (blue cafe) where they have nice coffee and those teeny computers. Nice gals there who have come know my coffee preferance. Then went grocery shopping at the one and only large-ish grocery store where the girl serving me was going for the gold in the snotty clerk event. Lots of them here. Then sat on my rooftop terrace with my book for a while until the noise again drove me out of town. I hadn't intended on going so far but found myself way up by the old mine again in order to escape the noise. It was lovely up there with the sun sinking low casting a golden light, the sounds of the town fading. There I came upon a herd of sheep shepharded by three dogs and a shephard with his transistor radio blaring. Oom pah, oom pah. He wandered off and I did too and found a nice place to sit overlooking the ruins and mountain scenery below. And right at 6:00 guess what? That cheesey tune again!! The only sound that carried way up there. Lucky for me.

Thus ends my stay in Real de Catorce and my Mexican sojourn. Tomorrow I'll try to get to Albuquerque or as close to it as I can. Stay tuned for more from there.

Real-ity

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Feb 22/09: This is really an odd little town. Noisyest place place I've been per capita. Early this morning I hiked up to the old mine, a couple of miles up a switchback road accompanied by sounds from the town: roosters crowing, hens clucking (virtually indistinguishable from the people talking), bells tolling, dogs barking, donkeys braying, radios and stereos blaring. And that was around 8:30! Even before that, when I was still in bed, before 6:00, it started; a cheesy synthesized bell-like sound playing what sounded like a weird version of "Red River Valley" along with frenzied ringing of the church bell.

Noise aside, it was a lovely hike in the cold, clear morning air. The air is so clear here that sound carries beautifully which might account partially for my perception of the noise. The mine ruins are kind of interesting, crumbling walls, many arches and a big central shaft going straight down who knows how far. Good camera stuff. Clouds began to funnel up from below and swirled around the mountains providing a dramatic panorama. From the mine, I followed a ridge high up over the town. If I walked in the lee of the ridge, I was out of the biting wind but into the sounds from below and if I walked on the windy side, all was quiet but quite cold. I opted for wind and continued along the ridge for a couple of hours, stopped for a snack and around noon, arrived back in town.

Another pecularity I've noticed here is that the homes and businesses are built amidst and on top of the ruins of the old town, sort of a reversal of history where the Spaniards built with and on top of the homes of the indigenous people. Maybe it's history coming full circle. In any case, it's hard to tell where the ruins end and the newer building begin.

I wonder how many of the people here are native to Real de Catorce. I get the feeling that most of them have moved here recently to service the tourists which seems to be the only game in town. Unusual for a Mexican town where people live for generations.

Later........... Wow, a big people's computer. This feels really neat. Found a new internet place. No coffee or dessert but real computers.

The longer I'm here, the less I like this town. It would have probably been better to have left it to decay. It really has no character, just tourists (mostly Mexican) and those who exist off the tourists. A broken place. Residents jaded from their parasitic sort of livlihood. And it's such gorgeous landscape. I feel bad for the Huichols who hold deep reverence for this land and whose lifestyle has been coopted by international new-age hippy kids who compete with them to sell handicrafts on the streets. I think the best way to experience it would be camping off away from town.

Tomorrow my goal is to have as little to do with the town as possilbe, just head off into the hills early.

Those are my impressions from this afternoon. Sorry they aren't more positive.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Something completely different/The Real Deal

Feb 29/09: Out of the steamy small town of Xilitla (I´ve since learned is pronounced Heeleetla) to the dry, coolness of big San Luis Potosí (SLP), capital of the state of the same name. Was just as glad to wake up to another rainly morning in Xilitla yesterday. Cemented my decision to leave. Another long day on the buses beginning with a long winding way through the lush Sierra Gorda, ending on the high, dry and sere rangeland of SLP. On the way I passes more orange groves than I ever believed existed. In one small town there were a huge number of semi trucks with trailers brimming with oranges.

At my hotel in Xilitla I met Lety Marquez who lives in SLP, and her Texan husband, Tony. She teaches Spanish here and has rooms to rent. I connected with her when I arrived and am staying in her house for my brief time here along with her mother, husband (who lives between here and San Antonio), her daughter, Brian from Auburn, California, Chris from Sweden, Jack from France, Kumiko from Japan and others I´ve not met. Had some reservations about the accommodations initially as I don´t like shared bathrooms but it´s turned out to be quite comfortable. After I got lodged, I set out to look around the downtown. It´s pretty much standard issue colonial Spanish: big, ornate cathedrals, plazas and collonades. There are a lot of pedestrian malls so walking around town is fairly pleasant and not as hazardous as other towns.

This morning I fully intended to set off early to explore more but got into a protracted conversation with Brian with whom I have a lot in common, it turns out. An interesting guy. He periodically spends long periods away from his home and his wife who he´s been with since they were 15; a year in Saudi Arabia, a year in Slovakia and now who knows how long in Mexico. I walked with him on his way to his English teaching job and he showed me a few sights before we parted. I then explored on my own for the rest of the day. Visited some art musuems, saw some so-so art and more colonial architecture. Of note here in SLP, at least in my limited experience, is the food: it´s terrible! My Lonely Planet talks about the interesting Huastecan fare on offer but its been awful. And, so far, I haven´t even been able to find a tortilleria so thatI can buy some tortillas and make my own dinner. One thing they have in abundance is dessert shops, ice cream parlours, chocolate shops, sweets galore and copy shops (for copying documents, might be related to the university and student population).

Feb 21/09: Working on this teeny-tiny laptop which is what there is on offer at this cyber-cafe in Real de Catorce. I feel like Gulliver in Lilliputian land trying to operate this little keyboard. Better than the dial-up I was led to expect by Lonely Planet. Thankfully they've done some modernizing here since my copy was published. This is still a pretty out of the way place, high in the nothern dessert, (2770m) and about as different from either Xilitla or SLP as can be imagined.

Headed off early this morning and was blessed with superbly coordinated connections by chance. Took a long time getting out of the urban sprawl of SLP but soon we were rolling along in a nice newish bus through the moonlike landscape of this huge dessert, the largest in North America. The last 23k of the trip was on a cobbled road and we vibrated along slowly until reaching the mile long tunnel that is cut through the mountain to Real de Catorce. There we had to again change buses as our large one wouldn't fit, in fact there's only room for one way traffic in that tunnel. Finally we were spewed out into the sunlight and into the gamut of a long row of vendors awaiting the tourists. I was surprised to find this to be an unashamedly tourist place, most of the businesses either gift shops or restaurants and guys hanging out with horses attempting to entice tourists for a ride to the mine. This was a flourishing silver mining town of 40,000 until early last century when the mine gave out and it was nearly abandoned. Recently it has become revitalized,visited by well-heeled Mexicans and tourists from the US, many of them young hippy types drawn by the mystique of the Huichol indians known as the Peyote People. Fiercely independent, they are one of the only groups not subjugated by the Aztecs or the Spanish. Traditionally , they lived by hunting deer an cultivating scattered fields of corn in the high valleys. Their home is in Jalisco to the west but every year they make the 400km pilgrimage across Mexico's central plateau ti this area to seek out the mecal cactus, otherwise known as peyote, that is central to the Huichol's rituals and complex spiritual life. Small amounts of peyote help to ward off hunger, cold and fatigue, while larger amouts are taken on ritual occasions, such as the return from the annual pilgrimage. In particular, peyote is used by shamans whose visions inform them about when to plant and harvest corn, where to hunt deer or how to treat illnesses. The use of peyote also contributes to some rather psychedelic art, animal shapes covered in beads of startling colours and similar beaded bags and wild string art.

Lonely Planet did come through with a good hotel recommendation, nice, clean place for 100 pesons per night ($10). After settling in I went exploring and walked the few roughly cobbled streets in a short time. Needing to stretch my legs, I thought I'd walk a ways up the hill behind my hotel. It just kept drawing me up further and I wound up walking to the top, a very steep climb but the view was amazing. This is as amazing in it's own way as Xilitla and at the opposite end of the spectrum: air crisp and dry and very clear, sparse, scrubby vegetation, no flowers, elusive wildlife. I watched an electrical storm pass over the valley way down below, shafts of rain and sunlight filtering down and it seemed I could see much further than the horizon. Tomorrow I'll set off on one of the many trails I saw winding through the nearby mountains. A report will follow.

Buenas noches.

Sunny & Surreal

Feb 18/09: Had my bags all packed this morning, ready to press on. Then I opened the door of my hotel room, stepped onto the balcony and saw that the sky was clear, pondered for a moment and booked my room for another night. Just can´t tear away. From my balcony I could see the silhouette of the peak I´d looked for in vain yesterday which I now learn is known as Sellito, I think, a striking, snaggletooth rocky thing poking up in the distance. After a few moments of vascillating about which direction to go, I decided to see where that road leading upwards that I walked for a while yesterday led. Up I went; and up and up. The pavement ended and yet more up, through little settlements, more coffee, oranges, flowers, the ususal trappings of paradise; coffee drying on the roofs of many homes, the usual scruffy dogs and chickens; passers by always with a ¨buenos dias¨(until noon when it switches to ¨buenas tardes¨, Mexicans have an unfailing sense of the exact moment of the change). Killer views out over the ranges of the Huasteca receeding into the steamy distance. Stopped by a house to make a photographic record of the view and the resident señora greeted me with the obligatory ¨buenos dias¨and after the obligatory response I raved about the view and she agreed, then gestured at the coffee cherries drying on her roof and said, ¨café¨, I agreed, then she pointed at the orange trees and said, ¨naranja¨and I agreed. I asked the name of the big cliff towering above us and she told me it is San Antonio. I asked if one could walk up there and she said yes and indicated a path further on. I followed what I interpreted her directions to be and took a path up through the jungle, negotiated a barbed wire fence and joined up with a concrete road leading upwards. It didn´t go far, as it turned out but by then I´d gone far enough anyway, it was getting hot and I was soaked in sweat. I picked a few oranges to eat and as I was doing so, I heard voices and saw three young men approaching up the road. My first response was fear. There I was again, the vulneralbe lone old gringo. Then they smiled and said ¨hola¨and I relaxed. They just had work to do up there. So I sat with some horses looking on, eating oranges admiring and photographing the view. Then, as I strolled to the end of the road there appeared another young machete weilding man and again a jolt of fear but, again, he smiled with a ¨hola¨and asked if I´d seen his buddies. I said I had and that they were down the road. With a wave and a smile he followed them.

Time for other adventures so back down I started. As I passed a group of men hanging out on their porch, one old timer waved me over insistently and, with some reluctance, I complied. They cleared a chair for me, sat me down, introduced themselves and tried to engage me in conversation which I did my best to oblige. I learned that the elderly man who initiated the invitation to me was Nahua and proud of his bilingual ability. A younger man offered me a beer and his wife attempted to tell me more about San Antonio, the star that has been placed at it´s summit and the gold mines up there. Her husband went to get what he insisted was a gold nugget and offered it for sale to me which I declined. After a bit I bid them adieu and proceeded down the road to town, exchanging greetings all the way. One man stopped, beamed at me like I was a long lost friend, extended his hand and welcomed me to this beautiful place with an expansive gesture indicating the whole area.

Back in town I had a delicious mole verde lunch at the public market. I´m feeling more adventurous about food, partly inspired by a gringo couple I met here who eat just about anywhere without bad results.

After lunch I was lured back to Las Posas by the prospect of immersion in one of those beautiful cold pools. It was getting hotter and steamier and my clothes were sticking to me and the prospect of a cool dip was irresistable. As I headed down the road to the park, another man stopped me and proudly pointed out the peak, Sellito, as if he´d conjured it. I admired it with him and went on. By the time I reached those pools up a long, arduous stairway I was drenched again and after I´d followed the river up a ways to what I thought would be a secluded spot, I stripped and plunged in. Esctasy!!! Sat there for some time blissing out, photographing butterflys and then, to my consternation along came two teenagers. There I was, a naked old gringo with all of my belonging there on the side of the pool, camera, money belt, clothes and they smiled and ¨hola-ed¨me and on they went as if there were usually naked old gringos there.

Back in town now and I really do have to press on tomorrow. As strong as is the attraction here, as beatiful as it is, it is a tad toasty for me.

And further adventures await.

Miscellenia

• Mexicans love to build arches - sometimes with no particular relevance, just an arch in the middle of a field or a wall




• For the first time during my visits to Mexico (except late at night) I experienced quiet bus rides. For the first hour between GTO and Queretaro, it was silent! Then a BBC documentary. No media at all from Queretaro to Xilitla on the second class bus.




• Saw one of the places where GM moved to on the bus between GTO and Queretaro. Humongous plant! And several monstrous, walled maquiladoras (sp?), the Mexican sweat shops a la NAFTA.



• The only people who don't return greetings on the street are other gringos.



• Fabulous Mexican food: limes, mole, gorditas (fat tortillas stuffed with any number of things like egg, potatoes, garbanzos, meat, chiles, etc), tamales, strawberries for $1 a pound (pesticide included no charge), corn on a stick with chile, and, oh, the fresh squeezed orange juice! good Mexican wine



• The consistently spiffiest places in Mexico are the state owned Pemex gas stations and the banks. Absolutely spotless.



• People sweep a lot, usually with wrecked brooms or just branches tied together; out early in the morning in front of their shops sweeping and sweeping.



• Big foul smelling bubbling cauldrons of meat everywhere around the public market in Xilitla.



• According to a man I met at Las Posas who was filming for a documentary on surrealist art, three of the worlds largest caves are withing two hours of Xilitla including one that drops straight down hundreds of feet and where there are life forms not seen since the Pleistocene.


• Amazing feats of strength: guys in Guanajuato carrying those great big propane canisters up a long, steep alleyway and, to top that, guys carrying three five gallon water jugs at a time up the same alleyway. We're talking several blocks here.
• New Mexico has a state cookie, a short bread/anise type thing. Don't know the name of it.
• New Mexico also has a state question. It is: red or green? Can you guess? Red or green chile, what else? It's a staple part of the New Mexican diet. A sort of stew made from roasted peppers mostly. Very tasty.

I do believe this is truly the end. Twas a fine trip and I wish I was still on it. I've posted photos at: bicycle.smugmug.com

Andres

Surrealistic days

Feb 16/09: Rain and cloud this morning. Up early nonetheless and out on the balcony to observe the early morning street scene. Later getting started than in GTO. Clouds again obscured the mountains but by 9:00 it had stopped raining so I set off for Las Posas, the main attraction at Xilitla aside from the setting. Las Posas is a sculpture park created in the early 70s by Edward James, eccentric English expat, rumoured to be the illegitimate son of King Edward the VII, Oxford educated, from a family of nobility and substantial wealth but notably dysfunctional. James had a passion for surrealist art, had the world´s largest collection of it and traveled in the surrealist art circles of Europe fubbing shoulders with the likes of Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Pable Picasso, etc. He moved to the States and hobnobbed with the Hollywood set, Aldus Huxley, and others before throwing it all in and moving to Xilitla, Mexico in the early 70s where, with the help of noted Mexican architect Plutarco Gastelum, the skilled carpentry of Jose Aguilar, 40 workers from Xilitla, 5 million dollars and17 years, created a vast sculpture park in the jungle, full of his amazing surrealist creations. It´s a couple of mile walk to the park from town and, soon the houses and traffic thinned and I became aware of the jungle pressing in on every side. Here and there were groves of orange trees interspersed with the coffee that seemed to grow everywhere as well as giant ferns, banna trees, vines, racuous oropendula birds flitting about, growth everywhere, flowers unknown to me but highly photogenic. Rubbernecking the whole way, it took me a while to get there but when I finally arrived at Las Posas I was in for an amazing spectacle. There on the steep slopes of the jungle was the most amazing creation imaginable. Impossible, towering surreal concrete shapes covering acres and acres, blended into pools and waterfalls and stairways amidst the amazing forest vegetation, paths leading from one to another; it just went on and on and after several hours I still hadn´t seen all of it and was distracted by hunger so decided to save the rest for tomorrow. I also needed to clean some wounds incurred when I fell on the slippery stones and whacked my head. Incidentally, you can see pictures by Googling Xilitla.

Feb 17/09: Returning from Las Posas yesterday I lunched at La Flor de Café, a restaurant run by a collective of Nahua women (the largest of the indigenous groups Mexico). Had a nice mole rojo lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon strolling around.

Off early to Las Posas this morning. Though it was cloudy and misty when I left, halfway there the sun peeked out and the clouds began to lift and, if I thought this was paradise with clouds all around, in the sunlight it was even more beautiful. Again, I took a long time getting to the park, detouring through the forest where I could, picking oranges, taking photos. And the park and sculptures too were even more vibrant with sunshine. One of the custodians showed me the path that led way up to the top of the waterfalls where there were pools of fresh, clear water. I sat for a long time there by the stream, eating my freshly acquired oranges and just being still. After a while I explored the parts of the park I´d missed and revisited others until hunger again pulled me back to town where I again lunched at the Nahua place on enchiladas huasteca. (The Huasteca is a large area inland from the central gulf coast named after the Huastec people who have lived here for about 3,000 yrs.)

After lunch I visited the Edward James museum where there were displays of the wooden molds that the carpenter, Jose Aguilar, made for the creation of the concrete sculptures, and more information about James and Las Posas. Then I followed a road out of town with hopes of sighting the tall peak, Silla, that can occasionally be seen when the clouds part. Though I didn´t see the peak, I did see a lot more of the town and environs as the road wound steeply up, up, up. For the first time I got a sense of the mountains that surround Xilitla as they were revealed. And the more I see, the more I like this place. Many beautiful, brightly coloured homes, that lush growth, flowers, coffee, oranges, bananas, flowering vines, hyacynths, bouganvillia, growth, growth, growth everywhere. And friendly people.

Much as I like it here, tomorrow I must move on. Tomorrow´s destination is San Luis Potosí. It´s more or less a jumping off place for Real de Catorce but I´ll spend a day there as it´s reputed to have some nice colonial architecture in the old part and good galleries. As it turns out, I met a Mexican woman at my hotel and her Texan husband who lives in San Luis Potosí, teaches Spanish there and has rooms to rent. So I have accommodations there.

More as it happens. Adios amigos.

Casa Bertha stage crew

Jorge
How could I forget the stage managers of the show, Jorge, Juan, Roy and Nora.

Jorge and Juan are the owners and are brothers. Most gracious hosts. Jorge tends to be politically incorrect and greets Oz, the German physicist, with ¨heil Oz¨, right arm raised straight out, to which Oz replies, ¨Same to you.¨ Nonetheless, they are there to greet and problem solve and to turn on the hot water at unsanctioned times. Hot water is provided from 6:45 (sometimes, usually more like 7:30) to noon. If you want it at other times, you have to ask.

Roy is the handyman, a very sweet guy with a big smile. In addition to any small repairs or painting, he fills in on Sunday night when Jorge and Juan are off. He has a mobility difficulty, probably polio as a child but that doesn´t slow him down. I ran into him all over town including up on Pipila which is a steep climb. He proudly talked about his 8 yr old son, the light of his life, an aspiring and, to hear Roy talk about him, gifted artist.

Nora is the housekeeper. She hardly says a word as she goes about her work keeping quirky old Casa Bertha spotless. They have a funny way of making beds in Mexico and I often remake the bed to suit myself. Nora picked up on it and duplicated my method after the first day. She also noticed the particular pillow I liked, taken from one of the other beds in my room, and always had that for me on my bed.

Last blast in GTO

Feb 15/09: I started the last day in GTO with another hike up the bufa first thing in the morning. This a big rock outcropping that dominates the town on the south side. In my fitter days an hour and a half hike, now two and half hours. Great views of the city and surrounding from up there. Got up to the top around 9:00am. Beautiful morning light. Great for photos. Felt great to be up there and not another soul around this time. Hiked up their earlier in the week but encountered a gang of young Mexican guys at the top so didn´t linger. Since being robbed last time I was in Mexico, I´m more cautious. They were probably fine kids and GTO is very safe but nonetheless.......

Back to town, some shopping for the road and dinner and the obligatory coffee at Café Tal. Don´t think I´ve reported on Café Tal, owned by and American expat who´s lived in GTO for the last 21 yrs and is a very passionate and expert coffee roaster. He´s also developed a chocolate syrup for his chocolate drinks that is quite remarkable. The epitome of chocolate. Goes very nicely in my Americanos.

Another nice home cooked dinner on the rooftop terrace with the usual assortment of Casa Bertha characters. Then a few of us went to the theatre at the bottom of the hill to see if we could get in to the Tango performance. We´d seen posters for this event and intended to get tickets but when we finally got around to doing so, it was sold out. So we hung around at the door and when all of the ticket holders had gone in we approached the door and, to our surprise, they let us in, for half price no less and we got great seats. And a most wonderful performance it was. Varietal, tango Argentino is an Argentine troupe, as the name suggests and utterly superb. Guitar, bass, piano, violin, bandoneón (like an accordion but with only buttons, no keys), a singer and male and female dancers. The male dancer is the foremost tango dancer in the world. Much toe flicking and haughtyness. They did a variety of material interspersing instrumental numbers with dance numbers and song numbers. Wonderful vocalist with a deep, rich baritone. During the last number the power went out!! It was a song known by the audience and as the band faltered, the audience picked up the song, the band revived acoustically, people got out their cell phones with the little lights and lit up the stage and the whole place carried on sans electricity.... but it was electric!!! A wonderful ending to a wonderful week.

Today was a 12 hr day on the buses. I´m in Xilitla (Heeleetla), high in the Sierra Gorda. A spectacular bus ride through these wild mountains beginning with dry, barren landscape and ending with lush, humid jungle-clad mountains. Arrived in the dark so will save a description of the town for tomorrow.

Time for bed. Buenas noches.

SMA revisited

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Feb 13/09: It just gets better and better. I´ve shed the initial difficulties and am having a fine time. Thoroughly enjoying my co-residents at Casa Bertha.

Had a bit of a scare two days ago. When I approached Jorge to extend my stay at the hotel through Saturday, he said that my room was unavailable after Thursday. That put a bit of a damper on my spirits. Homeless!! I had tentatively planned to visit San Miguel de Allende Thursday but without a place to return to I was thrown into a quadary. Inquired about places to say in SMA but there were no vancancies. So I called my friend, JoAnna, in SMA and was about to tell her that my plans were up in the air when Jorge walked by and told me my room was available. Hooray!! Spirits soared and I confirmed my visit with JoAnna.

I met JoAnna 6 years ago in SMA at the B&B where we were staying. She never left. Absolutely loves living there and I´ve visited her a couple of times in subsequent years. So I caught the early bus yesterday along with Terry and Diane who were also visiting SMA. Met up with JoAnna in the Jardin there and we caught up on each other´s lives, then went for pozole at a place where we´d eaten pozole in years past. (Pozole is a Mexican soup made with chicken stock, garbanzo beans and some veggies and whatever sort of meat you´d like served with toppings of tostadas, lettuce, onion, lime, chile, sour cream. Very tasty.) Then we walked several blocks to a huge art mall; a complex of galleries and studios where artists work and display their work. Some good, some bad and everything in between. Some excellent abstract art. Then we trekked back to town and I satisfied another food fantasy/memory and ate chlies en nogada which I´d eaten in SMA before and loved. This time they weren´t great. They`re poblano peppers with a ground beef stuffing and a cream sauce with walnuts and pomegranite seeds to garnish.

After dinner I wended my way back to the bus station and home to GTO. Passing through the main plaza on my way back to the hotel, I noticed that groups of musicians were assembling to do the callejoneadas. These are groups of professional musicians and singers wearing traditional costumes who have adopted what was a Spanish custom of gathering a crowd of spectators and wandering through town singing and playing and drinking wine, encouraging audience participationç. They were in no hurry to commence the performance last night and I waited for an hour before a group started up. And, frankly, it was a bit anticlimatic.

It was nice to arrive back at the hotel where I got engaged in a conversation with Susan before bed.

The cast of Casa Bertha

Feb 10/09: Oswald Haase a.k.a. Oz - a retired German physics professor originally from Berlin - no fixed address - stayes with friends on a farm in Pennsylvania, with a former student in his apt on 5th ave NY, with friends in Hamburg, and in Hawaii - instead of spending money on a home he prefers to bounce around the globe - taught for some years in China and created a physics dept at a small university in New Jersey - a fascinating gentleman.



Terry and Diana - a retired couple from Courtenay, BC, pretty much neighbors of mine - a mining engineer orignially from England, moved to Nicaragua many years ago for his work - lived there for many years, then moved to Stuart, BC, close the the Alaskan panhandle - retired to Courtenay - avid hikers and sea canoe paddlers - have hiked and paddled extensively around Vancouver Is and environs - she´s a retired nurse - they spend several months every winter in Mexico



Gord - lives between Vancouver and Regina- is an information systems specialist specializing in coaching techniques for tennis coaches among other rather arcane vocational niches; for instance, hired to edit Turkey´s written application for admission to the EU - playes modern classical piano and, of course, tennis - also a kayaker.



Chris - lives in Denver, on the rare occasions he alights - don´t know a lot about him but a lovely man to talk with - shared two delightful evenings on the rooftop drinking wine and pursuing a multitude of conversational tangents from astronomy to wine to mesoamerican history and cultures.



Susan - from Ohio - a down-home mom type whose husband and grown children don´t like to travel so she goes alone - lovely, sweet woman - Learned that she was previously married to a man who was confined to a wheelchair and perished when their house burned down - teaches English to children of Mexican families.



Lyle - bartender from Indiana who saved up and has been travelling for a year and a half - robbed of his backpack in Peru with all of his belongings, photos, journals - then robbed at gunpoint in Batopilas in the Copper Canyon - and still he perseveres (inspiration for me).



Tina- from Seattle (Issaquah) - retired teacher

Alen Macrae and Sandra Wright- a couple from Taos, NM - he´s a contractor with no buildings to build due to the economic downturn - they´re relocating to GTO, moving into their apt today, in fact - he writes; published a book about adobe architecture, ¨Mud, Space and Spirit¨.

Julie - from Bremen, Germany - teaches English there - in GTO to learn Spanish -

Mike - a semi-retired lawyer from Maine

Rebecca - a Social Worker from Toronto with a lovely and often used smile

All of the above except Oz are in Spanish school. Lots of people come to GTO to learn Spanish.

Julie - from Bremen, Germany where she teaches English - here to learn Spanish and travel around

Grateful in Guanajuato

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Feb 8: Lovely to be here in GTO as it´s shortened to in Mexico. A long day of travel again to get here. Caught a collectivo cab early in the morning from Malinalco to Tenancingo, about 13km west. From there caught another collectiveo cab to Toluca, a city of half a million 64km west of Mexico City and quite high, 2660m, a quite clean and prosperous city but with foul air. Caught a very nice first class bus from there to Leon, several hours northwest but that bus broke down in Queretaro, halfway, and I was forced to board a much less nice, crowded bus for the rest of the journey to Leon. Arrived Leon with just minutes to spare to catch the bus to GTO. Arrived GTO around 4:30, hopped on a city bus and was downtown in minutes. Then the challenge of finding Casa Bertha in the maze of alleys (callejones) that twist and turn and wind up and down steep hills. GTO is in the bottom of a steep valley, the centro at the bottom and the residential areas climb up the slopes. I´d been here before and stayed at Casa Bertha but nonetheless got completely disoriented. Eventually, with the help of some friendly locals and the Lonely Planet, I found the place. It was full and my room wasn´t the best, rather grungy and windowless but I figured I could put up with it for one night and see about a change next day. One of the best features of the Casa Bertha is the rooftop terrace with common kitchen that overlooks the city from high above. I immediately headed up there and encounterd a whole crowd of very friendly retired gringos from all over north America including Vancouver Island (Courtenay). Chatted with them for a while then headed off to stretch my legs. Walked up to the big statue of Pipila, a notable figure from Mexico´s history. During the first Mexican revolution, GTO was the first city that the revolutionaries captured and they had the Spanish besieged in what´s called the Alhóndiga, a former granery, that proved impregnable. So a common soldier, Pipila was his nickname, hoisted a big paving stone on his back as a shield, grabbed a torch and was thus able to approach the Alhondiga and set in on fire enabling the rebel forces to take it. Later the Spanish sent forces from Mexico City, defeated the insurrectionists, decapitated the leaders (Father Hidalgo and Allende) and suspended their heads in cages from hooks on corners or the building. In any case, the view from that statue is beautiful and the cathedrals and big university were all lit up, the nearly full moon hovering just over the mountains. On the way back to the hotel, I picked up a bottle of wine and sat up on the roof and drank wine and chatted with Chris from Denver, a very interesting and worldly man full of knowledge and experiences.

Today I started slowly, didn´t get out of the hotel until around 10:00 and wandered around town. Revisited the Diego Rivera museum housed in the home where he was born and containing some of his early art and preliminary sketches for other works. Heard that the Alhondiga which now contains a museum and galleries was free to visit on Sundays but learned that doesn´t apply to foreigners and is quite expensive for us so passed on that in favour of the big public market where I bought some produce and browsed and took photos. Even ate a carnitas sandwich, or most of one anyway, something I´ve foregone previously but decided to try. It´s all the parts of a pig which has been rendered, chopped up and you get a pile of it inserted into a bun with some salsa. Now I can say I´ve had it and won´t repeat that. My stomach is rumbling as we speak.

Upon returning the Case Bertha I noted that a very nice room on the very top was empty so was able to move there and am so much happier with it.

An unrelated observation: car radios always accompany travel in collectivos and I noted that one hardly ever hears female vocalists. Curious..... but maybe not in this culture.

That´s it for today. Hasta mañana.

The road to Malinalco

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Feb 6: First, I want to apologize for focusing so much on the negative in previous entries. It wasn´t all like that. There were some kind and helpful people along the way and some beautiful sights. More than once I wished I had my camera with me on the airplane, (and if it had it wouldn´t have been stolen). Some beautiful views as we flew out of Albuquerque and leaving Mexico City, Popocatépetl and Iztaccihuatl, and Pico de Orizaba, Mexico`s tallest mt and 3rd talled in N America, were all stunning poking out of the clouds.

A beautiful sunny day here in Malinalco. What a cute little town this is. A long, complicated journey to get here.
Ironically enough, it seemed to be clearing in Xalapa as the bus rolled out of town. Quite a nice bus ride to Mexico City with views of Pico de Orizaba and La Malinche, 5th highest mt in Mexico. Arrived Mex City, jumped a cab for the another bus station, bought a bus ticket to what I thought was Malinalco there but it turned out to be to another town that sounded like Malinalco. Fortunately I found that out before I boarded the bus. I thought it was odd that I could buy a ticket as I´d heard that there were no buses to Malinalco. Got that straightened out, again a helpful mexican kid, and got a ticket for Chalma a cutsey town in a beautiful setting high in the mountains to the west of Mexico City, cliffs and crags hanging over the town. Caught a collectivo from there to Malinalco, found a nice cheap hotel with views over the town and settled in. This is a town of cobbled, winding streets, bouganvillias hanging over walls, jacarandas blooming, all sorts of flowers, more of those cliffs surrounding the town covered in lush growth though this a dry time of year.

Got up early this morning and went out to find a vantage point from which to view the sunrise. Followed a street to the edge of town and found a trail leading up the cliffs. Climbed as far as I could and watch the sun come up. This seems to be the time of day that the locals burn stuff and the air was full of smoke obscuring the view and bringing a tear to my eye, literally and figuratively. After breakfasting I went out to explore the Aztec, or more accurately, Mixtec, ruins up on a hill. On the way encountered Tom and Elizabeth from Ontario in their VW van who were camping their way through Mexico. Found the ruins and benefitted from my advanced age that got me in free. Once again, another fly in the ointment, they were reconstructing the roof on the main temple so my visit was punctuated my hammers and saws and workmen shouting. Nonetheless, it was a nice little site and the views over the town were wonderful. I´ll go back there later in the day. Sure is nice to have a camera. Hope I can hang on to it.

Later...... wandered around town and used up a whole gigabyte card taking photos. Gonna have to slow down or delete more. Lots of photogenic stuff. Walked my legs off. Decided to go back up to where I watched sunrise to watch the sunset. As I started up the trail I saw a guy lurking (or what could have been lurking) up there and decided to bag that idea. Might have been just fine but I´m a bit gunshy and opted for caution. So headed back to the ruins. On the way I encountered about 150 preadolescent school kids headed in the same direction, all decked out in their little uniforms making an incredible racket. Hoped they weren´t going to the same place. Hopes dashed, they descended on the place like Ghengis Khan hoardlings. However, they were well behaved and listened attentively to their guide. And the view was stunning, the light of the descending sun highlighting the rugged mountains and the nearly full moon rising. Stayed til closing time then made my way down and had a pretty good trout dinner, something this region is famed for.

Tomorrow I believe I´ll head for Guanajuato.



Adios for now.

More from Xalapa

Feb 3: Wonder if anybody actually reads this stuff. No comments to indicate either way. Whatever, it will be a trip account for me if nothing else. In case you're reading, here's more.

A strange day. Got a new camera. A newer version of the one that got away; one more megapixel is about the only difference. Twas a very protracted experience happening on Mexican time. Roy had offered to take me to Costco and other places to look. He said to call him at 11:00 and he'd be ready to go. Spent the morning wandering around. Went to the mercado where folks were just getting set up for the day; butchers hacking up huge piles of all sorts of dead animals, shoe stalls galore, seafood, gunny sacks of every conceiveable kind of dried peppers, big tubs of the local version of molé, fruit, veggies, cheese, clothes, etc.

Connected with Roy at his studio, got engaged in a drawn out conversation with a gringa, went to his place for him to shower; two hours later after he showered, checked his emails and had lunch we were ready to roll with his wife, Lourdes, in tow. Then stopped to pick up her mother. First stop Costco. No suitable cameras there but the wife and mother-in-law browsed and shopped for another hour. Then off to the big shopping mall. Found a camera like mine at Sears but way to expensive. The wife and MIL browsed for another hour. Then it was time for lunch. This was around 4:30. Turns out it was a birthday celebration for MIL's 88th. Then to the camera store where I found the camera I bought for not too bad of a deal. Got back to town about 7:00 wiped out but satisfied with my purchase.

The day was topped off nicely with a free concert at the Jalapeño Casino starting off with a choir of guitar playing men and women who were sensational followed by a all male choir also accompanying themselves on guitars who were also good.

That's all for today folks.

Fraught with peril

Feb 1: It´s been a most interesting trip. Flew uneventfully from Albuquerque to Dallas fully intending to gut out the overnight layover in the airport. Because of the length of the layover I could not check my luggage through so had all of it with me and was stuck in the ticketing area as the Mexicana Airlines counter wasn´t open. So there I was in the cavernous check-in area with hardly a soul around looking for a place to lay my body down for the night. Armrests prevented lying on the seats and the tile floor was unappealing. The Hyatt Hotel there looked mightly appealing though and the later it got the more appealing it looked. So I asked myself if this trip was intended to be tortuous or could I splurge on a room. Splurge I did. Very luxurious place and maybe a bit indulgent for a few hours of sleep. But at that point I didn´t regret it. Flew off the next morning for Mexico City to await my flight to Xalapa. Lots of customs and security: pockets emptied, but allowed to keep shoes on. Twas a 6 hour wait and while there I attempted calling Roy in Xalapa who has very nice little apts he rents cheaply. Finally reached his wife but he was out of town. Figured I´d reach him when I got to Xapapa. The time finally came for the flight and I went over to the counter to prepare for boarding but...flight cancelled!!! Was told I´d been booked on another airlines to Vera Curz. Where´s my luggage?!! Escorted through the airport to find my luggage; more customs and security. Got my pack, more security checks and press the button for red or green light; got the red light!!! Bags searched. Back to ticket counter for tickets for new flight. Didn´t check my pack so it got flagged at security as it had my little knife in it. Didn´t want to give up the knife and, of course, I had to check my bag anyway. So back through security, check pack, flight about to leave, back through security, plane about to board but, whew, got on. Ok, we´re off. Arrived Vera Cruz and happily there was mini-van from the airport to Xalapa. Balmy and warm in Xalapa. Ahhh. Felt good. Tried calling Roy from the bus station in Xalapa. No Roy. Took a cab into town and stayed, for the first time in my life, in a youth hostel. Not a bad place, a bit spartan but friendly people. Still no Roy.

Beautiful day dawned and I thought I´d go up on the roof to take a few pictures. Went into my pack to get my camera out and......NO CAMERA!!! It had been taken right out of the case along with the charger somewhere enroute. You can´t imagine my upset. Sat stunned for some time. What to do? Perhaps Roy can help as he is a professional photographer. Strolled around town amidst the throngs that typically fill Mexican sidewalks. Finally reached Roy. What a relief. Now at least I´d have a nice comfy place to stay with kitchen and I'd get another camera but Roy was full up!! He said to come over and he'd see what he could do. Met him at his studio but he didn't have any options for me but offered to take me camera shopping later. In the mean time he had a shoot and I went off with some expat friends of his for coffee. Dennis and Ellen were from somewhere in the States and had moved to Xalapa a couple of years ago after retiring. He'd been a chimney sweep. They moved to Mexico convinced that the world economy is going to completely tank. Sold everything, bought gold and silver and two and half years worth of food. They'd never been to Mexico prior to moving and arbitrarily chosen Xalapa. The conversation over coffee revolved around impending economic disaster. Did wonders for my spirits and I was glad to see the last of them. Met up with Roy again and before leaving to go camera shopping we had a bite to eat at his place and time dragged on and then it was decided we'd go the next day (today).

So here it is today, Jan 3, the weather has turned. It's cool and cloudy with spatters of rain. My mood is not good. I'm wrestling with a desire to pull the plug on this trip and fly home. Are these obstacles that keep arising telling me that persevering would be foolhardy? Or are they just hurdles to clear and move on? I just don't know. I'm not the first person to have a camera stolen nor is it the first camera I've had stolen and people encounter thses sorts of challenges often when traveling.

All shall be revealed in the fullness of time.

Cameras do not bounce

I forgot to mention a discovery I made while observing the sandhill cranes: Sony cameras do not bounce. And, even more startling, they still work after not bouncing on the sidewalk!! Yes, while futzing around getting my hood up to block the chill wind, I caught the strap of my camera sending it tumbling to the sidewalk. Heart in mouth I picked it up, not daring to breathe and certainly not expecting it to still work but, lo! it did! A big WHEW!!

Blue skies of Albuquerque

Fifteen hours on the train from LA to Albuquerque was much easier, most of those hours spent sleeping. Train left LA at around 7:00 so there wasn't much to see until morning. A very different sort of seat mate this time, a self proclaimed semi-psychotic Vietnam vet who carried on a steady monologue detailing his mental illness resulting from his duty in Vietnam after the conflict officially ended looking for POW camps, shooting the teenage Vietnamese kids who were left to guard the camps, watching his comrades die in various ways, etc. He professed difficulty in understanding why he was mentally troubled. Now he teaches kindergarten in Gallup, NM!!!??? I hoped I'd survive the night by his side and was glad to awaken unscathed in the morning. Those sleeping pills the psychiatrists give him so that he can sleep at all and not commit acts of violence that he can't remember did their job, thankfully.

Watched the sunrise over the desert from the observation car glad to be back in the southwest. Got in to Albuquerque around noon and took the city bus to my cousin's place. Despite a woefully inadequate bus system, I like Albuquerque a lot. Big deep blue sky, gnarly cottonwoods bare of foliage this time of year, nice crisp, cool, dry air. As I walked home yesterday afternoon from the store, the sunset illuminated Sandia Mt. turning it the watermelon colour it is named for.

Today, after a long time on the internet arranging travel (see below), I went for a long walk on the bicycle/foot path that parallels the Rio Grande, the warm sunshine causing me to shed layers and revel in the warmth. I went by the field where the Sandhill Cranes were hanging out as they do this time of year on their migratory journey. Big talkative birds busily foraging in the grass quite unafraid and very photogenic.

Travel plans have changed significantly. The Mexican consulate here no longer gives out tourist cards which you must have to enter Mexico, and getting one crossing the border by bus would be a huge rigmarole. So I'm flying to Xalapa (the capitol of Vera Cruz), originally my final destination. Despite the expense, this actually works out well giving me much more time to spend enjoying the stops along the way and less time on the bus.

More from Xalapa. Adios amigos!

In LA

Jan 27, I think: What a long train ride! Not sure I'll do that again. It was scenic for the first part along Puget Sound and the last part along the coast south of San Luis Obispo but the rest wasn't especially noteworthy. I get a kick out of Amtrak employees. My impression is that it's their train and you're riding by their good graces and you better behave. A pillow? Not time for pillows. You'll get one later. Overheard a guy with the temerity to ask for one and was told, "we already gave pillows out!" "But I just got on??!!" Grudgingly, with exasperation, "I'll see what I can do." Later, "where did my pillow go?" "We have to get this car cleaned up now." And so on. Definitely not like the airlines.

My seat mate, Elvis Rosales was from Honduras so I got to practice my Spanish. Wish my comprehension was better. Elvis invited me to his home in Honduras if I ever get down that way, assuming he returns there.

Got in to LA yesterday evening about 9:30. Glad to have my fleece on; it was cold! My cousin, Anita, came to pick me up and took me back to her home in Santa Monica; gave me food and she and her husband, Gary, and I chatted while her three teenage kids made sporadic appearances. Woke up to guess what? A nice day. Like always in LA; or mostly according to Gary. Went for a long walk on the beach. Saw some dolphins; at least I think that's what they were. Glorious, warm sunshine and endless beach. All sorts of LA types in attendance: skateboarders with surfboard under arm, gangbanger dudes, glamour folks, beautiful people and just regular folks.

Pretty soon I'll take the bus downtown to catch the train to Albuquerque.

Take care everyone. Sending my love.