first leg: 8 hours to san miguel, a colonial town in the heartland of mexico.
this was the longest driving leg of the trip, and went really quickly. san miguel was everything i imagined it would be. a town full of gringos and expats; delicious breakfast restaurants and colourful buildings. we slept late, went to bed early, downed a bottle of wine at each of our dinners and even witnessed an indigenous dancing celebration in the main square.
second leg: 30 minutes to hot springs outside of san miguel.
why has no one told us about this? there are warm pools surrounded by well-manicured gardens on the outskirts of san miguel. one of the hot pools even went into a cave. it felt like we were in a turkish bath. except no one was naked. if it wasn't for a thunderstorm we may have stayed all day.
third leg: pushing 4 hours to morelia in the state of michoacan, known for the monarch butterfly migration... which unfortunately have gone home for the summer.
the trip would have taken only 3 hours if we hadn't gotten stuck behind the slowest truck in the world. the roads were windy so the crawling truck was virtually unpassable! we definitely noticed the landscape becoming more lush and fresh. in fact, we stumbled upon our own enchanted broccoli forest on the side of the road! either there has been an unprecedented boom in broccoli production OR a broccoli truck tipped over. people were literally running away with broccoli spilling out of their arms. odd. morelia itself is the kind of city that looks nicer at night. the cathedral was gorgeous when all lit up, but the city itself didn't bowl me over with its beauty. however, i was won over when a lady at the corner store opened our wine bottle for us. clearly the key to my heart is evident.
fourth leg: an hour or so to the small town of patzcuaro.
a chilly town that felt more like being in northern ontario then in mexico. very busy and lively during the day of the dead celebrations, patzcuaro became a mandatory rest stop for us on our amazing race. it was cold and rainy most of the time, so we found comfort in cable television and the greatest steak dinner i have ever eaten. we were the only customers in a beautiful grand restaurant, with overly attentive service (not that i'm actually complaining... they were willing to run down the street to get us the bottle of wine we wanted!) the steak dinner was called "the three musketeers", and it was three beef medallions in different sauce: mustard, roquefort and pepper. thank god i'm not a vegetarian.
fifth leg: 30 minute boat ride to isla janitzio, a small island with no roads or cars, famous for its day of the dead celebrations.
on the way out of the island we got to witness the famous fishermen of the island fishing with their huge butterfly nets. i have a feeling it is more for show now, as the lake is dark as mud... and the fishermen actually asked for tips after showing us how they fish. hmm. fishy. all roads on the smelly, bug infested island (i blame the fish again) lead to the highest point, where there is a huge statue of one of the mexican heros of independence. for a mere 6 pesos you can climb to the top of the statue via a winding staircase which may or may not have caused a few panic attacks over the years. when you get to the very top you can look out of peep holes from the statue's raised fist at the beautiful views before figuring out how you are going to get yourself down again. for some reason these types of things have become very scary as an adult.
sixth leg: back from the island. and an hour long car ride to the city of uruapan, the city of avocados!
avocados are supposed to be big business in uruapan. so our first mission was to eat some. we found a great coffee shop and settled down with our books and ordered one order for each of us! within a few minutes, our mouths were on fire... because we seem to have found the only guacamole served with diced hot peppers. hot! in this town we also witnessed the strangest occurrence yet... an elephant being driven down the street. we couldn't really believe it. it turned out a circus was arriving in town. hmm. maybe now was a good time to leave.
seventh leg: 30 minutes (and a few surprise speedbumps) to the small town of angahuan.
to fully divulge our experience in angahuan... read on:
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Walking wounded.
If you were to walk past Jen and I today on the street today, you would think that we were a) 90 years old or b) recovering from a massive surgery. We are hobbling around, every step is painful – we look absolutely ridiculous. This must be what it feels like to age. Every part of our body aches from our heels to our backs.
No, we didn’t run a triathlon.
No, we didn’t walk the Appalachian Trial.
We went horseback riding.
Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But seriously. We got a massive pounding from riding a horse! I have gained a whole new respect for cowboys and cowgirls.
Yesterday we drove out to a small town named Angahuan, a small indigenous Purepechan community near a volcano. In 1943, a local farmer witnessed the ground shaking and spurting steam. He tried to cover the earth, but eventually realized he needed to flee. A volcano was literally growing out of his cornfield. Within a year, it had raised 410 metres above the surrounding land and its lava had covered two surrounding villages. You can still see the steeple of one of the village churches protruding out of the field of lava.
The entire day trip takes 6 or 7 hours, including a hike up to the top of the dead volcano. Local horse riders lead you out on horseback from the village through ash-filled fields to the volcano, probably about a 2 and a half hour trip. Except these are not “guides” as you might traditionally expect. Ours happened to be a 14 year old boy named Tomas. And for some reason, he decided it was a good idea to have the horses trot and gallop a good chunk of the way. The first time that we began to gallop, I felt incredible! I couldn't believe it! I was a true Mexican Cabellera! And then it started to hurt. A lot. So much that I felt like my legs were being ripped off from my body. My bum was getting the pounding of a lifetime. My hands were paralyzed from hanging on for dear life. My horse felt it necessary to bite Jen's horse... and Jen. Tomas either loved watching us panic, or did not understand our Spanish... because he kept encouraging the horses to run. By the end, I thought my legs might never leave the squatting position. And that was only half of the marathon day trip.
When we arrived at the volcano (which was incredibly cool... and I don't want to take away from that fact... but this is a much better story), we could barely get off of our horses, let alone hike to the top. So we took the 'easy' route, which Tomas so kindly ran ahead to show us. I don't think he was out of breath once. Jen and I negotiated the loose lava rocks and did eventually make it to the top, although I could not actually feel my legs when we got there. The view was spectacular, and there was steam rising... a truly magical experience. And then the reward: we got to ski/skate/jump down a steep part of the volcano that is padded with sand-like ash. It was the best theme park ride I've ever been on. And then we remembered the hard and brutal truth: we had to get on those horses again. My knees buckled at the sight of them. Somehow I managed to get on, but I knew my body would not sustain two more hours of pounding. We broke the news to Tomas, and the horses slowly took most of the way back... until they got minds of their own and decided to pick up the pace. I don't think horses understand humans screaming, "STOP! OWWW! STOP!". Oh, it hurts to relive the pain. The next stop was at the old church that is the only remaining part of the two towns that were buried by the volcano when it erupted. Sticking out from a sea of lava, you can climb over the lava rocks to the steeple and the remains of the church. And then, it was back on the saddle again. But this time, it was pouring rain. At least the rain helped me to forget how much my bum was hurting.
Somehow we finished the expedition and got our broken bodies back to the hotel. Neither of us could move, as we were bruised, banged and scraped. Starting out the trip thinking that maybe I could be a real horse woman, I now realized that being a cowgirl is tough business... and maybe something that I should leave to someone else. And next time you go horseback riding, start slow, don't commit to the whole day. It is not as romantic as it might seem. A word from the wise.
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eighth leg: a painful 4 hour car ride to the coast.
zihua is an adorable little fishing town in a sheltered bay with beautiful beaches and cute hotels and bungalows. our bodies were happy to see the beach! with the help of our lonely planet guide, we found a little bungalow overlooking the beach with a huge outdoor kitchenette and patio with lounge chairs and hammocks. we have read a few books, eaten some fresh seafood and nursed our aching bodies back to health. we'll definitely be back next year. the ocean completes us. (except for the third degree burns on jen that she got from under the umbrella. explain that??)
and so it is. our road trip 2008 has come to an end. jen and i have had an amazing time. her brother is arriving this evening, and they are continuing the adventure for another couple of weeks. i, however, am getting on an overnight bus to mexico city in a few hours and i fly back out to canada tomorrow. just in time for canada day! as much as i adore and love mexico and all its quirky wonders, i am also eager to have some family, friends and canadiana back in my life.
jen: thanks for a trip similar to the highest quality romaine. i'll never eat iceberg again. xx
