San Cristobal Las Casas


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Published: August 8th 2002
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The streets of San Cristobal de Casas consisted of beautiful colonial buildings, attractive churches and a lively mix of different people. From tribes people from the villages, Mexicans of Spanish descent and many many tourists, travellers and holiday makers.

The overnight journey to San Cristobal had been one of the more tiring of those I've experienced, so a hotel with hot water was a top priority. We stayed in one of the nicest hotels yet, Hotel San Martin, even had a TV. Slept, catching up on sleep yet again. Had a "menu del dias" at a small authentic looking restaurant, most of the food seemed to be bean based, refried beans as a side order and a red bean sauce - I'm getting a little sick of Mexican food now. The Mexican food back home in Old Spittlefield Market has so much more flavour. Here, the food is basically quite bland, you add jalapenos to liven things up. I'm sick of jalapenos.

Day 2.

The previous night we'd been handed a leaflet advertising horse riding trips to the small villages. It included a map, so laundry in hand we headed out to find somewhere that would wash our stinking clothes, and had plenty of time to find the restaurant, the Maya Pakal, that the tour departed from. The laundrette was closed, and the street that the map indicated that the restaurant would be located on showed no sign. The street was named Francis de Leon (or something close), no restaurant. With about 2 mins to go I realised that there was another street named Francis de Leon de Madras, which was where the restaurant was located. We made it in time.

The small woman running the tour spoke quickly in Spanish at us, "no entiendo" - I don't understand, again. Fortunately she knew one word of English - "horses" - this cleared things up right away. She hailed cabs with the tourists well out of sight, to get a better price, and we were taken to the outskirts of the city. The impressive colonial architecture gave way to single story, dwellings with walls of breeze blocks and tiled roofs, for the lucky ones, tin for the others. Though quite a few had satellite dishes.

The riders included 4 female Dutch anthropoligists (Carina and friends), 2 Austrians guys (Oliver and Chistophe), 1 German girl (Julia) and an English couple (Victoria and Kieth). Victoria was an impressive 6' 2" in her socks, Kieth 6' 3", the average Mexican man being about 5' 6" meant that out here they were real life giants, the attracted many stares. Hell out here even I feel tall. I didn't really notice how tall either of the couple were until I noticed the reactions of the locals.

The stables were clean and the ponies looked well. They all looked too small. We were asked how much riding we had done before, I said a bit, most others had done none. The pony selected for me was pretty small compared to the left, but the guide assured me that it was a good pony and I wouldn't break it. True enough on 1.5 hrs ride up the mountain to the village, my little pony proved to be fiery, feisty, quick to gallop, ready to follow my directions, and unhappy unless at the front of the group. Reena's pony was docile, happy to be at the back of the group and unwilling to travel any faster than a walk. I'm glad I got the smallest horse.

On arrival at the village, I was surprised to note that although the villagers wandered around in traditional garb, the houses had electricity, running water and satellite television. We were accosted by a group of young girls, budding entrepreneurs, selling small bracelets, "dos por cinco", and "un foto, solo dos peso".

The village itself was very geared up to the tourist trade, unwilling to haggle much. Too many tourists. The church was pretty, but I didn't bother to go inside.

On the way back down to San Cristobal, the guide a young man in his early twenties, stopped jumped off his pony, walked over to a stream filled his hat with water and placed it on his head. The pony in the meantime had made its escape, running up the hill to find a less arduous living in the mountains. My pony was raring to go... a quick kick to the side and I was galloping after the escapee, the guide also had now seen the event and was running around the base of the trail to intercept the pony on its descent. I caught up with the pony leaned over and grabbed the reins. My saddle then slipped around my pony and I jumped off, saddle, halfway around my horse, two reins and ponies nearly under my control. The guide caught up and was glad to have his pony back, but annoyed to have to fix my saddle. The pony probably did this everyday,

After the horse riding, we were given Melon and Papaya by the stable owners. Chatting with the other tourists after the trek led to an arrangement to meet for the evening. The other tourists were all European, 4 dutch Anthropology students (girls) - Carina was one of them but I didn't get the other names, 2 Austrian Guys Christophe and Oliver and an English couple - Victoria 6' 2'. Kieth 6' 3'. Out here with the average height being 5'5", they were giants.

We moved hotel, did the laundry, visited a church, just as it closed. The new hotel was the worst I've stayed in. It was very cheap, but the water was cold, the bed uncomfortable, the room was full of ants and a dog kept leaving mess in the courtyard - just outside our room. I won't put the name here. Shame as the landlady was really friendly.

At 8pm we met our new friends from the pony trekking. No one really new any good bars, so I volunteered to find one. The criteria for a good bar when travelling is a cheap one. I ran around San Cristobal looking for a cheap and acceptable bar. My pigeon Spanish got me the prices in 6 bars. Eventually I found two that were cheap enough, $1 a bottle, or $2.50 a litre. We went for the litre. The club slash bar I had selected had a really great feel to it. I wish I had the name... I'll never make a travel writer like this, I'll start taking notes. The chairs were built for midgets, literally 1ft high, with tiny little tables. The music was some kind of Gregorian chanting with dance beat backgrounds, combined with the candlelight the club was really atmospheric. Too many beers - all in one litre buckets and straws. Didn't feel great at the end of the evening.

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