Introduction:
Lived four years in Canada, one year in Japan. Third most-traveled country is Mexico, at six months. It’s civil, temperate winter weather, affordable, and available professional services.
Yucatan Peninsula:
WED 01/25: water taxi from Caye Caulker Belize to Chetumal Mexico, arriving at sunset; much easier to coordinate than trying to cross the land border. Two nights in the area, time to stop at the bank and purchase onward bus ticket. US dollar is weaker than one year ago; 18 pesos to the dollar; last year was 21-22 pesos, likely impacted by inflation, too.
FRI 01/27: was going to walk to bus terminal; started raining and had to switch to a taxi en route. Backpack is water resistant, but not water proof, and didn’t want to damage its contents. Plan to get a backpack cover in April for summer travel. Five-hour bus trip to Playa del Carmen; some local flooding in the area as the cold front passed through; shoes are soaked; smell like wet dog.
SAT 01/28: early morning ferry to Cozumel; water was rough as the cold front moved offshore; watched the horizon to avoid becoming sea sick. Dropped off backpack at hostel, and went into town to rent small motorcycle for the day, 110cc Honda Navi for $20; motorcycle and rider weighed less than 350-pounds.
SUN 01/29: early morning ferry back to Playa del Carmen; dropped off backpack at hostel; explored beach and pedestrian mall; brief period of heavy rain in the afternoon.
MON 01/30: quiet morning; walked to colectivo terminal; took one-hour van south to Tulum. Only one tourist onboard; get my fill of authentic Mexican music on the radio, tuba, trumpet, accordion, and percussion. Purchase onward bus ticket to Valladolid. Check into hostel; sun and heat are too intense to be outdoors. After visiting Tikal, choose not to visit the Mayan ruins. Also pass on visiting the local cenotes, limestone swimming holes. They are expensive here, and there are more reasonable cenotes outside Valladolid. Sometimes wonder if high tourist fees are a “stupid” tax, difficult to justify. Tulum feels like a low-rent version of Playa del Carmen; not saying much, as Playa del Carmen’s veneer is pretty thin.
WED 02/01: two-hour bus ride from Tulum to Valladolid, time zone change from eastern to central standard time. There is a woman in the bus station, she looks like an American, looks like the sun hasn’t been kind to her. Looks like she slept in the bus station last night; there’s a blanket next to her. She’s not dirty, she’s not begging; she’s quiet, keeps to herself, doesn’t bother anyone. Other than the blanket, there is no evidence of any personal belongings. She looks distant and remote; what is she thinking.
Valladolid is a nice town, it has character; there is a central park with a fountain; pastel colored buildings, narrow streets. Frida Kahlo’s image appears everywhere, in store fronts, on a t-shirt, in a hostel painting – smoking a cigarette in one hand, and holding a cup of coffee in the other hand – even Catrina – style Frida. Rent a bicycle in the morning, and visit three cenotes, water-filled, limestone sinkholes. There is a gravel bike lane, which keeps me from being hit by a car. I’m wearing shorts, blinding the locals with my Day-Glo, pasty white chicken legs. It’s hot and humid in the afternoon, sun is terribly intense. There is a tailor nearby; for $2, he replaces the zipper on the leather case for my double-edged safety razor.
FRI 02/03: three-hour bus ride from Valladolid to Merida. Passed construction for the 950-mile Maya Train, which passes through multiple states on the Yucatan peninsula. Project completion in 2024 for $20-billion. Purchased onward bus ticket to Campeche before leaving the terminal.
On travel days, it feels like I’m constantly touching myself. Locals must wonder why the gringo is always feeling himself; bottom left leg (passport), bottom right leg (vaccination card, bus ticket), upper left pocket (iPhone), upper right pocket (cash and credit card); in crowded markets, my left hand is almost always on my iPhone.
Visited free zoo in center of the city; there were more concession stands and rides than animals. Walking through the city, recognize the privilege to be born and raised in the United States, otherwise, likely that I would be undereducated and underemployed. While traveling, recognize the need for access to clean drinking water, sanitary sewer, and access to healthcare.
Visited small, local art gallery; art restoreth my soul. Went into the market to purchase some dried hibiscus flowers (flor de jamaica) to make tea; market was crowded, crush of people that quickly drains my energy. Sights and smells from the meat market (carniceria) is overwhelming; floor is wet, combination of blood, bleach, and water; hold my breath and avert my eyes; spectacle would likely convert the staunchest carnivore into a vegetarian, or heaven forbid, a vegan. Who suggested that a slaughterhouse should have glass walls.
MON 02/06: finally woke up after a good night of sleep, feel human. Hostel had bugs, practically ate me alive. No malice, it happens, even in the best of hotels. Three-hour bus ride to Campeche, breaks up the long ride to Palenque. Walk from bus station into centro was depressing and discouraging. Entered the ancient fortress wall that protects the city, and an amazing transformation; narrow cobblestone streets, pastel painted buildings, and historic architecture. Waves from the Gulf of Mexico crash along the malecon, which must be ground zero during the protracted hurricane season. Heat and humidity are intense; can only imagine what the weather must be like in summer.
Staying in hostels is not the Four Seasons; no sipping coffee on a balcony wearing a plush terry cloth robe. Sometimes, feel the raw, gritty emotions, and find that it’s better to embrace and endure, than to bury and ignore; feelings often subside, hopefully.
Many stores and businesses were closed Monday, Constitution Day, federal holiday. On Tuesday, small victory, purchased onward bus ticket from Puerto Escondido to Acapulco at a local travel agent for $2 service fee. It’s a thin route, with just two trips per day; at ten hours, my preference was to travel at night. I’m nowhere near a ticket office, and it’s not possible to buy tickets on-line without a Mexican credit card.
There is a notable Mennonite population in Campeche, 10,000 locally, 100,000 throughout Mexico, most relocated from Manitoba Canada. Gentlemen wear bib overalls, plaid shirts, and cowboy hats; women wear dark dresses and bonnets.
Make dinner at the hostel, pretty simple; add diced habanero pepper. Didn’t think much of it, fingers burning, rub hands in olive oil, doesn’t help. Don’t have rubbing alcohol, use hand gel, doesn’t help. Bedtime approaches, I have to remove my contact lens, and I’m about to pay dearly. Remove my contacts, my eyes burn and water; it’s five minutes before I re-open my eyes; throw the contact lens away.
WED 02/08: 11:00am bus, six-hour ride to Palenque; bathroom started to smell, like a porta-potty on a hot summer day. Purchased onward ticket to Tuxtla Gutierrez, checked into hostel, just one block away. Guests are asked to wear paper wristbands, like at a night club or hospital; I call them prison wristbands; don’t like wearing them. Hostel has an on-demand generator, fires up frequently during the evening, I lose count.
It’s hot and humid, fatigued from traveling. Should have spent three days in the area, not two; sometimes I get the timing right, sometimes not; stay in Merida was one-day too many. Considered taking colectivo to visit the waterfalls, it’s a three-hour round-trip on a twisting, mountain road that would make a billy goat puke. Some days, it’s not about seeing a tourist site, it’s about doing laundry, and the simple pleasure of clean clothes.
FRI 02/10: route from Palenque to San Cristobal de las Casas appears on the map to be short, but bus takes the long route, due to the twisting, mountain roads, traveling through Villahermosa and Tuxtla Gutierrez, the capital of Chiapas. It’s eight hours on the bus, and I choose to get off at Tuxtla, and take a break, rather than continue on to San Cristobal; don’t mind visiting non-tourist cities.
Bus stops in the middle of nowhere for lunch. I have a street taco with great flavor, even with its near-nuclear salsa. I have a migraine “near miss.” I’m able to control the pain, and remain functional, but terribly close call. I ate an avocado the day before, a known migraine trigger; won’t do that again.
Wake up in the morning without an alarm, no migraine, no headache, side-stepped a landmine. Cold front passes through, light drizzle, clouds burn off to sunshine, church bells ring in the distance. Tuxtla sits in a valley, half-mile above sea level.
Fatigued from lack of freedom to move from point A to point B independently, to stop driving, and pull over when I see something interesting. Walk, bicycle, motorcycle, or perhaps, to quote Shakespeare, “a horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.”
Walk through the city; buy Chiapas coffee from an independent merchant. He’s kind, wants to talk; there are few tourists here. He grinds the beans; it’s difficult to get good coffee in the supermarket, most of the good coffee is exported. Make a fresh cup of coffee when I return to the hostel, pour-over, using a “sock” filter. It’s fantastic.
Strolling through town, find a barber on the outskirts, fifth in line for $2 haircut. He’s young, but good; you can tell that he cares about providing a good haircut. I ask him to cut my hair very short (muy corto), shaved bald; will take longer to grow out. He oils the clippers, they are sharp, they don’t pull or tug. Afterwards, he uses a straight-blade to trim my neck, and oils my scalp. I look almost as good as Telly Savalas, “who loves ya, baby.”
There is an overwhelming amount of manual labor in Mexico; people dig ditches by hand, what could be done with heavy equipment in less than a day. GDP per capita is $20,000 in Mexico; $52,000 in Canada, $70,000 in United States (purchasing power parity | PPP).
SUN 02/12: morning bus, 90-minutes, to San Cristobal de las Casas. 7,000 feet elevation, switched from palm trees to evergreens, temperature is 15-degrees cooler (70 during the day, 45 at night). Clothing is different here, no more white dresses with colorful accents; dresses are black, but with similar colorful accents.
Street markets are crowded, everyone is out weekend shopping. One merchant has small stuffed animals lined up on the sidewalk, I watch as a small lion falls over, and I’m reminded of the days when I was satisfied with a simple, stuffed animal; those days no longer exist. Parents got me a small stuffed lamb when I was four-years old; entered the hospital to have drainage tubes inserted into my ears; my favorite stuffed animal; still in my possession.
Central Pacific Coast:
TUE 02/14: spent the afternoon at Starbucks in San Cristobal, awaiting overnight bus to Puerto Escondido. Women enter the store selling trinkets; children enter the store begging for pesos. Starbucks is busy on Valentine’s Day; star-crossed lovers enter the store with flowers and chocolate.
I’m twice reminded about the newly-issued Mexico travel warnings by the State Department. I review the warnings, they don’t appear different from previous warnings. In the United States, a person may be gunned down at a Wal-Mart in El Paso (sentenced 2/8), gunned down at a Tops supermarket in Buffalo (sentenced 2/15), gunned down at Michigan State University (incident 2/13), or gunned down in K-12 public schools. Please remind me which country is more dangerous?
Struck by food poisoning before boarding overnight bus; graphic details are shared in The Daily, Wednesday March 1st 2023, titled “terminal too.”
It’s a thirteen-hour ride to Puerto Escondido. I’m sitting in seat four, birds-eye view of the road. The on-coming tractor trailers have more flashing lights than a security guard, wanna-be police officer.
I make it down to the beach the following day. I don’t feel well, no energy, and the four-mile round-trip walk isn’t easy. Once I reach the beach, I lay down on a park bench in the shade. People walk by, no one asks, “are you okay.” Probably just wondering why someone threw away a perfectly good American.
SAT 2/18: I wait at the second-class bus terminal. It’s hard to get comfortable, the seats are broken, and I’m still not well. Men are sleeping on the ground, waiting for the midnight bus to Mexico City. Bus arrives late, late is better than cancelled. It’s a new bus, but it’s full, people are standing in the aisles. It’s a ten-hour ride to Acapulco. The coastline is less attractive than what a person would imagine, rural and poor. There’s a notable population of African-Mexicans in the region, which make up 1% of the country’s population.
Exit central bus terminal, continue to feel un-well; find a medical clinic, and visit the doctor. Introduction to Acapulco is underwhelming; it’s dirty, it smells; sun is hot and intense. Step into a Burger King, and unintentionally doze off in the corner. No hostels, check into AirBnB.
MON 2/20: break five-day fast with mushroom quesadilla, before boarding 9:00am, second-class bus for 150-mile drive north to Zihuatanejo, only one tourist on board. Zihua is a reference to the 1994 film, Shawshank Redemption.
“Tell you where I’d go. Zihuatanejo. Mexico. Little place right on the Pacific. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They say it has no memory. That’s where I’d like to finish out my life. A warm place with no memory. Open a little hotel right on the beach. Buy some worthless old boat and fix it up like new. Take my guests out charter fishing.”
Arrive 3:00pm, hostel is located right on the bay, otherwise, it’s a dump. Treat myself to chilaquiles for dinner, my favorite comfort food, and listen to ocean waves crash upon the shore while falling asleep. My preferred destinations have no pressure for tourist sight-seeing; I feel no guilt if I choose to hang out with the locals and watch life slowly un-fold. Nearby town of Ixtapa, which houses the big resorts, lies just a few kilometers west of Zihua,
Don’t fit in at the hostel; not cool enough, not mellow or laid-back enough, didn’t smoke enough, drink enough, or do enough drugs. I have enough challenges without drugs. Don’t mind if you want to smoke marijuana, but don’t want to smell it, any more than I want to smell cigarette or cigar smoke.
Completed five-hour on-line motorcycle training; course was well done, learned a lot, and didn’t mind the time commitment. Even when sitting in the shade, doing nothing, the weather is hot and sticky; I feel sandy-coated (not candy-coated); likely gather no sympathy from those experiencing winter weather.
THU 2/23: 15-hour overnight bus from Zihua to Puerto Vallarta. Contemplated not taking this bus and detour through Guadalajara. Local highway 200 is not a toll road; some of these buses are hijacked and passengers robbed. Further, the road is loaded with switchback curves, making it a dangerous drive at night. Dropped off at central bus terminal, effortless transfer to a one-hour colectivo to nearby Sayulita, beach town just north of Punta Mita.
SAT 2/25: 90-minute colectivo from Sayulita to Puerto Vallarta; drop off backpack at the hostel and explore the city. Next morning, pre-dawn run along the malecon, to beat the heat, humidity, and intense sun. Running is free, it makes my day, and starts the day right.
Visited more than 40 Mexican cities and towns (2015, 2022, 2023). Puerto Vallarta may be the most open, and LGBTQIA-friendly that I have visited. Bare-chested male couples hold hands, some wear matching shirts and shorts that would blend into the busiest wallpaper, others wear short-shorts that would embarrass Will Ferrell. When I check into the hostel, the male receptionist winks at me; does he know something that I do not.
MON 2/27: Six miles to the central bus terminal, too far to walk. $10 Uber or $0.50 local bus; I take the bus, it’s a 30-minute ride. Arrive at the bus terminal early enough to look for a nearby food vendor, get $1 taco or torta, enough to curb hunger. Street vendors laugh at me; it’s okay; I’d laugh at me, too.
Inside the terminal, several travelers have narrow cardboard boxes, stuffed with live chickens. Boxes are small enough to keep the animal calm; it’s quiet, except for a few periodic clucks.
There is no direct bus for the eight-hour trip from Puerto Vallarta to Mazatlán. Today, travel four-hours to Tepic, capital of Nayarit State; Tuesday, will continue on to Mazatlán.
TUE 2/28: wake up with headache; air quality is poor, high winds blowing sand and wildfire smoke. First class bus departs 7:00am, four-hour trip to Mazatlán, Sinaloa state, final beach resort before heading north towards Texas.
Bus is pulled over at Villa Union, just outside Mazatlán; tractor trailers pass by; five first class tour buses in a column. As bus comes to a stop, watch agents tear apart the interior of a passenger car. Federal Police look in the bus baggage compartment, for drugs perhaps. No. Agents step on the bus; recognize almost immediately that something isn’t right. Passenger body language becomes tense. I get out my passport, but it’s not an ID check. Agents are aggressive and intimidating, lean-in towards each passenger and extort money in broad daylight. How much do you pay? How much do you have? There is no one sitting next to me; when the agents see my US passport, they pass by without saying a word. Agents backslap each other as they step off the bus with a colorful wad of pesos. Maybe they need the money. Passengers are middle-class Mexicans; they have been victimized and violated; feel sorry for them. After emotions calm down, talk with the Mexican sitting across from me; he tells me that this happens all the time; passengers pay, or get removed from the bus and detained. Sinaloa Cartel is considered the largest and most powerful drug trafficking organization in the Western Hemisphere. It’s possible that the extortion was in concert with the cartel, likely clearing $5,000 per hour. Welcome to Mazatlán.
Cost:
Mexico travel costs are higher than one-year ago. US dollar is down against the peso over prior year, combined with aggressive inflation. Also traveling on the bus more frequently.
Lodging: $372 total | $13 day
Transportation: $338 total | $12 day
Food: $50 total | $2 day
Other: $29 total | $1 day ($10 prescription | $3 doctor)
Total: $788 total (Feb) | $28 day (Feb)
Cumulative: $1,897 | $30 day | 63-days | $11,000 annualized
Anticipate that travel this summer will be more expensive; lodging expense could be up to four times higher. Arabian Peninsula is very expensive, there is simply no way to mitigate; expect to be in the region for thirty days.
Notes:
Mexico has a first class bus system, with on-line schedules, and reservation system. Foreign travelers cannot book on-line, but may use a credit card at the bus terminal. Foreign travelers may book on-line at clickbus.com, site typically includes $5 surcharge. Unless it’s Easter or Christmas, advance bus tickets aren’t necessary, just one or two days is fine.
I’ve had success making hostel reservations on Booking.com; good inventory, good rates, no added fees, and often times, don’t need a credit card to pay or hold the reservation. Prefer using this site over Hostelworld.com.
My friend, Jani, would prefer that I travel without advance plans. Don’t schedule the next hostel or the next bus until ready to move-on; not quite there yet, mentally. I only booked out one week in advance on this trip.
At this point, I’ve visited all of Mexico, with the exception of the east coast, which flanks the Gulf of Mexico, and the cities of Monterrey, Tampico, and Veracruz; next time.
My palate is simple, comfort food: elote, or street corn, chilaquiles, tortillas drowned in green or red salsa, topped with refried beans, avocado, cheese, and a sunny-side egg; other than being salty, could eat every day. Also enjoy tlayuda, which resembles a pizza served on a crispy tortilla, a local dish, available in Oaxaca state.
Continue to walk five miles per day; another 150-miles in February; 300-miles trip-to-date. Despite road hazards, I am running more often; incorporating many running drills, which seems to mitigate soreness and injury, followed by a cold shower.
Conclusion:
Enjoyed traveling through Mexico this year, haven’t become bored moving more frequently, unlike last year. Have also enjoyed staying at hostels, the additional social interaction goes a long way to minimize feelings of isolation.
garthmonroe 