Introduction: over time, accumulate seven months travel in Mexico, one of my favorite countries; temperate weather, kind citizens, and affordable. From Mexico City, travel north along the gulf coast, the last region of Mexico that I have yet to explore.
Mexico’s formal name, the United Mexican States (Estados Unidos Mexicanos), includes 31 states and the autonomous region of Mexico City (Ciudad de Mexico).
Walk across the International Bridge from Nuevo Laredo to Laredo Texas, and share time with friends in Austin and Houston, before visiting family in Connecticut.
Last visited Puebla in 2022, UNESCO world heritage site, known for its blue and white Talavera pottery and tiles. Visit the city’s historic aqueducts, which lead underground to the forts of Loreto and Guadalupe, where Mexico defeated French troops on 5 May 1862, celebrated each year as Cinco de Mayo.
WED 02 April: walk two-miles to CAPU bus terminal; as charming as Puebla, the walk is discouraging and desolate, like the backside of a Hollywood film lot. Day of mostly sitting; wait for the bus to depart, and four-hour ride to Veracruz, on the gulf coast.
Board the bus, stand behind a Canadian, who identifies himself as Jehovah’s Witness. He briefly preaches to me the gospel, and suggests that all of life’s answers are in the Bible. Wouldn’t that be great – all – of life’s answers. I am too polite to disagree or argue; quietly take my assigned seat, and pray, that he does not sit next to me.
Veracruz is 90-degrees, hot and humid, intense sun, day in the life of Mexico. AirBnB has wash machine, everything goes in, I wear only a towel and a smile. Could I place the entire world into the wash machine, and have it come out clean on the other side. Thursday, walk along the malecón, and explore, before it becomes too hot to endure.
FRI 04 April: four-hour bus from Veracruz to Poza Rica. Bus pulls into the bus terminal, ominous sense of dread, which does not improve walking to AirBnB in 100-degree scorching heat and mid-day sun. Travel five years, 65 of 200 countries, and I am not immune from dread. Struggle to find anything positive, except, Poza Rica breaks up the eight hour bus from Veracruz to Tampico. Once I surrender any expectations of Poza Rica, mind settles down, and finds peace. Saturday morning, sunrise run, before heat, sun, and traffic, become too intense.
SUN 06 April: pre-dawn, walk to Poza Rica bus station. Stopped by the police, maybe the gringo tourist sticks out in a city with no tourists. During the interrogation, wonder if they are crooked cops. They do not speak English; they inspect my passport and bus ticket, and depart as quickly as they arrived.
Cold front passes through, temperature drops 20-degrees. Smell change in the air, before I notice that it is raining, albeit, briefly.
Four-hour bus north to Tampico; exit the bus terminal, and greeted by a blast of wind to the face, and sand blast to the eyes. Travel days are often the worst. Airplanes are civil, buses not quite, but rather, rife with uncertainty. When experiencing a sensation, a bad feeling, I may double down, or let it go, let it be.
Sunrise, an uninspired morning run; run not because I want to, but because I should. Municipal park lies along a lagoon, run with other like-minded people. There are warning signs for the Morelet crocodile, which inhabits this Atlantic region of Mexico.
TUE 08 April: sunrise, there are no sidewalks, or, if there are sidewalks, they are cluttered and blocked. Find myself walking in the street, towards the bus station, and try not to be hit by passing cars.
It is my final week in Mexico, following six months of travel, final week before returning to the United States. My patience is long ago spent and expired.
Four-hour bus north to Ciudad Victoria; travel does not get better, it only becomes different. Terrain gradually changes, sub-tropical morphs into arid; the city lies in the foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range.
Before departing bus terminal, print onward bus ticket to Monterrey. Earlier today, eTicket would not scan, and don’t want to get stuck here any longer than necessary.
AirBnB is located on a dirt road, one block behind the main street; it is quiet, hear chirping birds. Don’t see any tourists; locals drive by, and shout at me.
THU 10 April: it is easy to travel to glossy, tourist places; it is more difficult to travel between the non-tourist places, the gritty and mundane. Walk to Ciudad Victoria bus station; agent volunteers to change my ticket for the earlier 8am departure. Seated on the left side of the bus, and treated to views of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range, and it only becomes more spectacular on the approach to Monterrey.
Arrive in Monterrey station after four hours; stop at the ticket counter, and request printed onward ticket. Scheduled to depart Saturday, but, there was a schedule change, and my ticket was changed to Sunday. Agent re-books ticket for Saturday, glad that I checked in advance. Not fatal, but really don’t like surprises.
Walk to hostel, it is hot, and drop off backpack. My friend, Roberto, from graduate school, picks me up, first visit with a friend in six months, and we share the afternoon together. He picks the venue and menu, superlative local food. It is a great afternoon; Roberto is well-rounded, intelligent, and thoughtful; we re-connect as if never separated by twenty years. Roberto reminds me that I live my life like no one else.
SAT 12 April: pre-dawn walk to bus station, en route, breakfast tacos, with hot sauce so hot that my eyes water. Tacos actually needed the hot sauce, they were not very good. One challenge, near the end of a journey, lose appetite; tired of eating the same foods, and no access to the foods that I want to eat.
Bus departs 7:30am, and arrives Nuevo Laredo at mid-day, taking into account, the time zone change. En route, pass a tractor trailer that is split open, sliced open like a flimsy cardboard box, spitting out its contents on to the highway below.
Bus is delayed clearing the toll plaza, I cringe when the bus stops, and wonder if the Federal Police are going to board, and rob passengers, similar to my experience traveling by (first class) bus to Mazatlán in 2023.
It is a short walk from bus terminal to AirBnB. Some people try to pass through border towns as quickly as possible, but I stay overnight, and wonder what is here, and wonder if I may tolerate the discomfort and ambiguity.
Believe that Mexico is a good retirement strategy for Americans that seek a temperate winter climate. Nice people, fair weather, affordable, good public transportation, and good medical care; Oaxaca and Guadalajara jump to the top of the list.
Would like to ride motorcycle through Mexico, freedom of movement, freedom from the bus. Likely need to build more experience riding in United States and Alaska. BMW is launching 450cc single cylinder adventure bike this fall; not too big, not too small.
SUN 13 April: depart AirBnB, take trash with me, similar to camping, leave no trace.
Cross to the other side, so to speak, Nuevo Laredo to Laredo, two-mile walk. In past years, crossed from Tijuana to San Diego, and Juarez to El Paso. I have traveled to more corners of Texas than most (native) Texans. Pedestrian toll is 5 pesos ($0.25 USD), lucky for me, I still have 7 pesos in my pocket, else, stuck on the bridge.
Border crossing is mostly underwhelming, neither detained, nor subject to tariff. Present my passport and Global Entry card; CBP agent goes through my backpack, nothing to hide. Check into Laredo Mansion, waiting for me is an expedited Bank of America credit card, to replace my previous card that was “skimmed” in Mexico City.
Often wonder if I am more likely than not, to be stabbed, shot, or killed in the United States than overseas. During late January, there were multiple gun fights (shoot outs) in Nuevo Laredo; received email warning from US State Department. All I can recall is the movie quotation from Legend (2015):
I come here for a fucking shootout. A proper shootout with some proper men. Like Colonel Custer and Geronimo, you ever heard of them … you call yourself a fucking gangster. A SHOOTOUT, RIGHT, IS A FUCKING SHOOTOUT! Like a western.
MON 14 April: there are few travel options from Laredo to Austin. $350 United Airlines flight via Houston, $200 one-way rental car, or $50 five-hour Greyhound bus.
In the military, when honorably discharged, receive plane ticket to your home of record; if dishonorably discharged, receive bus ticket to your home of record.
Elect ignominious Greyhound bus, and imagine a scenario where the bus driver is doing shots of cough syrup, and slams into a light post, or careens off the highway in a spectacular crash. Journey is free from incident; pass through Buda Texas, the other Buddha, and I long for the days of a United States road trip in my own car.
Check into AirBnB, purchase groceries at HEB, a pretty decent Texas-based grocery store chain, and spend more in one day than I have spent on food in the past month.
Tuesday, eight-mile run along Lady Bird Lake, one of my favorite running places in the country. Might be the soothing sound of crunching gravel under my feet. Not a fast run, looks like many of the other runners are half my age. Wednesday, body is sore, don’t want to run, but, my favorite place, so, seven-mile run along Lady Bird Lake. Meet long-time friend, Kris, for an enjoyable holiday weekend in Austin.
SAT 19 April: today is a roll of the dice, FLIX bus, Austin to Houston, surprisingly, bus departs on-time with fifteen passengers. Drive south along Highway 71; region where I used to drive, now feels lonely. Feels like I should own a house, own a car, work a job, and behave more similar to normal people. Recall previous chapter in my life, a chapter, long since closed, and maybe, one that I did not appreciate enough. Visit long-time friends, Eric and Amy, Ted and Neide, Sonu and Bobby.
WED 23 April: twelve-hour travel day, mostly tedious and tiring; United Airlines to Newark (NYC), five hours, door-to-door. Newark Airport resembles a state of deconstruction, it takes 90-minutes and two buses to reach the train platform. Three trains to Connecticut, seven hours, door-to-door. There is a screaming toddler on the train; my patience is long expired. During past six months, walk more than 1,250-miles.
FRI 25 April – SUN 27 April: in August 2024, I was asked to write the campaign letter for the twentieth class reunion at University of Virginia, Darden School of Business. Rather than pen a generic letter, I wrote something personal and thoughtful, if not dark. I shared a draft letter with the University, and was informed that the letter needed to be pro-Darden and pro-business. Not wishing to endorse a disingenuous narrative, I agreed with the University that another individual should pen the letter, and subsequently rescinded a $500,000 gift to the university from my revocable living trust. Out of principal, cancelled my travel plans to Virginia; the letter is below.
Two years at Mr. Jefferson’s university: white columns, red bricks, case studies, learning teams, first coffee, and the dreaded cold call. Darden class of 2005, how fleeting has been the past twenty years.
Enjoyed Darden – but – too little learned too late. Any optimism and enthusiasm is long-since faded and tarnished. Made wealthy people wealthier, but don’t recognize success. Business world appears less interesting and more self-serving: ego, fame, and power. Perhaps what I see is a reflection of myself.
We live in a world that often juxtaposes trite platitudes from social and popular media, with half-truths from politicians, executives, and entertainers. Somewhere in between, there are enduring Sisyphean challenges and obstacles. How is truth ever recognized.
Shifting sands of time exposes fading certainties and festering doubts. I surrendered my career several years ago, to venture on a pilgrimage of sorts, and subsequently baked artisan bread in San Francisco, cloistered at a Zen Buddhist monastery, taught university accounting, and wandered the world.
Amidst uncertainty and doubt, I remained a community service volunteer for twenty years. Taught meditation to incarcerated people at Texas Department of Criminal Justice. Shared time with terminally ill patients at Houston Hospice Texas Medical Center, stark reminder that life does not include a guarantee. Our classmates, David Lauffer and Joe Miller, are dearly missed.
Ten years ago, I transferred my non-retirement assets to a revocable trust, which mitigates risk of probate court and risk of delayed gifts to beneficiaries upon death. Trust includes an unequivocal gift to Darden. I have long since forgotten what I learned in the Darden classroom, but I cherish the many friendships.
If you are exploring opportunities to give, please consider Darden. Planned gifts recorded during our reunion year are included in our reunion year giving totals, regardless of when the gift is realized by Darden.
Did not want to waste an opportunity to be un-guarded. Will likely regret not writing a more different letter, but prevented by my own intransigence. Does a principled person adhere to values, even when it hurts, or bend to popular opinion. To believe in anything is to believe in nothing. Willing to admit that the world does not make sense, or, willing to admit that I am not able to make sense of the world. I do not remember if Darden tolerates doubt and uncertainty. However, by willing to embrace darkness, perhaps, we may discover light and insight.
Best wishes, health, and happiness, to you, your family, and friends. I hope to see you in Charlottesville at the twentieth class reunion, Friday April 25th through Sunday April 27th 2025.
Where in the World: share time with family and friends in Connecticut, four weeks, followed by travel to Scandinavia and Baltic Europe, until 90-day Schengen visa expiry, followed by two months in United Kingdom. One flight, New York to Reykjavik, Iceland, and more boats: ferry from Iceland to Denmark via Faroe Islands, ferry from Bergen Norway to Svalbard, 400-miles from the North Pole, and Queen Mary 2 (recently ravaged by Norovirus) from Southampton England to New York on Halloween.
Cost: cumulative travel costs, during past 178-days.
Lodging: $2,831 total | $16 day
Transport: $5,460 total | $31 day (plane | train | bus | ferry | taxi)
Food: $472 total | $3 day
Other: $9,203 total | $52 day (FX | ATM | visa | tourism | RV & motorbike)
— Antarctica ($8,400 | ten-day expedition)
Total: $17,966 total | $101 day | $36,800 annualized
— Cash burn: $872 | $5 day (when credit card not accepted)
Spend more cash in Mexico than expected; credit card was compromised (skimmed).
Conclusion: return home to a damaged country. For now, I still recognize the United States, but, for how much longer. Country’s political divide is far more damaging than any war, or battle waged on its land. I wonder if the next time that I return to the United States, that it will no longer be a democracy. Is this the beginning of the end for the United States. Do I need to seek citizenship in another country.
If United States makes it difficult for non-Americans to visit the United States, foreign countries may do the same to Americans, quid pro quo. Perhaps the end of visa-free travel, the end of zero-cost visa, and the end of countries that do not want Americans or its tourist dollars; have we not become the ugly American.
As an American traveling overseas, I am the face of the United States, I am the face of foreign and trade policy, and I am embarrassed to be an American. Any goodwill generated by the United States, has long since evaporated. United States presents itself as a banana republic – a President elected by its foolish citizens – and perhaps, a fall from grace, no different from the Roman Empire. But, don’t accept my word, get your passport, travel outside North America, and see for yourself, with your own eyes.
garthmonroe 