From My Notebook in 1975: To Mexico

I left you last week in Guatemala on my way north. Already in Gringo country – more and more influenced by American tourists and commerce, and I became unreasonably upset that the word “American” now only means the USA. After all I’ve been in America for almost a year. And yet I’m beginning to long for the comforts that I imagine waiting for me when I get there.

To Mexico

May 24:

Rode on towards frontier, where weather improved marvelously. Now very enjoyable. Saw large, cleared space round a pylon and camped in a corner of it. Boy gave me wood for fire – pine saplings – I collected kindling. Cooked onion and tomato and grilled chorizos. Very good. Then rain began. Moved into tent. Boy said many Gringos camped here.

Next day girl came to visit. Would I sell her my (newly purchased) plastic? No. Then later gave her a rather tattered piece.

Mexican girls in 1975

Rode to frontier through a narrow mountain pass, very steep defile, impressive, and expressive of history. Know nothing of its history but can sense the drama of the pass.

Weather now beautiful.

Frontier crossing fairly straightforward but for the Mexican agricultural inspector who confiscated my onions and made me eat my orange (lousy!)

His assistant was burning a heap of vegetables with a flame thrower. I asked him if he knew how to cook. He let out a single burst if mirth, then closed up again. They also sprayed my bike, but not my boots though I offered them.

Had I known the geography I would have stayed near there but rode on into the mountains to find it getting very cold and wet. San Cristobal de las Casas, which would have been a natural place to stop, was wet and inhospitable.

I rode past, reluctantly, but soon was forced to stop by a terrible downpour.

Took shelter in a small café where some boys were waiting to play football. There were two jukeboxes and a travelling repair man with a wonderful switch to his hips. His type also drives buses. (I cannot think what I meant by that!).

The market at Tuxtla Gutiérrez

At last rain stopped and I drove on to Tuxtla to find a hotel. Hotel Jardin, a rabbit warren round a courtyard in disrepair. 30 pesos.

Old German man in his wooden, screened reception box. Walked round town. Seemed quite prosperous. Ate surprisingly well at Los Arcos.. Best shrimp since Rio and good fish. But prices are beginning their inexorable climb up.

From Tuxtla there is still much mountainous country. I still have the option of turning off to Vera Cruz and consider doing so but it seems to me that if there is rain it will be heaviest on the Caribbean side.

The road fortunately circumnavigates most of the storms (what memories from Africa that revives).

And then, suddenly, I’m at the top of an escarpment looking down on perfectly flat land far below. I can see the road straight as an arrow pushing on to Tehuantepec.

Here it is very hot and sunny. I stop to drink and buy food in the market, determined to sleep out again. The Indians here (according to the South American Handbook)) are a matriarchal society and look it. In the market they are very shrewd and catch-peso. An egg here is 1.20 and over there 0.75.

On I go, running out of petrol and coasting to the petrol station. The tank only takes 12 litres.

A little way along, up the hill a path leads off among bushes to place for a tent. All is very peaceful and pleasant. The stars are out, but for some reason I am nervous about people. I hear a strange “Pssst” sound from my bed and struggle into trousers to see who’s lurking. The sound continues but moves too quickly to be of human origin. Must be an insect – the Psst bug. Back to bed, still unsure, and now buses and lorries are making a terrific din. Distant flashes of lightning and then, quite suddenly, enveloped by a powerful storm, wind threatens to blow the tent away and I cling to the tent poles for dear life as lightning crashes down round me. Then just as suddenly all is peace and quiet again. Fall asleep at last.

Next day is fine. It’s not far to Oaxaca and I arrive at lunchtime.

And I found the picture with the goggles, but I’m not wearing them, for good reason probably.