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That's OK, we'll just have to look out for our own topes, like the ones I happened upon today.
Even though they were on a side street that dead ends in a parking lot for a hiking trail, so not quite the same as ones on a main road, but seeing them made me think of your posts ;)
My neighbors recently passed around a petition to have two of them installed on the street where I live. There's no escape...
Looking forward to when you can pick this up.Quote:
Originally Posted by Rick Quinn
Mark
In Merry Ole England they refer to these as being a "SLEEPING POLICEMEN."Quote:
Originally Posted by BillyGr
Mark
They are also commonly referred to as "Speed Humps" (or Bumps) here in the UK. They're commonly used to try and reduce speed in built up residential areas and rural villages, that would be considered a 'cut through' by locals in an attempt to save time and avoid queues on the main routes, especially during morning and evening rush hours.Quote:
Originally Posted by Mark Sedenquist
Dave
Speed 'bumps' and speed 'humps' are two different animals. About a year ago I did a fair amount of research on this when my local homeowners association was proposing to spend $30,000 to rip up our existing humps (which had replaced previous bumps that the neighbors hated) and replace those humps with bumps!!! Bumps are high and very narrow, force you to slow to about 5 mph, and are meant for parking lots. Humps, sometimes referred to as 'tables', are lower and wider, force you to slow down to about 15 mph, and are meant for neighborhood streets.
AZBuck
I will be darned, learn something new here, just about every day. Armed with this new information -- I much prefer Humps!Quote:
Originally Posted by AZBuck
Mark
I paused this field report with the intention of resuming it in four to six weeks. That was all the way back in July, for pitiful sakes, so for those of you who were following along with me as I recounted the tale of my Mexican Road Trip, I must apologize for the crazy delay.
I was finally able to start writing again last month. I’m pleased to report that I’ve finished the report, and I’m ready to pick up where I left off in this Forum, with the third and final segment of my south-of-the-border adventures.
I’ll begin with a brief tribute: Mike Fritz, my shotgun rider on this month-long road trip, was a good friend of mine since high school, almost 60 years ago. Michael passed away in February, but his memory will live on: most of the “road” pictures in this report were his, and they lend a level of authenticity to this material that would have been impossible to achieve through my writing alone.
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Michael Fritz, 1949-2025
DAY 20: A World Class Drive!
From: PALENQUE
To: SAN CRISTOBAL DE LAS CASAS
More than half of the mountains in Mexico, from the top all the way to the bottom, from the deserts to the jungles and all the volcanoes in between, are nominally considered the Sierra Madre, which is really just a sub-set of one of the world’s greatest mountain ranges: the American Cordillera, the longitudinal hump in the landscape that runs from Alaska all the way to Southern Chile. Once you cross the border into Mexico, the great range becomes the “Mother Mountains” and there are three distinct sections:
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The Sierra Madre Occidental, which runs parallel to Mexico’s West Coast, from the border as far as the State of Michoacan.
The Sierra Madre Oriental, which parallels the Gulf Coast from the Rio Grande south as far as Puebla.
The Sierra Madre del Sur, which begins where the Sierra Madre Occidental leaves off, also parallel to the West Coast, extending from southern Michoacan to the Isthmus of Tehuantepec.
The Sierra Madre de Chiapas, which picks up where the Sierra Madre del Sur leaves off, is not typically considered a part of Mexico’s Sierra Madre system. This seperate range parallels the coast beginning in Oaxaca, then extends southward into Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras. (See map). There are actually two parts to the Sierra Madre de Chiapas: that coastal range, and, to the north, a mountainous plateau known as the Chiapas Highlands. MX 199, the route we planned to take, crosses the whole of the highlands from north to south. The distance from Palenque to San Cristobal de las Casas was only 132 miles, but it’s 132 miles of curvy mountain roads with switchbacks, steep grades, slow trucks, and villages chockablock with topes and bloqueos, unofficial road blocks. Google rated the drive at just over five hours, and it was likely to require at least that. Everything I read, and everything I heard, rated the drive as alternatively spectacular, dangerous, and fascinating, in seemingly equal measure.
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The Isthmus of Tehuantepec, where the distance from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean is just 137 miles. Map shows the relative location of MX 199 and the Chiapas Highlands.
We already had a bit of first-hand experience with the road. We’d driven it from Palenque to the Misol-Ha waterfall, and from there we kept going south, most of the way to Ocosingo, where we ran into a Zapatista road block that completely shut down the highway. They wouldn’t let us through, so we were forced to turn around, all the way back to Palenque, and save the rest of the drive for another day. The first week of our Road Trip, we encountered no less than four of those road blocks, known as bloqueos, all of them affecting that same road, MX 199. (See Day 4 of this Field Report). At that time, back in 2015, they were strictly a form of political protest. By disrupting commerce, the Zapatista political movement hoped to focus government attention on their grievances, some social in nature, others economic, and the rest environmental, things like putting a stop to illegal mining and logging, banning the cultivation and consumption of drugs, and prohibiting any intrusion by the national government into local affairs. The movement had a relatively sophisticated platform that did a great job of stopping traffic, but it didn’t seem to be helping all that much, when it came to improving the lives of the ordinary people in the region.
In the years that have passed since my own visit to Chiapas, the bloqueos have persisted, but according to reports from recent travelers, their function has changed. Rather than stopping traffic to attract attention, today’s road blocks are more like toll booths, collecting a fee ranging from 50 to 100 Pesos from each vehicle using the highway. This has become a significant source of revenue for these rural communities, and the authorities, reluctant to start another Zapatista uprising, simply look the other way, tacitly allowing it to continue. There are so many of these unofficial toll booths that drivers are understandably frustrated, and things have gotten ugly. In one widely reported incident back in 2022, a Russian tourist was dragged from her vehicle and attacked by an angry, stick-wielding mob when she refused to pay the “cuota,” (the toll). Since then, and even before then, most of the tourists travelling between Palenque and San Cristobal de Las Casas choose to take a lengthy detour through Villahermosa and Tuxtla Guttierez. That route adds almost 150 miles and and several extra hours to the journey, but it has the advantage of avoiding all those roadblocks. Personally, I’m not opposed to the notion of an informal “tax” on travelers that benefits the local community. Groups of townspeople politely collecting tolls is hardly cause for alarm, but when the crowds hanging around the roadblocks turn into mobs and the mood gets angry? That’s another thing altogether, and in the case of MX 199, that really is a shame. On Day 20, when Mike and I made our drive to San Cristobal, there was none of that going on, and we were able to savor one of the coolest stretches of highway on our whole amazing Mexican Road Trip.
Read on, and I’ll tell you all about the day we spent
CROSSING THE CHIAPAS HIGHLANDS
on MX 199
Next up: The roller coaster of a Road to Ocosingo!
P.S.: It feels good to be back!
Rick
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MX 199, from Palenque to San Cristobal de las Casas
Like most rural highways in Mexico, MX 199 is the only paved road for miles around. Property with frontage along the right of way is considered prime real estate, if only due to ease of access, so even when there’s no actual town nearby, it’s not uncommon to see houses (and tire repair shops) on any flat section of easement wide enough to accommodate them. Driving south from Palenque, we saw many of these isolated homesteads spread out along the road.
(Note that most of the images in this post are screen grabs harvested from Michael Fritz’s GoPro videos, shot through the windows as we drove)
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Isolated homes along the highway south of Palenque, near the Rio Tulia
This first half of the route, between Palenque and Ocosingo, was already familiar to us, after our aborted attempt to make this same drive two weeks earlier. We’d actually driven it twice, there and back again, and I remembered the road very well, one switchback after another, following one overloaded truck after another as they struggled up (and down) the steep grades. A closeup view of the map reveals just how many narrow curves have to be negotiated along the way. It’s a bit like trailing a long strand of spaghetti that was caught in a tornado, and flash-frozen!
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Driving mountain roads like MX 199 is my favorite kind of fun. After I finished college (half a century ago?!), I spent two years driving all over the northern Andes in a Dodge Powerwagon that I shipped to Colombia from the U.S., and those two years were some of the happiest times of my youth. The mountains of Chiapas were no match for the Colombian Andes, but with all the lush tropical vegetation, there were more than enough similarities to tickle my nostalgia bone. When the road was clear ahead of me, I sailed around those beautiful curves in a state of bliss.
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Scenes along the road, MX 199 between Palenque and Ocosingo: beautiful mountain curves, my favorite kind of fun!
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Passing those trucks became a minor obsession, but once I learned the rules of the road, that got a little easier. There’s no such thing as a passing lane, but if a truck in front of you moves over toward the right shoulder, and then puts on their left turn signal, they’re telling you that the road ahead is clear, and that it’s safe for you to pass.
Some stretches were more populated than others, with houses side-by-side, and on both sides of the road. Still not quite a town, but definitely a unique community with its own sense of identity. In most parts of Mexico, we saw welcoming smiles from the people we passed in rural areas. In the Chiapas Highlands, we saw resentment. They were, for the most part, too polite to say it, but what they were all thinking was “Yanqui go home!”
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The famous Pan American Highway passes through San Cristobal de Las Casas on the way to Guatemala, but there aren’t all that many travelers attempting that route these days. There’s an ongoing problem with criminal gangs in some parts of Central America, so people who might otherwise have done that trip are mostly staying away.
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The vehicle in this photo is an exception. They’re engaged in a “Pan American Expedition” (according to a sign stenciled on the side of their rig), and they’ve found a unique solution to the worrisome crime problem: their camper is a converted armored car, complete with gun ports!
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Approaching Ocosingo, the largest town along the route and the scene of frequent problems with the Zapatistas, we ran into the first military road block we’d seen along this road. The soldiers were polite, if curious, wanting to know where we were from, and where we were going.
Next up: Ocosingo, and on to Oxchuc, heartland of the Zapatistas
OCOSINGOThere was quite a lot happening in Ocosingo, the halfway point of this day’s drive. The town was bigger than I expected, with a population of 40,000 and many businesses. Ocosingo is the access point to Tonina, an important Mayan ruin, but, sadly, we just didn’t have time for it.
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We noticed an unusual stone building: the Hotel Hacienda La Ilusion (The House of Illusion). Not sure how nice it was, as hotels go, but I was intrigued by the name!
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We passed a group of children walking home from school; the young gentleman in the purple shirt shouted an enthusiastic greeting consisting of a single word: “PUTO!” (Loose translation: F**ker!)
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This young lady didn’t like us much, either, but her approach was far more pragmatic. She had a thin rope stretched across the road, with a red flag attached to insure that we’d see it. We stopped, and she demanded 20 Pesos to let us pass. I offered 10 Pesos, which she grumpily accepted.
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After Ocosingo, the terrain was a bit less rumpled, leaving more space for people. We passed through a series of small towns, including one that had a shrine emblazoned with the following: “APARECIO LA VIRGEN A LAS 8:00 DE LA MANANA EL DIA 12 DE DICIEMBRE DEL (2008).” Meaning that the Virgin Mary appeared in this very spot at 8:00 in the morning on December 12, 2008. That’s pretty darned specific!
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A grocery store/cafe, painted in rainbow colors and festooned with slogans inspired by the Zapatistas.
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MX 199 from Ocosingo to San Cristobal de las Casas
The Zapatista Army of National Liberation (ELZN), has been in business for three decades, since 1994, and these towns and villages in the Chiapas Highlands are the heartland of that movement. At one time, the Zapatistas took over the local government in Ocosingo, Oxchuc, and even in San Cristobal de las Casas. They are nowhere nearly as active currently, but their influence, and their core philosophy of “Here, the People Rule, and the Government Obeys,” still predominates in this fiercely independent region.
OXCHUC
Oxchuc was another good-sized town, about halfway between Ocosingo and San Cristobal. That place was Zapatista Central, and the scene of many protests and other incidents, including the previously mentioned attack on the Russian tourist who refused to pay the toll at their roadblock. When Mike and I passed through Oxchuc, there weren’t any roadblocks (not even the little ones, with ropes and strings), so we didn’t have any negative encounters.
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Three wheeled truck with a Ferrari decal and a bullet hole in the back window
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Surly dude in Oxchuc, crossing his arms to hide his holster
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A pack of camionetas (small trucks) leaving Oxchuc
We did get a few surly glares. There was one dude in particular who appeared to be wearing a shoulder holster, but when he saw us driving by, he quickly crossed his arms to conceal it. Security guard? No uniform, so not likely. Mike and I speculated that he might be a cartel enforcer, supervising the loading or unloading of some sort of contraband. The downtown area in general was surprisingly congested; down every side street there were camionetas (little trucks) loading and unloading. Some carried cargo, others carried passengers, protected from the wind and rain by colorful canvas shells that formed a roof over the truck bed, and extended forward to provide additional protected cargo space above the cab. These trucks were clearly the vehicle of choice in the Chiapas Highlands, and we saw them everywhere along the road, sometimes traveling in packs.
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Arco de Bienvenida, the Arch of Welcome, Oxchuc, Chiapas
On the way out of town, we passed under the “Arco de Bienvenida,” the Welcome Arch, Oxchuc’s most recognizable landmark, and a convenient chokepoint for blocking traffic, any time the need arises (or whenever the mood strikes). There is spray-painted graffiti on the wall of the arch trumpeting the Zapatista credo: “El poder no esta en el gobierno, el poder esta en el pueblo.” Translation: “The power is not in the government, the power is in the people.”
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Up to this point in the drive we had good weather, but these were mountains, after all, and in the mountains, the weather is always subject to change. Clouds that had been building along the western horizon moved overhead and turned dark. We were finally getting close to our destination when the first fat drops hit our windshield.
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San Cristobal de las Casas is a mountain town, sitting at an altitude of more than 7200 feet. Even at tropical latitudes, that much elevation equates to cool weather in October, which was also the tail end of an active rainy season. Our first view of “the most magical of the Pueblos Magicos,” (as described by former Mexican President Felipe Calderon) came through a veil of frigid drizzle, to the beat of rapidly flapping windshield wipers.
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Driving in to San Cristobal de las Casas through cold, drizzling rain
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Next up: San Cristobal de las Casas: The most magical of Mexico’s Magical Cities
SAN CRISTOBAL DE LAS CASAS
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We entered the maze of narrow, mostly one-way streets, with rain falling steadily, and no clue where we were, or where we were going. I’d reserved us a hotel room through Expedia.Mx, a place called the Hotel Hacienda Don Juan. It sounded terrific on the website, but it was NOT in the center of town with the rest of the hotels, so finding it proved quite a challenge. We programmed the address into Mike’s phone and started following the turn-by-turn instructions. If we’d used the GPS from the beginning, it would have been easy, but starting where we did, Google had us driving down narrow alleys and over tiny one-way bridges intended for horse carts and pedestrians. I assumed the GPS had malfunctioned, because there was no way in the world the route we’d just followed was going to lead us anywhere but lost. We popped out of another alley and onto a main street, and, much to my surprise, there it was!
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The grounds of the hotel were surrounded by a wall, so all you could see from the street was a long cobblestone drive through a tunnel of trees, leading back to a lushly landscaped courtyard. Still not quite believing that this was really the right spot, we drove in, and checked in, to what was probably the coolest hotel of our whole trip.
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We didn’t have a lot of time in San Cristobal de las Casas. We arrived in late afternoon, and we were going to have to leave first thing the next morning. Our whole visit was compressed into a single quite wonderful evening, wandering the cobblestone streets between storefronts of buildings that were hundreds of years old. Many were restored and newly painted, mostly earth tones, rather than the muted pastels we’d so admired in Campeche. The local folk were mostly indigenous, with roots in this region going back countless generations, but it’s important to note that most of the people we saw on the street that night didn’t appear to be locals. They were visitors, just like us, most of them Chilangos, a disparaging term for people from the D.F. (Mexico City). There were college kids in jeans and jackets, on holiday from their studies, as well as backpacker types from Europe and Asia, all checking out the scene. Mexican President Felipe Calderon declared San Cristobal de las Casas to be “Lo mas Magico de los Pueblos Magicos!” (“The most Magical of the Magical Towns!”) That’s quite a distinctive honor, when you consider the fact that there are no less than 177 cities and towns in Mexico that have earned the designation of Pueblo Magico, an honor bestowed by the Mexican Government, for the purpose of preserving cultural heritage–and promoting tourism.
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An evening spent in one of Mexico’s Colonial Cities always seems to include some sort of celebration in the main plaza. In San Cristobal de las Casas, they put on a concert, featuring a local orchestra playing both classical and contemporary instrumentals. The conductor was–let’s just say he was enthusiastic, and his musicians, of varying skill levels, did their best to keep up with him. The night was crisp and cool, the crowd respectful, applauding in all the right places. Colored spotlights lit the stage, and photo-luminescent plastic necklaces lit the faces in the audience with a ghostly blue glow.
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Like every Spanish Colonial City in Mexico, San Cristobal de las Casas has a centuries-old cathedral that fronts on the main plaza, in this case, the Cathedral of San Cristobal Martir. Construction started in 1528, making it one of the oldest churches in Mexico. There’s a simple elegance to the building’s facade, painted pale yellow (and in need of a fresh coat)!
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Mike was constantly shooting video with his GoPro camera, so I made a project out of reviewing those clips and capturing screen shots of anything interesting. The resulting images are a little blurry, and often at strange angles, but they’re fun to see. Here are a few from our evening in San Cristobal de las Casas:
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San Cristobal de las Casas in 1971
Original Photographs by Carl Duisberg
My good friend Carl Duisberg has been a world traveler almost as long as I’ve known him, and I’ve known him since we were both kids in school. I recently helped Carl resurrect two dozen rolls of black and white film from some of his early travels, negatives that had been packed away for half a century and essentially forgotten. No prints were made when the film was processed, all those years ago, so when I scanned and edited the images, I brought wonderful photos to life that had never been seen before.
One of those rolls of film was shot in San Cristobal de las Casas, more than fifty years ago, and Carl has graciously agreed to share them here. Viewing these old photos, it’s apparent how much has changed in what was, at that time, a primarily indigenous community. In 1971, the modern world has barely intruded on this charming Colonial City in the mountains of Chiapas.
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All in all, we sincerely enjoyed our brief visit to San Cristobal de las Casas. During my years in South America (back in the early 1970’s) I spent quite a lot of time in cities and towns surrounded by tropical mountains much like these, with cool climate, predominantly Indian populations, and Spanish Colonial buildings. Walking those streets felt like deja vu, even though I knew perfectly well I’d never been there before. It was the atmosphere, and the chilly evening, and the scenery, all of it together stirring fond memories dating back many decades.
Tomorrow, we’d push it a bit, as far as Oaxaca, and the next day to Puebla, or possibly Queretaro. From there, it was a short drive to San Miguel de Allende for a three day fiesta focused on the Dia de Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. That was going to be the icing on the cake of our Mexican Road Trip. But first we had to get there, and it’s a long danged drive from San Cristobal de las Casas to San Miguel de Allende!
Next up: Day 21: San Cristobal to Tuxtla Guttierez
Day 21! We’d been on the road in Mexico for three very full weeks, and for most of that time, we had no fixed itinerary, and no set schedule. We never planned more than a day or two ahead, so the route that we were following evolved as we drove along. I prefer that style of travel, personally, because it affords maximum flexibility, but now that we were closing in on the last phase of our road trip, all that flexibility went right out the window. We wanted to experience Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead celebration, and we’d concluded that the best place for us to do that would be in San Miguel de Allende, the charming Pueblo Magico and UNESCO World Heritage site, five hours north of Mexico City. We’d passed through there far too briefly on our drive south, and we’d vowed to return for a proper visit on our way back north. The three day fiesta was going to be our last hurrah before our final push back to the border, the cherry on the top of our Mexican Road Trip, and timing was suddenly critical. It was going to take us two full days of driving, just to get there in time for the start of the holiday. We’d spend three days and nights in San Miguel, and that would leave us exactly two days for the drive to the border and on to Austin, where we’d be arriving just in time for Mike to catch his flight back home. It was all perfectly doable, and perfectly timed, but there was ZERO room for any deviation or delay.
San Miguel de Allende is one of the most popular destinations in Mexico during the Day of the Dead holiday; we’d been warned about that, so we’d used Expedia.Mx to find a hotel with availability (the Hotel San Ramon), and we’d made our reservations weeks in advance. Knowing that we had our lodging squared away for the necessary dates was a good feeling, but this two-day drive we were facing wasn’t going to be like crossing Kansas on the Interstate. There were at least a bazillion things that could go wrong and prevent us from getting to San Miguel on schedule. We had just two days to cover most of the length of the country, much of that considerable distance over dangerously beautiful mountain roads…
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San Cristobal de las Casas to San Miguel de Allende
Today, we’d be driving as far as the city of Oaxaca, 380 miles of curves, switchbacks, and rolling hills that would require at least ten hours of our full attention, crossing the Sierra Madre de Chiapas, traversing the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, and entering the rugged, agave-studded landscape of the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca. If you’d like to know what that was like, read on!
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CROSSING THE SIERRA MADRE on MX 190
San Cristobal de las Casas is an old city that was laid out long before the advent of automobiles, so most of the roads are narrow one-way streets, and those few that are not tend to be jam-packed with more traffic than they can handle. In order to get out of town, we had to join that slow-and-go herd, dodging taxis, trucks, and pedestrians through the business district, until we finally spied a sign pointing toward the Toll Road to Tuxtla Guttierez.
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Scenes along the road leaving San Cristobal de las Casas
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Scenes along MX 190 from San Cristobal de las Casas to Tuxtla Guttierez
This portion of MX 190 is designated MX 190 D, because it is a “Cuota,” a toll road. What that means, in practical terms, is that there’s funding available for proper maintenance. Sometimes the cuotas are limited access divided highways, much like the modern expressways in the U.S. and Europe. More commonly, they are simply in better shape than the “libre,” (free) alternatives, with fewer potholes and topes (speed bumps), as well as less livestock, and fewer pedestrians, because they bypass the small towns.
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Construction zone: a portion of the highway is being resurfaced, using equipment and techniques that are all too familiar to drivers from the United States.
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There are few (if any) passing lanes on these mountain roads, so long lines of vehicles tend to stack up behind slow trucks and buses. An entitled idiot in a Suzuki SUV decided he just HAD to leapfrog his way to the front of the pack, so he whipped around me on the left, then cut back into my lane, forcing me to brake and veer onto the shoulder.
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The horn on my Jeep is linked to my car alarm, with dual trumpets and a very loud siren. I gave him an extended blast, followed by two or three more. That didn’t change anything–but it made me feel better, and it most definitely got his attention!
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Nobody likes being cut off; we stayed mad until the pendejo finally jumped every car in the line ahead of us and disappeared!
The area in between San Cristobal de las Casas and Tuxtla Guttierez is still the Chiapas Highlands, a mountainous plateau that forms the greater portion of the Sierra Madre de Chiapas. Tuxtla, with a population well in excess of half a million, is the capital of the State of Chiapas and the largest city in the region. The closer we got to it, the more level the terrain; since leaving San Cristobal, we’d dropped more than a mile in altitude, into a much warmer climate.
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TUXTLA GUTTIEREZ
Tuxtla (pronounced tooks-tlah) Guttierez is not much of a town for tourists. There are no Mayan ruins, no beaches, no picturesque colonial architecture. It’s a contemporary era Mexican city with nothing special to set it apart. There’s no significant local industry, so the largest employer is the Chiapas state government. The city ‘s main claim to fame is as a transportation center, the hub where all the regional highways and bus lines come together, and the location of the largest regional airport.
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Tuxtla Guttierez
For me and Michael, it was nothing but an unwelcome delay. We had no plans to stop for anything other than fuel; since there was no bypass route, we had to drive through the middle of town, and the traffic was tied in knots.
At one point we were stopped dead for at least ten minutes, nobody moving in any direction due to an accident in an intersection up ahead of us. Several of the sidewalk vendors took advantage of the situation to wander among the stalled vehicles, hawking snacks. I’d just recently recovered from a bout with the Turistas, so I wasn’t inclined to risk food from a questionable source, but Mike was hungry, so he called this guy over. Unfortunately, what he was selling wasn’t food. It was a unique local handicraft, a banana leaf, cleverly folded and trimmed to look like an oversized grasshopper.
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Mike decided it would make a great gift for his granddaughter, so he bought one. I can’t honestly remember if he got it home in one piece, but it was definitely an interesting souvenir!
Next up: Crossing the Isthmus of Tehuantepec
Everything was fairly calm, as far as police and military action, but we did see an occasional reminder of tension behind the scenes:
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A machine gun set up behind sandbags on the road out of town
After leaving Tuxtla Guttierez, we were back in the mountains once again.
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This was the point when we crossed the narrowest section of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, and entered the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca.
Prior to the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914, the shortest overland route between the oceans was right here; mule trains, and, in later years, a standard gauge railroad ferried cargo from the Atlantic to the Pacific and vice versa. They still transport some cargo along that route, which is billed as a faster, less costly alternative to the Panama Canal, but the most important thing moving along that corridor today is the steady breeze, created by the temperature differential between the two oceans. There is a gap between the Cordilleras of the Sierra Madre, the Chivela Pass, which concentrates and accelerates the flow of air between massive walls of rock, creating a source of power with enormous potential. The level ground on either side of the highway is perfect for wind turbines, so in 2009, the Oaxaca Wind Power Complex was built. There are hundreds of turbines, lined up in rows for more than 30 km, producing hundreds of megawatts of clean energy, offsetting vast amounts of CO2 and other pollutants.
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The Oaxaca Wind Power Complex is made up of hundreds of turbines installed alongside MX 190, beginning at about Kilometer 217 (as measured from Tuxtla Guttierez) and running west from there, all the way to Kilometer 250.
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TRAVELER’S ADVISORY (effective September, 2024):
The U.S. Department of State has issued a Level 4 (Do Not Travel) advisory for this region. The restrictions are mandatory for U.S. government employees, and strongly advised for all U.S. travelers, due to the high prevalence of violent crime, and recent increases in activity by the Mexican cartels.
• Isthmus region: U.S. government employees may not travel to the area of Oaxaca bounded by Federal Highway 185D to the west, Federal Highway 190 to the north, and the Oaxaca-Chiapas border to the east. This includes the cities of Juchitan de Zaragoza, Salina Cruz, and San Blas Atempa.
•
Please note that Highway 190 through the Isthmus region is considered the northern edge of the restricted area, but is not included in the restrictions. It’s still considered the safest route between Tuxtla Guttierez and Oaxaca, but if you’re driving this way, it’s important that you stay on Highway 190 until you’re past Tehuantepec. Don’t deviate toward the coast, and don’t stop along the way unless it’s absolutely necessary!
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Scenes along MX 190, West of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec
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The further we travelled into the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca, the more desert-like the terrain, complete with tall cactus such as this fine specimen.
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They don’t need flat land for growing agave. Any bare patch of dirt will do.
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A small mescal factory with a pulping mill powered by a cow in harness, walking in circles
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Scenes along the Road to Oaxaca
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Next up: Oaxaca!
OAXACA
Driving in from the east, the town comes up rather abruptly. One minute, you’re in the mountains, and the next minute, you’re navigating busy city streets.
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The City of Oaxaca, © Google Maps
Hotel Cantera Real
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When we finally arrived, it was already quite late in the afternoon. We’d booked a room through Expedia.Mx, the Mexican version of Expedia, and it’s a good thing we did, because the city was jam-packed, gearing up for their own very impressive Dia de los Muertos celebration, just two days away. Visitors were pouring in from all over, filling up every hotel, every bar, and every restaurant in a 30 mile radius. At just $52 for the night (at that time, back in 2015), the Cantera Real was a bargain, and considering the fact that we booked it blind, at the last minute, during the week of a major national holiday? It was far nicer than we had any right to expect. Located in an old colonial building with an interior courtyard, and an easy walk to the city’s main attractions. Our only regret? That we couldn’t stay longer!
I don’t know if it would still be the same good deal today, but at that time (2015), Expedia.Mx found us some excellent bargains, at rates that were actually cheaper than we could have gotten, walking in off the street and bargaining directly with the hotel. I’ve never been a big fan of booking services like Expedia. I always felt they increased costs by adding an extra layer to the booking process, charging extra fees to the traveler, while siphoning profit from hotels that are frequently operating on the narrowest of margins. My experience with Expedia.Mx changed my attitude, at least conditionally. The Mexican version of the service presented options that we never would have found on our own, and it helped the hotels by filling rooms that might otherwise have gone unsold. Of greatest interest to us were the independent properties that were not on the main drag, which tended to be not only cheaper, but far more interesting than the Marriotts and the Holiday Inns and the other business class chain hotels from the U.S. and Europe.
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Oaxaca City
Oaxaca was one of the places I most wanted to see on this road trip, and we were actually there, but it was already getting dark, and after two long driving days back to back, we were both exhausted. We had dinner, somewhere near the hotel, and afterwards, instead of going out on the town, we went back to the room. The city was worth a few days, at minimum, and all we had was a few lousy hours? Unacceptable! I added Oaxaca to the growing list of places I was going to have to come back to, because this was just a tease, even worse than San Cristobal de las Casas, where we’d at least spent an afternoon and an evening exploring. Our visit to Oaxaca was so short, I barely remember having been there!
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I would have loved to have had enough time to experience the city properly. Oaxaca is known for social and political activism, and a vibrant art scene. Student groups hold demonstrations, and indigenous activists organize protests. The Zapotecs, the largest indigenous group in the region, have roots here stretching back a thousand years or more. We saw a fair bit of graffiti, some of it wonderfully artistic, well executed and brightly colored, as well as some that came straight to the point: Turista Go Home (Tourist Go Home), Oaxaca AntiCapitalista.
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There was an ofrenda in the hotel’s underground garage, an altar, festooned with marigolds; the traditional shrine created by family members to honor deceased relatives during the Day of the Dead celebration. If we hadn’t been committed to San Miguel de Allende, we would surely have stayed in Oaxaca, which ranks right alongside San Miguel as one of the best places to celebrate the holiday. Out on the street, there was a frenzy of decoration going on, with ofrendas on street corners, and strings of marigolds draped from light poles, street signs, and trees. I got the sense that if I’d stood too long in one spot, I would have ended up with a painted face, and marigolds in my hair!
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A Los Muertos Ofrenda, and a warning on the wall of our hotel garage: They’re not responsible for damage due to fires, floods, and earthquakes.
I tried not to think about all we were missing, by not spending more time in Oaxaca. Their cuisine, heavy on the spicy sauce known as molé, is world famous, and so is the Mescal, a popular alcoholic beverage distilled from agave. Mescal did not originate in Oaxaca, but 90% of all the Mescal in Mexico is produced there, making it a major regional enterprise, and a source of pride for the locals. Personally, I’ve always been a bit turned off by that stuff. It’s a close relative to Tequila, which I’ve often enjoyed in the form of Margaritas, but, in my mind, at least, matching Mescal against good Tequila is like comparing moonshine to top-shelf sipping whiskey. Most of the Mescal sold in the United States has an “extra ingredient,” a little something that some of the distillers started adding to their product in hopes of attracting attention and boosting sales.
Each of the bottles contains a gusano, a dead maguey worm, (actually a type of caterpillar), preserved by the alcohol, like a lab specimen. The worm isn’t considered a contaminant, it’s an ingredient, said to impart a unique flavor, and it’s there in accordance with a tradition beloved by drunken fraternity brothers everywhere: when a bottle of Mescal is passed around at a party, whoever ends up with the last swig is honor bound to eat the worm.
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Mescal, with a plump maguey worm in the bottle.
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Paintings by local artists in Oaxaca
There are brilliant local painters whose work aligns with the “Oaxacan School,” a primitive style which draws inspiration from Native American themes, and features often bizarre depictions of “magical realism.” I would have loved to take in one or two of their good museums, or to browse in the art galleries. (See “The 6 Best Museums and Galleries in Oaxaca, Lonely Planet.com). Original paintings are beyond my means, even in Mexico, but it would have been cool to pick up a poster or two to frame on my wall at home. When it comes to art and traditional handicrafts, each of the different regions in Mexico has their own unique style, and Oaxaca has more to offer than most.
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Shortly after dinner, as we were heading upstairs to our room, there was a bit of excitement in the lobby. A crew from one of the TV stations in Mexico City had just arrived in Oaxaca to cover the holiday, and they were apparently all staying at our hotel. The two reporters, a silver-haired man in a suit and tie, and an attractive woman in a dangerously short skirt, were apparently well-known celebrities, and their arrival created a minor uproar among the staff, setting off a flurry of selfie-taking and autograph signing. Mike and I watched all that from behind the railing on the second floor, then ducked into our room for some much needed sleep.
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We were facing another long drive the next day, at least ten hours to Querétaro, where we planned to stay the night. From there, it was a hop and a skip to San Miguel de Allende, and if all went according to plan, we’d be arriving just in time for the beginning of the three day fiesta. We’d been looking forward to it for weeks. All we had to do now was get there!
Next up: Oaxaca to Puebla
Rick,
Great report--as always--and the photos are very cool.
I am not sure why this is, but for some peculiar reason this task has fallen on my plate several times over the years! Statistically, way, way beyond reasonable happenstance in my view!Quote:
when a bottle of Mescal is passed around at a party, whoever ends up with the last swig is honor bound to eat the worm.
DAY 22:
We were down to the last week of our month-long Mexican Road Trip, and each of the few remaining days was locked in. This day, #22, was a driving day: starting from Oaxaca, it was a 400 mile, nine hour slog to Queretaro, where we planned to stay the night. From Queretaro, it was a hop and a skip to San Miguel de Allende, where we had hotel reservations for all three days and nights of the upcoming Dia de Los Muertos celebration. Finally, we had a two-day drive from San Miguel to the U.S. Border, and on to Austin, Texas, where Michael, my shotgun rider, had a plane to catch.
The route we were taking was a 400 mile succession of Federal Highways that were 90% toll roads, and that many miles worth of tolls adds up to quite a pile of Pesos; (Fifty bucks worth, give or take, at today’s rates). Most drivers traveling long distances in Mexico will gladly pay those tolls, because what you’re getting for your money is a much better road. (Click the link, at right/below, for more info about Mexico’s Toll Roads.) <<CLICK HERE>> for information about Mexico’s Toll Roads
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Mexico’s Secretary of Communications and Transport has developed an App that makes it easy to plan your route between cities, taking maximum advantage of the Autopistas. Click the link (above, right), if you’d like to check it out. <<CLICK HERE>> to access a Point to Point Route Planner
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The toll roads, known as Cuotas, are safer than the Libre (free) highways, because they’re designed and built to modern expressway standards, and they are (for the most part) more consistently maintained. Driving on a Cuota, you’re much less likely to run into the potholes, speed bumps, livestock, and other assorted hazards that drivers face on the regular Mexican highways. The toll roads are also significantly faster, because they’re less congested, the speed limits are higher, and they bypass all but the largest towns.
All things considered, this particular four hundred miles should have been a breeze, but there was a major obstacle just past the halfway point: Mexico’s Distrito Federal (Federal District), otherwise known as Mexico City. Mexico’s capital is one of the world’s most densely populated urban areas, and it boasts some of the world’s worst traffic. The most direct route between Oaxaca and Queretaro went smack dab through the outskirts of the D.F., and that, all by itself, was a problem.
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To go along with that horrendous traffic, Mexico City has some of the world’s worst air pollution from vehicle emissions. As far back as 1989, they were forced to take drastic measures, implementing a program known as Hoy No Circula, (Don’t Drive Today), which reduces emissions by taking every non-exempt vehicle off the road altogether one day per week, as well as certain Saturdays, and weekdays during the morning commute. “Non-Exempt,” in this context, applies to any vehicle not displaying the proper license plate decal, which is the only acceptable proof of compliance with the strict emissions standards. Tourists and their personal vehicles are automatically non-exempt, so if you intend to drive in the D.F., or in the State of Mexico, you’d best get familiar with the program. Here’s an overview:
HOY NO CIRCULA!
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<<CLICK HERE>> for more information about “Hoy No Circula”
“Hoy No Circula,” (Don’t Drive Today) requires all drivers to leave their non-exempt vehicle parked one day per week, as a way to reduce vehicle emissions. Air quality in Mexico City ranks among the worst in the world, so they’re serious about enforcement, and anyone caught driving a vehicle on a day when it’s not supposed to be on the road gets a citation and a significant fine. Every vehicle operated in the D.F. is subject to these regulations, even tourists, like us, who are just passing through.
¿Que Dias No Circulo?
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Residents have special holographic decals on their license plates, declaring their exemption, when they’ve met the strict emissions requirements, or specifying their “Don’t Drive” day if the vehicle fails the inspection, or is disqualified by its age. The restrictions for visitors are determined by the last digit on their license plate. There is a web application, sponsored by the Mexico City Government, which drivers with foreign plates can use to figure out their schedule: <<¿Que Dias No Circulo?>> (Which Days Don’t Drive?) In my case, the last digit on my Jeep’s plate was a “4.” Under “Hologram” I select “Autos Foraneos,” (Foreign Auto), and under “Ultimo Digito” I select #4.
With these choices, the App tells me I won’t be allowed to drive anywhere in the D.F. (Federal District), or in the State of Mexico, between the hours of 5 AM and 10 PM on Wednesdays or Saturdays, nor could I be on the road between 5 AM and 11 AM on any weekday (the hours of the morning commute).
<<CLICK HERE>> for an App that tells you which days you have to stay off the road.
PASE TURISTICO
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Tourists who plan ahead are allowed a fourteen day exemption to the program, known as a Pase Turistico. (Either 14 continuous days, or smaller blocks of 3 days or 7 days, not to exceed 14 days total over a six month span). Vehicles that are model year 2009 or newer are allowed to apply for a Pase once every six months. It’s recommended that you do so well in advance of your trip, and that you always carry a printed copy of the document in your vehicle when driving in or near the D.F.
<<CLICK HERE>> to apply for a “Pase Turistico”
There’s another option that’s even easier. The Hoy No Circula rules only apply to Mexico City and the surrounding State of Mexico, so as long as you stick to highways that stay entirely within a different state, such as Tlaxcala or Hidalgo, you don’t need to worry about any of this. That’s actually trickier than it sounds, because the borders between the State of Mexico and its neighbors are not straight lines (see map, below). The main road (MX 40D) crosses in and out of the State of Mexico several times, and for us, that was a problem. With no Pase Turistico, I needed to make sure that whatever road we ended up on kept us north of any borders with the State of Mexico.
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The red line represents the border between the State of Mexico, where Hoy No Circula is strictly enforced, and the State of Hidalgo, where the emissions reduction program has never been implemented.
LEAVING OAXACA
With a nine hour drive ahead of us, we really couldn’t afford to linger in Oaxaca, as much as we would have loved to see more of the charming old city. San Miguel de Allende, where we were headed, is one of the best places in Mexico to experience the Dia de Los Muertos celebration. If we hadn’t already made our reservations, we most definitely would have stayed in Oaxaca, which, according to a lot of people, is actually even better. The decorations were already starting to go up, and if we hadn’t been so anxous to get on the road, we would have at least made a circuit of the plaza, to snap some photos; instead, I settled for a few shots of the neighborhood around our hotel, in a city just beginning to come awake.
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Street Scenes in Oaxaca, early morning
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On the road OUT of Oaxaca!
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Auditorio Guelaguetza
We passed alongside a futuristic structure made of arched steel girders spanning what appeared to be a concert stage. I wasn’t able to look it up while I was driving, but later investigation identified the Auditorio Guelaguetza, a well-known venue for festivals, concerts, dances, and theater. Situated on Cerro del Fortín (Fortín Hill), the site offers a panoramic view of Oaxaca City. The design is reminiscent of ancient Greek and Roman theaters, with a semicircular shape that takes advantage of the hill’s natural slope for seating. It would have been fun to attend an event there, but, alas, we were already out of time, so we sailed on by.
We drove through town in morning traffic for half an hour or so, staying on MX 190, the Pan American Highway, until it merged with the Autopista, MX 135D. From that point, we were back into the mountains, enjoying spectacular views of the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca as we cruised along gentle curves, with minimal traffic, making excellent time. Tropical mountains like these never fail to tug at my heart strings, reminding me of the northern Andes, where I spent some of the happiest years of my youth, driving all over the place in a truck I shipped down from the U.S.
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We continued north/northwest on MX 135D for another hour or so. The highway was an autopista, a toll road, but in the most mountainous segments the divided highway was reduced to a single road, with one lane in each direction, and with no median separating the travel lanes. We didn’t mind one bit; the engineering of the road, and the quality of the pavement was as good or better than any two-lane highway in the U.S.
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We rolled in to the first major toll plaza at about 8:30, already ahead of our nominal schedule. Michael spotted these three guys (above) and talked them into posing for him. I love this picture! It puts a very human face on the police presence in Mexico. These gentlemen are first responders, heroes who face danger for a living. They were posted there at that toll plaza to protect travelers like us, and I actually did feel a mite safer, just seeing them there.
Next up: Oaxaca to Puebla: Part 2
After the toll plaza: more beautiful mountain roads!
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Mexican passing lane
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Nice curve!
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Cool! From the sign, it looks like a 45% grade!
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Seat belts? We don't need no steenking seat belts!
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Just in time for happy hour!
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Statue of Liberty on a northbound bus
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Interesting luggage rack
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Pigs on the move in Puebla
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We arrived at the next toll plaza an hour or so later, and at that point the terrain started to level off. There were still plenty of mountains, but they were mountains off in the distance, along the horizon, so the highway was straight and flat, with a high speed limit that made it easy to cover distance quickly. At the rate we were going, we’d be in Puebla before lunch time. That was our halfway point, so we were burning up the miles like nobody’s business.
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So--is that a real pyramid, off to the right? Maybe. But probably not.
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We decided to pass on the Restaurant Enriquez
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One advantage to the libre (free) Mexican highways that usually parallel the autopistas is the free entertainment. You see so much wacky stuff, especially when passing through the small towns. My plan for the day had us staying on the cuotas, so I assumed we’d be missing all the fun. Not so, as it turned out! In central Mexico, even the toll roads are entertaining, with all sorts of bizarre, “only in Mexico” scenarios. I’m particularly fond of this “cattle car,” (above); a half-ton pickup hauling two full grown cows and a calf (or is it a goat?)!
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Mexican Highway Maintenance crew
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??? (I have no idea what that is...)
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By just a bit after 11 AM, we were already rolling into Puebla, where there was major construction happening, adding an overpass to the very highway we were driving on. Traffic was a total mess, but we finally got through the work zone, and back on the open road.
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The next part of the drive was going to be tricky. We almost (but not quite) pulled it off...
Next up: Officer Plata and La Mordida
After Puebla, we started seeing truckloads of cut flowers, mostly yellow-orange marigolds destined for the upcoming Dia de los Muertos celebrations in the cities and towns surrounding Mexico’s capital. Marigolds are used to decorate the altars, known as ofrendas, put up by families to honor deceased relatives during the three days of the holiday. The bright color and strong scent of the blooms is thought to attract the spirits of the departed, so they really pile them on. The displays pop up everywhere: in parks and cemeteries, on street corners, in the plazas, so many flowers, the trucks we were seeing were only the beginning.
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The next segment of the trip was the tricky part. The main route from Puebla to Queretaro was the toll road, MX 40D, but that was a bad choice for us, because it crossed and re-crossed the border into the State of Mexico, where we would be at risk of violating the Hoy no Circula regulations. Mike was the navigator, which put him in charge of telling me where and when to turn, in order to avoid all of that. We’d studied our road map, (the Guia Roji) back in Oaxaca, and I’d drilled Mike on the safe sequence of roads. The first critical turn would be at the Toll Plaza Capulalpan, where we would exit the Autopista onto a smaller highway, MX 88, toward Pachuca.
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The blue line is the autopista from Puebla to Queretaro, crossing in and out of the State of Mexico (the area delineated by the dotted red line). The orange line is a detour that avoids the State of Mexico.
We were sailing along, listening to some tunes on the Jeep’s good stereo, and reminiscing over old times, the way old guys like us love to do. “You know where we’re supposed to turn, right?” I asked him.
“Oh, hell yes,” he replied. “Caca-poop-in-a-pan. How could I forget a thing like that? Besides, we can’t miss it; it’s a toll plaza, so we’ll have to stop.”
“Right,” I said, not quite as confident as Mike seemed to be. I saw a sign that said Ixhuatepec, which sounded familiar. “Keep a sharp eye out,” I said to Mike.
“Of course,” he replied, pointing off to the right. “There’s the toll plaza right there. Wait. We’re not stopping. I thought we were supposed to stop?”
“We were supposed to take that exit we just passed,” I said, one eye on my rear view mirror as I watched the toll booths disappear behind us. “The exit must have led to the toll plaza. Crap. Now we either find one of those Retornos to make a U-turn, or we keep going to the next exit. Route 9 will take us to MX 88. It’s only about 15 miles up the road, but it’s on the wrong side of the State border.”
We crossed into the State of Mexico long before we reached the exit for Route 9, but there were no police cars waiting to pounce, and no net dropped over our heads. We never did see any Retornos (U-turn exits), but we arrived at the turn-off without incident. Just our luck: the exit was under construction, and closed with barricades.
“Double crap,” I said, (or words to that effect). “Please check the map. If I remember correctly, there’s going to be a junction with MX 85, to Pachuca, maybe 20 miles up the road. Do not, do not, DO NOT miss that turn, Michael! It’s super important!”
“Calm down, Rickey. We got this.”
About 15 minutes later, I was busy driving, moving through a tightly packed herd of eighteen wheelers, and Mike was busy with his GoPro camera, shooting random video through the windshield. We came up on one of those big overhead highway signs: Queretaro and Morelia were straight ahead, while Mexico, Pachuca, and Aifa veered off to the right. By the time I realized the significance of what I’d just seen, we were past it. “Wasn’t that our turn?” I asked.
“It said Mexico,” Mike replied, looking at me through the video camera. “Aren’t we staying away from Mexico, State, City, whatever?”
“It also said Pachuca, and MX 85,” I said with a groan. “That was it, you nimrod. Now we HAVE to turn around!” We proceeded along MX 40D for ten miles, then twenty miles, but there were no Retornos, and every exit that might have allowed us to reverse direction was blocked by construction.
“You know what I’m thinking?” I said to Mike. “We’re already past the halfway point. I’m thinking that as long as we stay on the toll road, and don’t make any stops, we might just make it all the way to Queretaro without any trouble. I haven’t even SEEN any cops on this road; not so far, anyway. Maybe I should stop worrying about which of these Estados we’re in, and focus on getting where we’re going as quickly as possible.”
“Amen to that,” said Mike, still shooting scenery with his GoPro. “You’re acting so nervous, it’s making ME nervous!”
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I remembered this part of the road from my map, an area where the Mexico State border looked like it had been drawn by an inebriated grasshopper dipped in ink. I hadn’t exactly memorized the lay of the land; we weren’t even supposed to BE here! We should have turned off to the north fifty miles back, but there was no changing things now. We simply couldn’t worry about the location of that State border. It would have been impossible to keep track of it.
We merged on to MX 57D from MX 40D, and hadn’t gone far before we arrived at a Toll plaza where all traffic had to stop. A squad of Federales was inspecting vehicles as they exited the toll lanes, questioning drivers and using mirrors on poles to search beneath cars, trucks, and buses, apparently looking for explosives. We’d seen a bit of that sort of thing in the border region, when we first entered the country, but otherwise, this was something new, and it had me worried. When our turn came, they waved us on without any inspection. Thankfully, there was no mention of “Hoy no Circula.”
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As we drove away from the toll plaza, a State Police car that had been parked off to one side made a fast U-Turn and started following me. A moment later, he turned on his flashers and gave me a short blast on his siren, motioning for me to pull over. I did that, and watched as two uniformed policemen got out. The pair approached me on the driver’s side, and one of them hung back, apparently checking out my license plate before making a phone call.
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Documentos,” said the officer by my window. “Licensia, los permisos, seguros, todo eso.”
I wasn’t sure if I was being stopped for some infraction, or if these guys were just fishing. I figured it might be related to Hoy no Circula, but I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. My Spanish is decent. I understood what they wanted, but I pretended ignorance, and responded strictly in English. “I don’t understand,” I said. “No entiendo. You want papers? Papeles? Have I done something wrong?”
I handed over a sheaf of papers, as requested. The officer took a moment to glance through them, then he looked at me with a sly expression. “No tiene Pase Turistico?”
He was referring to the Hoy No Circula exemption for tourists, which we did NOT have. “I don’t understand you,” I said, sticking with the ignorant gringo approach. “No entiendo.“
The other officer, obviously the senior of the two, walked up beside his partner. “No es-peaking Spanish?” he said, more a statement than a question.
“No,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. “How about you? You speaking English?”
The two of them went on to explain, in broken Spanglish, the Hoy No Circula program. They told me that I was not allowed to be on the road in the State of Mexico, and that they had no choice but to have my vehicle towed to their impound lot. There would be a large fine, plus towing and storage fees.
There was no way I could let that happen–the fine was one thing, but losing a whole day? That would ruin our plans for the Dia de Los Muertos celebration. At that point, it was time for me to remember my Spanish. “Si pago la multa aquí mismo, ahora mismo, en efectivo, ¿hay alguna posibilidad de que nos dejen ir con una advertencia? Salimos del Estado de México, vamos a Querétaro.” (If I pay the fine right here, right now, in cash, is there any chance you could let us go with a warning? We’re leaving the State of Mexico, driving to Queretaro.)
The two policemen looked at each other and grinned. “Cinco mil Pesos,” said the younger one.
Five thousand Pesos was more than three hundred dollars at the exchange rate in effect back in 2015; that seemed high to me. “I’ve only got 2,000 Pesos in cash,” I said. “Dos mil. I would have to go to a banco to get more.”
They didn’t much like that idea; they obviously wanted to keep this simple, so they conferred with each other, then turned back to me. “Two thousand, no suficiente,” said the older cop. “How about your amigo? No tiene dinero?”
Mike had been sitting quietly the whole time, not saying a word. “Do you have any cash?” I asked him in a half-whisper. “Fifty bucks or so?” He pulled out his wallet and opened it up, showing maybe 200 Pesos in small bills. “That’s it? That’s all you got?” Michael was carrying most of his money seperate from his wallet, stashed in his socks. That was smart, but what he did next was just plain dumb: he pulled out his whole bank roll, ALL of his money, in plain view of the two policemen.
“Parece que hay suficiente,” said the young one to his partner, pointing to the money in Mike’s hand. I tried negotiating, but there was no more hiding the fact that we had the cash.
In the end, I counted out the five thousand Pesos, and handed it over. From that point on the two officers were nice as pie, explaining that I was still in violation, so we should proceed directly to Queretaro without stopping. They actually gave me a hand-written receipt, so that I’d have something to show if anyone else tried to pull me over.
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There’s no mention of the $300 “fine” I had just paid; it simply lists the date, my license plate number, and his name: “Officer Plata.” That last was clearly an attempt at humor: In Pablo Escobar’s famous catchphrase, “Plata o plomo,” Plomo (lead) refers to bullets–violent consequences–while Plata (silver) refers to the bribe money offered as an alternative.
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Mike messed up: he missed our turn, not once, but twice, and then, at a critical moment, he flashed his entire bank roll in front of two guys who were intent on taking it from him. I’d like to say I was blameless in the whole unseemly affair, but that wouldn’t be accurate. With all my experience driving in Latin America, and dealing with questionable law enforcement, I’m the one who should have handled things better!
If I had been properly prepared, and in possession of a Pase Turistico, this could have been avoided. In fact, if I’d simply done my research, I would have known that this day, a Friday, was NOT the “no-drive” day for my Jeep, nor was the time of day, mid-afternoon, a time when I was supposed to stay off the road. “Officer Plata” and his partner were scamming me from the start. If I had called their bluff, made them issue their citation, I could have fought it and I almost certainly would have won. Thing was, we didn’t have time for this nonsense. For me, it was worth three hundred bucks, just to be allowed to leave without further delay!
Next up: Queretaro vs Tequisquiapan: The GPS wasn’t wrong!
Driving away from that toll plaza, the mood was what you might call somber. I was angry with Michael, angry with myself, angry with the two Mexican cops that had just robbed us in broad daylight. Corruption of that sort is a fact of life in pretty much every third world country. Public servants, from passport clerks to high level bureaucrats, routinely supplement their income by dubious means; bribe money is the grease that oils the machinery of funky governments. I understood that, intellectually, but this incident affected me personally, and put me in a rotten mood. We were doing this trip on a budget, and three hundred bucks was a lot of money to lose.
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It took us until almost 4:00 to reach Queretaro. The weather was cloudy and cool, and the rush hour was starting. What that meant for us was horrible traffic, approaching total gridlock. Mexico has more than its share of bad drivers, and when you concentrate them, like this crowd of commuters in a big city like Queretaro, (1.3 million inhabitants, back in 2015) what you get is vehicular chaos. We hadn’t made any reservations, so we were stuck in a traffic jam with no idea where we were going. We had to get OFF the local expressway, and even that was a serious challenge!
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We’d stayed in Queretaro on our drive down from the U.S. Finding a room was not difficult, so I foolishly assumed it wouldn’t be a problem this time, either. I logged in to Expedia.Mx using Mike’s phone. First, I checked the Staybridge Suites, the business class chain hotel where we stayed before. No dice. They were totally booked. I used Expedia to cast a wider net, and ALL of the mid-range hotels were booked through the weekend. The only room I found was a suite at the Marriott that cost $200 per night, which was totally out of the question. The scarcity of accommodations had to be because of the upcoming holiday. I hadn’t expected Queretaro to be impacted by Dia de los Muertos. Were all these people staying here because they couldn’t get rooms in San Miguel de Allende? That was a scary thought!
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Rainy afternoon in Queretaro
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We headed for the outskirts of the city to escape the crush of traffic; there wasn’t a single hotel in sight, so I pulled over to the side of the road and did another search on Expedia, widening the search area, and this time, I found something! A hotel called the Casa Blanca, located at #6 Cinco de Mayo, Tequisquiapan, Queretaro. They had rooms for 700 Pesos (a little over $40 U.S.), so I booked it. When I punched the address into my GPS, the silly thing tried to send me to a town called Tequisquiapan, 60 km away to the east. That couldn’t be right, so I punched in “#6 Cinco de Mayo,” just that by itself, and we followed the prompts across town, into a neighborhood.
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We found Cinco de Mayo, a purely residential side street, very narrow, and a bit shabby. #6 was the last door on the right of this dead end.
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I Googled the Hotel Casablanca–something I should have done in the first place–and discovered that my GPS was right the first time. The hotel was at #6 Cinco de Mayo, that much was correct, but it was, in fact, in a TOWN called Tequisquiapan, not in a neighborhood in Queretaro, as I had assumed. After losing $300 to Officer Plata, I wasn’t inclined to throw away the non-refundable cost of a hotel room, even though it meant driving an hour out of our way.
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The route from #6 Cinco de Mayo, Queretaro to #6 Cinco de Mayo, Tequisquiapan, Queretaro!
What I had not considered was the lateness of the hour. By the time we cleared the city limits it was already 6:30, and the sun was dropping fast. Long before we reached Tequisquiapan, it was full dark, and when I say dark, I mean black as pitch, moonless, and so dark it was hard to see the blacktop! Worse, there were dozens of Topes, speed bumps, all but invisible in the darkness, as well as livestock wandering in the road, and vehicles driving without headlights, leading to numerous heart-in-mouth moments as we drove along. We finally reached the Hotel Casablanca after an hour or so. The experience underscored the many reasons why they advise against driving at night in Mexico!
The hotel was charming, and so was the town, but we arrived too late in the day to see much of anything.
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We had an interesting chat with the hotel owner. We seemed to be his only guests that night, which was strange, considering how busy they were in Queretaro. He explained that Tequisquiapan was a market town, that almost all of his business happened on weekends when markets were being held–and this weekend, there was no market. Everybody was off celebrating the Dia de Los Muertos, so his usual customers, mostly Chilangos, tourists from Mexico City, made other plans.
He quizzed me about Expedia, which I used to book the room. He explained that hotels like his are forced to participate, because if they’re not listed by the service, they’ll lose business. Expedia then forces them to discount the room prices, and then they take a fee off the top. What he’s left with barely covers his expenses. I explained that Expedia helped me find wonderful hotels that I would not have seen otherwise, and allowed me to compare prices before booking, all of which I found very useful. I hadn’t been aware of the fact that the hotels are getting a raw deal. I don’t know if that problem was specific to Mexico, or if it has since been resolved, with a more equitable fee structure. My personal experience with Expedia.mx was ten years ago, and it was entirely positive.
We had dinner somewhere near the hotel, and then crashed. It had been a rotten day. First the shakedown by officer Plata, then the boneheaded mixup on the address of the hotel. Tomorrow was bound to be better: San Miguel de Allende was just over an hour away, and we had reservations at a hotel there for the next three nights. We were going to just relax and enjoy the festival; three days in a row in the same spot? That was going to be NICE!
Next up: Tequisquiapan to San Miguel de Allende
DAY 23!
We started Day #23 of our road trip at the Hotel Casablanca in Tequisquiapan, a colonial era town an hour or so east of the city of Queretaro. It’s said to be quite charming, but, sadly, we didn’t get to stay long enough to check it out. We arrived after dark, and we had to leave right after breakfast. San Miguel de Allende was still two hours away by road, and our goal was to get there, as quickly as possible! This was the first day of the Dia de los Muertos celebration, and after everything we’d gone through to make it there on time, we didn’t want to miss a single minute of the festivities.
HOTEL CASABLANCA
TEQUISQUIAPAN, QUERETARO
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Tequisquiapan is a popular weekend getaway spot for residents of Mexico City, as well as the nearby city of Queretaro. The town is known for its cobblestone streets and 300 year-old Spanish Colonial architecture, and for the surrounding vineyards that produce some of the region’s better wines. The Hotel Casablanca is reasonably priced and centrally located.
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We ended up at this quaint hotel by mistake. When I booked the room, I thought “Tequisquiapan” was a neighborhood in Queretaro, as opposed to a seperate town that was two hours out of our way!
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In and around Tequisquiapan, Queretaro
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Tequisquiapan was about 75 miles from San Miguel de Allende, but it was likely to take us two hours to travel that distance. We first had to retrace our steps back to the city of Queretaro, and from there, it was at least another hour to our destination. We had reservations for the next three nights at the “Hotel/RV Park San Ramon,” just outside the town. I’d put in so many long days behind the wheel, the thought of stopping in one place for three days in a row had enormous appeal.
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The sky was overcast, and traffic was light. One of the few vehicles we saw on the road was a truckload of soldiers.
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OCTOBER 31st: ALL SAINTS EVE
We arrived in San Miguel at about 11 AM. That was too early to check in to our hotel, so we had a little time to kill. We found a nice spot to park in the hills above the city. There were expansive views of the whole area, and the neighborhood that was built to take advantage of those views was lovely, replete with flowering trees that filled the air with their perfumed scent. San Miguel, at an altitude of 6,400 feet and a tropical latitude has a climate that is very close to perfection, with pleasant days and cool nights, rarely an uncomfortable extreme.
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We drove down out of the hills, and stopped at a roadside cafe for a bite to eat before searching for our hotel. The San Ramon was just beyond the city limits on the road to Dolores Hidalgo. There are vineyards in the area, so the road itself is part of what’s been designated as the Ruta del Vino (Wine Route).
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HOTEL SAN RAMON
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The Hotel San Ramon features fairly basic motel-style accommodations, including a swimming pool (which was not in use when we were there). They have a large lot out back that fills with RV’s in the busy summer season. It’s the perfect spot to leave your rig while you explore San Miguel on foot. Hop on one of the buses that pass by every half hour; they’ll whisk you downtown in 10 minutes or less, for 10 Pesos!
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The San Ramon was not the least bit fancy, but it was exactly what we needed!
Next up: The Fiesta Begins!
Parking in San Miguel de Allende is a nightmare, even when there isn’t a festival going on, so we left the Jeep at the San Ramon, and took a bus into town. So easy!
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The bus stopped in a neighborhood near the center of town. There was a street fair happening, with a guitar player and fresh food being served. The people, all local folk, were welcoming, and a carnival-like atmosphere was already building.
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Walking toward the Jardin, San Miguel de Allende’s main plaza, we passed through a barrio called the Colonia Guadalupe, famous for colorful murals:
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The murals are an evolving art form, and the artists have a tendency to upgrade their work, adding to, or simply painting over their original designs. What we saw on our stroll through the Colonia in 2015–the designs pictured here–have mostly been replaced (some more than once) during the ten years that have passed since then. San Miguel de Allende is justifiably proud of their vibrant art scene, and the murals are a wonderful example. This part of our walk set the tone for us. We hadn’t even reached the Plaza, and we were already feeling celebratory!
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It’s fairly easy to get your bearings in San Miguel de Allende. The gothic tower of the church rises above the Jardin, the Plaza de Allende. It’s visible from practically everywhere, so all you have to do is walk toward it, and you’ll end up right where you need to be. From what we were told at our hotel, there wasn’t likely to be a lot going on just yet. The main celebration was scheduled for Saturday night, November 1st. Today, Friday, there would be a fiesta for families, with everyone in costume, but that wouldn’t start until sundown.
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By the time we reached the Jardin, we discovered that there was plenty going on! Everything, in every direction, was Puro Mexico, sights you’d not see anywhere else!
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They’re everywhere!
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Mike Fritz and friend (La Catarina!)
The folks at the San Ramon weren’t entirely wrong. There was nothing organized happening at the Jardin, but there were plenty of locals in costume, and the painted faces were pretty much everywhere. “Artists” were set up on every street corner, ready to accommodate all requests. Mike and I didn’t go for it; we didn’t want paint in our beards. In hindsight, we probably should have done it anyway, become participants, rather than just observers!
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The Day of the Dead is about much more than costumes and face paint. The actual national holiday, on November 2nd each year, is a day for honoring the memory of loved ones. It’s not a somber event, or a time for grieving. Rather, it’s a day when the living pray for the souls of departed family and friends, and honor and celebrate their memories. Mexico is primarily a Catholic country, and the Day of the Dead is directly tied to the Catholic celebration of All Soul’s Day. As practiced in Mexico, this is a day when families gather at the cemetery, bringing flowers, offerings of food and drink, and personal items that were favored by the deceased. Stories are told, memories are shared, there’s laughter, as well as a few tears. All in all, it’s a relatively healthy way of dealing with the loss of loved ones, and of keeping their memory alive.
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Throughout the three days of the Festival, hand-built altars known as “ofrendas” pop up in the Plaza, on street corners, in courtyards, anywhere there’s space. Families decorate the altars with photographs, objects, and artwork that would have been meaningful to the relative being honored. Ofrendas are always decked out with flowers, primarily marigolds, as the bright color and strong scent is said to be “strongly” attractive to spirits. Skeletons predominate!
The remarkable celebration that this holiday has become began centuries ago, as a tradition in central and southern Mexico. Originally, it was a springtime festival dedicated to an Aztec goddess. That native festival was subverted by the church–a fairly common practice–and the timing of the celebration was moved to the fall of the year, to coincide with an appropriate date on the Catholic calendar. The original Aztec traditions never held sway in northern Mexico, so in that region, the Catholic observance was never more than just that, a call to prayer that was private, and subdued, not at all a public spectacle.
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All of that changed after the Mexican government created the national holiday. Today, the Dia de los Muertos has been declared to be an Intangible World Heritage by the United Nations, and it’s celebrated throughout Mexico, as well as in many other parts of the world–anywhere that is home to any significant number of Mexican immigrants. But there are a few spots that are justifiably famous for having the best, the gaudiest, and the most enthusiastic celebrations of all. Opinions vary, but everyone’s list includes the city of Oaxaca, in the state of Oaxaca. The town of Patzcuaro, in Michoacan, as well as Mérida, in the Yucatan. And then there’s this place: San Miguel de Allende. We chose it, from among all the other possibilities, and, so far, at least, it was looking like we chose well!
After wandering the Plaza for a bit, we caught the bus back to our hotel, where we grabbed a bite to eat and changed clothes. Then we caught the bus back to town, just in time for the sunset, and the start of the festival!
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I’m not sure why this dog was in this tree, but he seemed at home!
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Sun going down over Starbucks in San Miguel de Allende!
Next up: Mexican Halloween: A night for the children
The run-up to the Day of the Dead starts on October 31st, the date that we celebrate as Halloween in the U.S. That’s the day when our kids dress up as ghosts and goblins, super heroes and Disney princesses, and then wander around our neighborhoods extorting candy from our neighbors. (Okay, so it’s not REALLY extortion, but the whole notion of “Trick or Treat” implies a threat. “Give me candy, or I’ll soap your windows!” Even though nobody really does that anymore.) October 31st is also the date of another Catholic holiday, this one known as All Saint’s Eve, or All Hallow’s Eve. Officially, we’re referring to the night before All Saints Day, which is celebrated on November 1st, and is, for the Catholics, a day for the veneration of all saints and martyrs.
In Mexico, these three days are generally considered together as one big happy holiday, with discrete parts that happen in a particular sequence. I can’t say with any certainty that the structure and flow of the festivities is exactly the same in other parts of Mexico, but in San Miguel, the night of October 31st is all about costumed kids and candy:
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Local Seniors, mostly from the expatriate community, station themselves around the Plaza and pass out candy to the children from “Costco-sized” bags. It’s so much like Halloween, it was totally familiar!
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The children’s costumes are fantastic! There are “store-bought” costumes that were probably purchased at Wal Mart, but the best ones are hand made, traditional clothing from the villages but in miniature sizes, along with fancy dresses that are in bizarre contrast with the painted faces and skull motifs.
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This is a costume parade that is unique to the Dia de Los Muertos. It’s not the sort of thing that you simply witness. It’s an experience of the sort that will leave you smiling for hours, if not for days! The whole scene on the Plaza may not have been entirely authentic. The gringo influence was obvious, but when people are having this much fun, who the heck cares?
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After an hour or two, the families with smaller children started drifting away, leaving the Plaza to the grownups. Musicians in costume entertained the crowd, and the “Tall Costumes” appeared, performers on stilts, and others walking beneath ten-foot tall costume-draped frameworks that they carried on their shoulders. Leering skulls were everywhere, but the face of death has never been this much fun!
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It had been a long, very fulfilling day for Mike and me. When the party started winding down, we treated ourselves to a taxi in lieu of the bus, and we were back at the Hotel San Ramon in a matter of minutes.
DAY 2: NOVEMBER 1st: ALL SAINTS DAY
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Just like the previous day, most of the festival action was going to be in the evening, but considering how easy it was to hop a bus in to town, that’s exactly what we did, figuring we could get breakfast in one of the cafes around the Plaza.
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We had the bus schedule down pat: they passed by the hotel every 30 minutes. The bus driver was already starting to recognize us, and greeted us a friendly good morning!
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It was still early in the day, but the streets near the plaza were already crowded.
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Papel Picado, vibrant colored paper squares trimmed into intricate patterns, are prepared by the hundreds and used to decorate the ofrendas, as well as the stage.
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PREPARATION:
Because the city is so widely known for its Dia de Los Muertos celebration, there’s a fair bit of preparation required, in anticipation of large crowds coming in from Mexico City, among other places. Local residents work together to prepare the decorations that will brighten the plaza. There are depictions of skulls everywhere, and marigolds by the ton, including loose petals that form a carpet on the stage that will be used for performances. Once all that is set? The celebration begins in earnest!
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Streamers hung with Papel Picado squares converge toward the stage, fluttering in a gentle breeze. (Good thing it didn’t rain!)
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San Miguel’s iconic neo-gothic church, the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, provides an elegant backdrop to the activities in the Plaza Allende. The church was first built more than 300 years ago, with several subsequent phases of construction. The pink limestone facade was added in the late 19th century, created by an indigenous stonemason who was inspired by postcard photos of the cathedrals in Europe. I’d say he did a masterful job of it!
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The Parroquia is a Catholic Parish church dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel. With those baroque pink limestone towers, it’s photogenic as the dickens! It’s one of the most photographed landmarks in all of Mexico, drawing shutterbugs from far and wide. (Including me!)
The Parroquia de San Miguel can’t be called a Cathedral, despite its imposing size, because San Miguel de Allende does not have Bishop, and that’s a requirement for a cathedral in the Catholic hierarchy.
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The Parroquia is in daily use as a parish church, holding services, hosting weddings and funerals. So much more than a mere monument, more than an iconic building; it’s truly the spiritual heart of the community.
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Many of the shops have Los Muertos style decorations around their doorways, heavy on the marigolds.
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Skeleton-themed window displays add to the ambience. They’re for sale, and they make terrific souvenirs!
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Christian themes form an uneasy alliance with the death heads of the Dia de los Muertos. The skeletons are not intended to be demonic. Death comes to us all, a basic fact of life, not something to fear.
Next up: Ofrendas and Catarinas
Your photos really bring the Festivals to life!
Mark
The fiesta continued throughout the day, the crowd in the plaza growing more and more colorful.
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The Jardin Principal is a highly favored location for setting up an ofrenda, the flower-bedecked altars that honor deceased loved ones. By Day two of the festival, there were large, elaborate ofrendas surrounding the entire plaza.
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There were several displays dedicated to “Los 43,” referring to the 43 student protestors from a rural teacher’s college who disappeared under highly suspicious circumstances in 2014. They were almost certainly murdered by cartel thugs. What’s uncertain is the extent to which government troops may have been complicit in the elimination of “subversive” elements. The incident sparked a widespread outcry that is ongoing, more than ten years later.
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Many of the displays come across as humorous, and that’s half the point; they’re intended to bring a smile.
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By mid-afternoon, the Jardin was beginning to fill with people. Painted faces were literally everywhere! It was like a costume party, but the venue wasn’t some hall or other indoor space, it was the whole entire town! Mike and I were definitely getting into the spirit of the thing–but we still drew the line at the notion of painting our beards.
November 1st, the second day of the Festival, coincides with All Saints Day on the Catholic Calendar. In San Miguel de Allende, that’s the day for the grown-ups to get dressed-up, and parade themselves around the square. Families are still welcome, but the costumes get a whole lot fancier!
LA CATARINA
This is also the day they have the contest for the best Catarina, and the Desfile de Las Catarinas (the Catarina Parade). For the uninitiated, Catarina is the most enduring symbol of the Dia de Los Muertos, the dressed up sexy skeleton. Call her the non-threatening symbolic representation of death itself. Her fancy clothes show everyone that death is the great equalizer, affecting even the rich and beautiful.
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One group of costumed revelers escorted a Catarina dressed as a Monarch Butterfly.
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Some of the most elaborate costumes were worn by lovely ladies from San Miguel’s expat community.
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Everyone in the crowd was in awe of these ladies, untouchable in their extraordinary Catarina regalia. Mike walked right up and threw an arm around each of them. The man never missed an opportunity to give a pretty girl a hug!
Next up: The entire town gets involved!
FACE PAINTING
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Everyone in town (okay, almost everyone), gets their face painted with that ghostly white makeup. Eyes, nose, and mouth are outlined in black, with other embellishments added, creating personalized variations on a general theme. The goal is to make one’s face look like a calavera, a human skull, but, trust me, you’ll never see a skull in nature that looks anything like these! The origins of the tradition are a little murky, but it’s widely believed that it started with the sugar skulls used to decorate the ofrendas, the altars set up to honor deceased loved ones through the course of the holiday.
The little skulls, made of molded sugar, are painted and decorated, presumably to make them less frightening for the children. At some point, people started painting their own faces to resemble those of the sugar skulls. It became a friendly competition, people trying to out-skull one another, and it caught on, spreading to all parts of Mexico, and becoming perhaps the most widely recognized aspect of this beloved national holiday.
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Having your face painted by a beautiful stranger is a uniquely intimate experience!
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Some go with a plastic or fiberglass mask, rather than face paint, but it’s really not the same thing!
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ENTERTAINMENT!
There’s a stage set up in the plaza, just in front of the Cathedral, and on the evening of All Saints Day, there’s a program with lights and sound, colored smoke, and dancing demons. The crowds in the Jardin swell to capacity with a convivial mixture of locals and tourists, many in costume or with faces painted, everyone equally welcome, everyone enjoying the show. Groups of mariachis and other musicians provide spontaneous entertainment on the perimeter of the plaza. Throughout the event there are people in those BIG costumes wandering through the crowd.
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The Fiesta was still going strong at midnight, but Mike and me were fading, so we flagged down a taxi, and had him take us to the San Ramon. There weren’t any meters in the taxis in San Miguel, at least not at that time. The fare was set based on the distance traveled, and both times we used taxis between the town and our hotel, we were charged 45 Pesos, just under $3.00. This time, I neglected to confirm the fare when we first got in the cab, assuming it would be the same as what we’d been paying. Big mistake! When we arrived at the San Ramon, the driver demanded TWO HUNDRED Pesos, claiming that was the rate, because the San Ramon was outside the city limits. That was an extra ten bucks, and I had no choice but to pay it, because the service had already been provided.
Another lesson learned the hard way: when traveling by taxi in Mexico, always confirm the fare before starting the trip. Otherwise, you run the risk of being overcharged by an unscrupulous driver!
Next up: Last day of the Fiesta!
DAY 3: NOVEMBER 2nd: DIA DE LOS MUERTOS
We had a liesurely breakfast at the San Ramon, in no big hurry to get going. There was very little happening in the Plaza on this day, Day 3 of the festival. This was All Souls Day, better known as the "Dia de los Muertos!” Today was the official holiday, and this part of the celebration was far more personal. This was the day when most families created their ofrendas, their own versions of the elaborate altars erected in the Jardin. The shrines pop up everywhere, in homes, in courtyards, and in the cemeteries, where families gather to celebrate the memories of their loved ones. We weren’t involved in any of that, so our plan for the day was to simply wander the town at our liesure, and take more photos of the decor and the people in costume. Everything we’d seen and done up to this point had been marvelous. Today, we were going to wrap it up, and tie it with a bow.
We took the bus into town, one last time, paying special attention to the Los Muertos decorations on every street in in the city.
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“Nos Faltan 43,” (we’re missing 43), another reference to the student protesters who “disappeared” in 2014.
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None of these skulls and skeletons are intended to be gruesome, definitely not fearsome, and the kids get into it in the same way that most kids love Halloween. The skulls, and many other elements on the altar displays, are sweet treats made of solid sugar, a fact that isn’t lost on the local bee population. In the spirit of the holiday, no one bothers to shoo them away. The bees, it is said, are entitled to a celebration of their own!
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Like any other holiday, or like anything else that people enjoy, there’s merchandising that goes along with the Day of the Dead, and some of it is pretty wonderful, the craftsmanship superb. Since this is Mexico, we’re not talking about cheap plastic junk mass produced in China:
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San Miguel de Allende is a very pretty town, with well preserved Spanish Colonial architecture and cobblestone streets that provide a charming ambience, and a palpable sense of history.
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As the afternoon wore on into evening, painted and costumed locals appeared in the Jardin. It wasn’t anything close to the crowd that appeared on Friday and Saturday night, but it was still amazing, and great fun to observe!
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The “Tall Costumes” came back out for another turn around the square, La Catarina and her Devilish companion, posing for pictures with the kids in the crowd.
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Everything sort of dwindled after that. With no active entertainment going on, people wandered through, but didn’t stay, and before much longer, the party was over.
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San Miguel de Allende is one of my favorite cities in Mexico, and it’s the perfect place to enjoy the festivities surrounding the Dia de Los Muertos, Mexico’s most celebrated holiday. If you’d like to go and see it for yourself, I recommend that you plan ahead, because the hotels in town tend to fill up well in advance.
Next up: Run for the Border!
The Day of the Dead Festival was one of the most colorful events that I've ever had the pleasure of attending. I took hundreds of photographs, and my friend Michael took hundreds more, so between the two of us, we created a gallery of images that is really quite extraordinary. I used a lot of my favorites in this thread, and I used even more of them in my blog: (Mexican Road Trip: Three Days of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende).
My only problem with all of that was the left-overs, the great pictures that did NOT get chosen on the first pass. Rather than consign them all to my digital dust bin (never to be seen again by anyone), I created a seperate digital photo gallery, for the benefit of anyone who might like that sort of thing.
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<<CLICK HERE>>if you'd like to check it out!
Rick
Wow, such an incredible collections of photos. Especially the Halloween costumes!
I probably hold the record for the most time spent posting a single Field Report here on RTA, but that was never intentional. For those of you who have followed this thread from the beginning, I applaud your patience. For those who may have joined more recently, I encourage you to go back to the beginning and at least skim it, because there's some good stuff there. In my feeble defense, most of the delays were health related: I've spent more time in hospitals in the last six months than in the previous 75 years. Trust me, I would have preferred to be on a road trip!
Are you ready for the last installment of this opus? Buckle up, and heeere we go!
DAY 26:
From: SAN MIGUEL DE ALLENDE
To: MONCLOVA
Day 26! It was a hard thing to believe, and a sad thing to contemplate, but we were about to come to the end of our epic adventure in Mexico. We spent the last three days celebrating the Dia de los Muertos in San Miguel de Allende, and that was the perfect Grand Finale, some of the best fun either of us had ever had. Now, unfortunately, the fun was over. Michael had a plane to catch in Austin, Texas, some 864 miles away, and we had just two days to get him there. Any way you slice it, 864 miles is a long drive, and when you’re in Mexico for most of that distance, it’s even longer! I’d spent some time studying the route we planned to take, and I’d talked to some of the expats in San Miguel, people who had made the drive themselves, and recently. The consensus of opinion pointed to Piedras Negras as the best crossing point. Downtown Nuevo Laredo, which is where we crossed the border on our way south, is considered one of the worst crossing points, largely because the town of Nuevo Laredo, as well as MX-85, the highway connecting Nuevo Laredo to Monterrey, that whole area has been the scene of countless violent incidents, including gun battles, robberies, kidnappings, and carjackings; so many, in fact, that the local press refers to MX-85 as the “Highway of Death.” When we passed that way on Day 1 of our road trip, we had no idea that we were driving into a war zone, and we obviously got lucky, because we slid through without any trouble. I saw no reason to tempt the fates a second time, even though going through Piedras Negras meant driving 75 miles out of our way, adding an extra hour and a half to our already long drive.
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San Miguel de Allende to Monclova
We checked out of the San Ramon right after an early breakfast. We were already on the highway out of town: all we had to do was turn left instead of right at the entrance to the hotel, and then keep driving north until sundown. It was a good road all the way: MX-51 and MX-110 for the first 23 miles, and then MX-57 all the rest of the way to the border. We drove almost the exact same route on our way south at the beginning of the trip, so we knew what to expect.
I figured that if we kept up a steady pace for the next ten hours, we could get as far as Monclova, some 500 miles away. That would leave us just 150 miles more to the border, and from the border to Austin another couple of hundred, most of that on a fast Interstate freeway. Barring any delays, I expected to arrive in the Texas capital with time to spare.
“What do you think?” I asked Mike, as we drove away from the San Ramon.
“I think I’m going to miss Mexico,” he replied. “This has been the best road trip ever.”
“Find us some good tunes,” I said, handing him my phone, which was plugged in to the Jeep’s stereo. I had more than 9,000 songs in my music library, so choosing the soundtrack running in the background was an enjoyable part of our daily routine. As I recall it, Michael usually chose well. He and I had been friends since all the way back in high school. (Sixty years!) That gave us a lot of shared experience, and many mutual acquaintances to talk about on our long drive north that day, cruising along on a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.
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Leaving San Miguel de Allende, headed north on MX 51
That first 23 miles, on the smaller roads, was flat and straight, with no surprises. Thinking back on the thousands of miles we’d already driven on Mexican highways, the rest of the trip was going to be a snooze. Once we hit MX-57, we would be on the best road available, all the way to the border, with no navigation required. The only potential wrinkle was the state of Coahuila, one of several that were classified as dangerous for travelers during the time of our trip. We figured we’d be safe enough as long as we stuck to the toll road, and traveled only during daylight hours.
Note that in 2024, Coahuila was upgraded from Level 3 (Reconsider Travel) to Level 2 (Exercise Increased Caution), as the security situation for travelers has actually improved during the most recent reporting periods.
RUN FOR THE BORDER
on MX 57
San Luis Potosi, the first major town, was 100 miles north of San Miguel de Allende, and to get there, we traveled through the Bajio Region, in the eastern portion of the state of Guanajuato. The Bajio is a high altitude basin within the Mexican Plateau, known for agriculture and a mild climate. The terrain was high plains and rolling hills, with swaths of irrigated farmland producing crops like corn and beans.
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Scenes along the road leaving San Miguel de Allende
I was sorry that we weren’t able to stop in San Luis Potosi. The city has an important place in Mexico’s history, and it’s loaded with Colonial era architecture. There has always been significant wealth here, in the form of one of the world’s largest silver deposits. “Potosi” was appended to the city’s name out of hope that the mines would rival the mountain of silver discovered by the conquistadores in Potosi, Bolivia. They never matched Bolivia–but they’ve been digging up silver and gold by the boatload for centuries.
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City of San Luis Potosi-Panorama
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San Luis Potosi-photo CNN
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In any case, we sailed right past the city on the toll road, and what little we saw of the place was off in the distance. The city and its surroundings appear to be relatively flat, despite an average elevation of around 6,000 feet. As we drove north toward Matehuala, the next major town along the way, the terrain rose a little in altitude, and the surrounding area, mostly grasslands, started getting a little drier.
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Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, Matehuala: Started in 1898, and never quite finished
Matehuala was another major city where all we did was drive-by and wave. It was more of a mile marker for our purpose, a funny name on the road signs. One of the more interesting things I discovered about the place was that name, thought to be derived from an Indian war cry which, roughly translated, means: “Don’t come here!”
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Matehuala, and the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
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Toll Plaza north of MatehualaThe drive north from Matehuala was more of a snooze than a cruise. Straight, flat roads, not much in the way of scenery, and sparsely populated, little going on to break up the monotony. On the plus side, we were really chewing up the miles!
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Saltillo was the next major way point, yet another interesting city we couldn’t take time to visit. On the second day of our road trip, we’d driven the same roads that we drove today. We’d passed through Saltillo, but, just like today, we were in too much of a hurry to stop. Saltillo was our crossroads: if we turned east here, we’d be retracing our previous route to the border at Nuevo Laredo (along the Highway of Death). This time, we knew better, so we turned north, toward Monclova, and Piedras Negras.
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Cathedral of Saltillo
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Leaving Saltillo
GAS SCAM
It was on the highway north of Saltillo that we got snookered one last time. I stopped for fuel at a Pemex station, and I was descended upon by a pair of service station attendants working as a team. One of them took my order, to “llenalo con magna,” (fill it with regular).
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He walked back to the pumps, while his partner distracted me, aggressively trying to sell me some sort of miracle fuel additive. Moments later, the first guy came back, sheepishly admitting to having made a mistake. He’d started to fill my tank with Premium, rather than Regular, and he claimed he’d already dispensed 200 Pesos worth before he realized his error. Did I want to fill it the rest of the way with Premium, or should he finish it off with Regular, and add the two totals together? I had him finish with Regular, and when my tank was full, he combined the two sales, and charged me for 22 gallons of gas. The only problem with that? I have an 18 gallon tank. It was obvious that most, if not all of that 200 Pesos showing on the Premium pump dial was left over from the previous customer’s transaction. By distracting me, they made sure I didn’t notice that the pump had NOT been reset back to zero.
This is an EXTREMELY common scam at Mexican gas stations, and this was the first and only time on our road trip that I got taken by it. The attendant “forgets” to reset the dials on the pump after the previous customer leaves. If you don’t notice, he’ll simply start fueling. Your total is inflated by the amount of the previous transaction, and the attendant slyly pockets the overcharge.
There is no self-service at Mexican gas stations. All fuel is dispensed by attendants who will also clean your windows, check your tire pressure, and perform other small services, a throwback to the good old days, before do-it-all-yourself became the standard. The honest pump jockeys will always point out the zeroes on the pump dial before they start fueling. “Cero cero!” (Zero zero!) is a phrase you hear almost every time you stop for gas; proof of the attendant’s good character.
MONCLOVA
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Monclova, Coahuila, steel smelters smoking away
We rolled into Monclova in late afternoon, and decided we’d gone far enough for the day. In 2015, the entire Estado of Coahuila was under a Level 3 advisory, so we were compelled to stick with the basic rules: don’t deviate from the main road, (MX-57), and don’t drive at night. The closer we got to the border, the more important those rules became. Monclova is an older Mexican City, but the infrastructure at its core is mostly modern and relatively new. We ended up at a boring, business class chain hotel called the Fiesta Inn, which set us back $82.00–the most expensive hotel charge on our entire month long road trip. Monclova is the steel capital of Mexico, so it’s the site of major industry that befouls the atmosphere even as it enriches the community.
FIESTA INN
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Centrally located, the Fiesta Inn had all the amenities you might expect at a business class hotel in the U.S. The clientele was mostly men in suits with Houston accents, transacting a bit of transnational business that most probably involved steel. (Duh!) All Mike and I needed was a place to sleep, and the Fiesta Inn served that purpose well enough.
<<CLICk HERE>> for more information on Fiesta Inn
We were 150 miles from the border, which was three hours of driving, barring any delays. I was excited to be going home, and, at the same time, sad to be leaving Mexico. I would have loved to have kept traveling longer, but Michael had to get back, and when you got down to it, so did I. Since my retirement, a few short months earlier, I’d spent more time in my Jeep than I had in my house. It was past time for me to settle down and get my life organized.
We had some sort of mediocre Mexican food at the hotel, and crashed early, resting up for the last big push!
DAY 27:
From: MONCLOVA
To: PIEDRAS NEGRAS, EAGLE PASS, AND AUSTIN
THE END OF THE ADVENTURE!
We hit the road right after breakfast. I was a little nervous about the border crossing, remembering the old days, when it was not uncommon for U.S. Customs to literally dismantle a vehicle returning from an extended stay in Mexico, seeking spaces where contraband might be hidden. Being respectable (ahem) Senior Citizens, we weren’t likely to raise any red flags, and we most certainly weren’t carrying anything that might get us in trouble. Even so, I was looking forward to putting the border behind us.
Our last 150 miles was pure Chihuahuan desert, part of the largest desert in North America. It Isn’t as lush as the Sonoran desert in Arizona, but it’s still familiar terrain. The arid landscapes of the western U.S. will always feel like home to me.
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PIEDRAS NEGRAS
The miles passed quickly, and, and almost before we knew it, we were exiting the Toll Road in Piedras Negras.
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Piedras Negras Toll Plaza
Down in Piedras Negras, you gotta watch yourself; There’s a whole lotta hungry people, lookin’ to share some wealth…
Aside from that brief mention in the song “Safe Side,” by James McMurtry, Piedras Negras is perhaps best known as the birthplace of the Nacho. For us, on that November day in 2015, it was simply the safest alternative for exiting Mexico, and returning to the U.S.A.
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Piedras Negras Street Sign
When we first entered Mexico, 27 days earlier, we secured a Temporary Import Permit (a T.I.P.), which granted me permission to drive my foreign-plated vehicle beyond the free zone while traveling in Mexico as a tourist. To obtain the permit, I had to post a $400 cash bond, in the form of a $400 charge on my Visa credit card. You get that money back when you leave Mexico and cancel your T.I.P. They simply reverse the original charge.
If you fail to cancel your T.I.P. before leaving Mexico, you’ll lose more than just your $400 deposit. They will also cancel your insurance, and you’ll be prohibited from using the Temporary Import Permit program to bring any other vehicles into Mexico in the future.
Banjercito is the military bank that handles the permit fees and deposits for all vehicles imported under this program. I paid my $400 at their branch in Nuevo Laredo, with the understanding that I’d be able to get my money refunded at any Banjercito branch that was within 50 miles of the border. As it happened, they had a branch right near the foot of the bridge in Piedras Negras, one of several government offices located in a distinctive round building.
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Signs directed me to park in a special lot off to the right, and there were additional signs identifying a sidewalk leading to the building entrance. There were just two people ahead of us, so we only had to wait about five minutes. That was quite a difference from our experience in Nuevo Laredo, where lines were long, and every aspect of the process took forever.
A young woman seated at a desk reviewed my paperwork, then accompanied me outside to where my Jeep was parked. She double-checked the V.I.N. # of my vehicle, and then she scraped off the window decal, using a razor blade scraper. Back inside the building, she ran my credit card to reverse the charge on my $400 deposit–and that was that. She wished us a “Buen viaje,” and we were free to leave.
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Satellite view of the bridge over the Rio Grande at Piedras Negras, Coahuila
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Customs Inspection, Eagle Pass. Texas
There was no reason to delay any further, so we followed the signs toward Eagle Pass. A short bridge crossed the river (the storied Rio Grande), and led directly to the Inspection lanes for U.S. Customs and Border Patrol. We presented our passports to an inspector in a glass booth, and answered a few questions about where we’d been. All I had to declare was a hat and a T-shirt, Mike had the same, plus a few “Day of the Dead” souvenirs. The guy in the booth said, “Welcome back to the U.S.,” and waved us on, without even bothering to check our luggage, much less any of the hidden spaces in my vehicle.
Eagle Pass was a quiet little border town when we passed through it, but that was ten years ago, all the way back in 2015. More recently, Eagle Pass became synonymous with the worst aspects of the migrant crisis on our southern border. Thousands of people were crossing the river here every single day, creating an unprecedented humanitarian crisis on both sides of the border, straining local resources to the breaking point. In the last six months or so, those numbers have dropped to less than 5o people per day, a historic low, largely the result of policy changes and agressive enforcement.
We still had a four hour drive ahead of us, so we gassed up the Jeep (self service, naturally), ate fast-food hamburgers, and hit the road. We made it to Austin just in time to meet some friends for dinner. (Pizza, as I recall), and the next morning, I dropped Mike at the airport, in plenty of time to catch his flight.
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Mike and I had a blast on our Mexican Road Trip. Sure, there was the Officer Plata incident and the Zapatistas, and dozens of minor aggravations, but there were also fourteen sets of Mayan ruins, fabulous festivals in Merida and San Miguel, colonial cities galore, and all those wonderful mountain roads. Any regrets? Maybe one or two, but if I was ever given the chance, I’d do it all again, without a moment’s hesitation.
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about my Mexican Road Trip (and all those many hundreds of photographs!) The trip took place almost ten years ago, but I’ve done my best to make sure that the travel advice I presented is updated and current, especially as regards security. Some of the places we traveled to, like Bonampak and certain other parts of Chiapas, are no longer considered safe, while others, like the border state of Coahuila, are actually safer than they were in 2015. Cartel dominated areas, like Sinaloa, Michoacan, and certain parts of the Pacific coast are still best left off your itinerary.
If you’re the adventurous sort, and if what you’ve seen in this thread appeals to you, then by all means, you should consider a Mexican Road Trip. A compromise alternative to the lengthy trip I took would be a flight to Cancun, Merida, or San Miguel de Allende, along with a rental car for the highway travel. Any way you do it, Mexican Road Trips are amazing. If you do decide to go for it, by all means, keep us informed, and let us know how it went!
Rick, Although I haven't been commenting, I have been reading your travelogue with great interest. I almost feel as though I can say 'been there; done that' without having to actually do the planning or pay the price, but still experiencing all the little tidbits and immersion in another culture that such travel provides. Well done and thanks for taking all of us along on that, interesting shall we say, RoadTrip.
AZBuck
Thanks, Buck. I sincerely enjoyed writing that report. It gave me an excuse to go through all of my friend's video (not to mention all the still photos), and it was a bit like re-living the experience. I was happy to have brought you all along for the ride!
Rick
I loved this image and like AZBuck mentioned, I really loved the opportunity to travel virtually this way.Quote:
Originally Posted by Rick Quinn
Fantastic report.
Mark