Raymondo and Marseea's 2009 Mexico Trip

---

Saturday, March 14th. We are now in the city of Oaxaca at San Felipe Trailer Park in the hills above the city. Our host, Doug French is an American.

The past two days from San Cristobal de las Casas to Oaxaca (pronounced wa-HAH-ka) have been the most exhausting and frustrating days we have had on this entire trip. Our Church RVing Mexico guide said that it would be 357 miles and take 12 hours. Mike recommended we overnight in the city of Tehuantepec.

We were supposed to bypass the city of Tuxtla Gutierrez, a city of more than 500,000 people because it lacks any colonial buildings or interesting sights. However, we wound up nearly going thru the city center because we either missed a road construction detour or didn’t know where the heck we were going. After roaming around on the out skirts of town for at least half an hour a family in a little red car pulled up along side and a young man asked us, in perfect English, if we were lost and where did we want to go. We agreed that we were lost and told him where we wanted to go. He told us to follow him and he led us to the road we needed, pointed and waved. Other RVers have described similar experiences with local people, cops and even taxi drivers.

The hotel/camp ground, Hotel Calli in Tehuantepec, at which we had expected to stay, no longer welcomed RVers. A bell-hop or some such flunky rushed over to us to say “no servicio, no servicio”. We turned around and pulled into a corner of the driveway out the way of any possible traffic to gather our thoughts and consult our Church guide and map. This flunky again rushed up with his no servicio, no servicio. It seemed like he expected that his boss would beat the crap out of him if people like us were seen on their grounds.

The Churches had written that they had heard reports of a restaurant north of town between KM 218 and KM 219 that allowed RVers to park behind their place. This is where we spent the night. While I fed and watered Furgie, Ray ordered us cervezas and introduced himself to our very pregnant hostess/landlady Lupe and her sister Luz Del Carmen. Lupe speaks pretty good English but is to trying to improve. Her amiga (girl friend) had loaned her a copy of Spanish for Dummies - wrong way around we think - but it seems to be helping her as her English is better than our Spanish.

We chatted for a while and then Lupe asked if we wanted comida (to eat). Of course, we said “si” (yes). She offered carne de res (beef), puerco (pork) and pescado (fish). We went with the fish and asked for it frito (fried) as we thot that it would be the easiest way for her to prepare it. I didn’t think about asking for filete. Our fish arrived intact minus the inards. I cut off my head and took it back to the kitchen because I am squeamish about things on my plate looking back at me.

A little while later, Lupe sat down with us with a bowl of beans and my fish head on her plate. We shared the tortillas and beans she had given us and Ray gave her his fish head too. She devoured both and told us that she had caught the fish herself. We learned that Lupe is 26 and that she is expecting her first baby. The baby is due in May but may come a little earlier. She knows that it will be a nina (girl) and she will be named Maria. Lupe told us that baby will be born at home and that the doctor will charge 3000 pesos. “Mucho”? she asked. “Si”, I said. Actually, 3000 pesos is equivalent to 200 dollars but surely to her that represents a lot of money. After we ate, we continued to talk about ordinary stuff. Lupe has an amigo living in our home town of San Jose, California.

This morning we continued our Spanish/English chat over coffee. Lupe had already told us that she had been renting/managing the restaurant for six months. We showed her our Church guide which explained how we found her. She told us that eight other RVers had stopped there. We left a nice monetary gift for the baby and asked her if we could take a picture of her for our blog. Hopefully, this will encourage other RVers to stop here when traveling between Oaxaca and San Cristobal de las Casas. No services are offered but you do not have to get off the road. And, believe it or not, here in rural Mexico, Lupe told us that they had internet and gave us her e-mail address. We could not get a connection this a.m. but promised to e-mail her when our blog is up so that she can see her pretty face on the internet. She told us that being pregnant, she gets very calor (warm) so she was going fishing again and invited us to join her. We declined and said we had to get going but it was sweet of her to ask. Actually, we’re not sure of the fishing regulations but we are sure that we’d need some sort of license.

The road climbing over the Sierra Madre has been smooth but steep, narrow and windy (i.e. many tight curves). Thankfully, we had the inside lane most of the way. We shared the carretera (highway) with numerous trucks, busses and many speedy machismo drivers. There were numerous shrines dedicated to truckers who had, we assume, lost their lives going over this road. As we are now just about directly south of San Antonio, Texas, the area is very arid. Along the road, we have seen many saguaros and their organ pipe cactus cousins. Jacaranda trees are in bloom. They are everywhere, in people’s yards and growing wild along the roads. This past fall we replaced our mulberry tree with one of these lovely purple flowering trees. Thankfully, Jackie, as our tree is called, will not bloom until June. We expect to be home by May.

Yesterday, Friday March 13th, we were stopped by the Federales five or six times and inspected twice. The first inspection was the most thorough we ever have been thru. By now, of course, we’re used to these inspections. Normally, they just want see/inspect the camper but this time they wanted to inspect the truck too. We were both asked to get out. I held Furgie in my arms during the process. Of course, these men are just doing their jobs and we try to be friendly and cooperative. They are always interested in the camper and almost always asked Ray how much it cost. They usually pet Furgie and ask what her name is. Today, our inspector even asked how much she cost. Ray modestly understates the price of our camper and I too, understated Furgie’s value. Apparently, our Federale had never seen a GPS because he asked if it was a camera. I tried to explain and showed him my little Canon camera. He was familiar with the brand and asked what it cost. Again, I understated. We never get the impression that these guys are envious or resentful, just curious. In fact, people on the street seldom even seem to notice us passing by but I can just imagine how overwhelmed the Federales are when they go through these $250,000 rigs that some norteamericanos bring down here. Since our camper cost less than our 2004 Dodge dually and many Mexicans do own new trucks and SUVs, they probably can see themselves one day having a similar rig.

At a gap in the mountains, in an area called El Istmo (the Isthmus de Tehuantepec) where Mexico is at it narrowest, we were warned of high winds up to 50 mph which sometimes cause RV awnings to deploy. Fortunately, the winds were light and we didn’t have any problems but the locals are taking advantage of the winds by creating wind farms like the Altamont pass in northern California.

Along the road, yesterday, we observed a phenomenon that we never expected to see in Mexico - a crew out picking up trash. We did not come here to be judgmental or to compare a third world country with the U.S. but we cannot understand this willy-nilly dumping of basura (trash) everywhere. Full disclosure here, although our home town of San Jose is one of the richest cities in the country, our freeways are the filthiest we’ve ever seen anywhere else in the U.S. and Canada. Though some cities like San Cristobal do have crews out sweeping and cleaning all the time, for the most part trash along the roads near villages is atrocious. Here, in Mexico, litter is almost everywhere. We understand that that there is no city trash pick up like we all take for granted. Sometimes we do see families raking and burning their trash along the road. A government funded recycling program would take care of a lot of this mess as much of the trash seems to be plastic bottles.

The main agriculture in this region seems to be blue agave. If you know what production of this plant yields, raise your hand, tequila! Agave cactus is grown practically everywhere from steep hillsides to family farms. Here, typically, they produce a beverage called mezcal. Wikipedia describes how mezcal is different from the more common tequila. We passed many private distilleries producing mezcal. In fact, our landlord, Doug, at San Felipe Trailer Park, our current campground, has a nice crop of agave plants and a test distillery on site. Doug told Ray that he has 20 plots, about half of which he owns, the others he share crops. He sells under the brand name of Scorpion. He is not licensed to sell in Mexican stores. All of his product is exported. Hopefully, we will be able to find some when we get home. We had hoped to buy a couple bottles from Doug to share with our American Legion amigos but he was not around when we left.

We had a hell of a time finding this place. We tried to ask several people for directions but couldn’t find anybody who spoke English. I even tried to hire a cab driver to lead us here but he did not know of the place either. For the first time since we’ve been in Mexico, we broke out our cell phone. Our call went thru immediately but our landlady couldn’t even give us directions from the historic church a few blocks away. We did somehow find the place and it is a good thing that I’m not afraid of large dogs. Entering the grounds, there is sign saying to ring the bell and wait. Moments later three big dogs came running and barking to greet us. They were soon followed by our landlady, Coy, who unlocked the gate and restrained two of the dogs. The other one ran out to greet a pack of his friends across the street but soon returned and I locked the gate after Ray drove thru while Coy hung onto her other two dogs. As we are on a hilltop, we get a cool breeze, the showers are hot, we have wifi and Doug only charges 100 pesos a day.

Our bad luck continued today, Sunday. We caught the bus into town and as luck would have it, we took the wrong bus home. We had asked the first two busses that passed if they were coming up here and were told no. The third driver seemed to agree so we got on. He did not stop where we expected so we had a very long hike down one hill and up another to get back to our campground.

The walk around town was mostly uneventful. We wandered through a few churches and got familiar with the layout of the city. We tried mezcal in a bar that dates from 1919. To me, it tasted more like a mild whiskey but with a liqueur flavor. Oaxaca is known for its cuisine. In fact, my guide books and magazine articles compare this city to Paris and San Francisco for good eating. We had delicious pescado dinners at a sea food place, called Marco Polo recommended by our Let’s Go. My a la talla consisted of a very large filet with muy picante sauce. Ray’s had the horno, which was also a large filet in a chipotle sauce. Both were cooked in an adobe oven in the dining area and visible from our table. The place was packed with both Mexicans and gringos. It had moved from the address listed in the book but luckily, we stumbled on to it. As I blog tonite, our neighbors down the hill are again serenading us with lovely Spanish ballads.

We returned to city today and wandered thru the city’s huge market place where people everywhere were selling the local delicacy called chapulines, grasshoppers fried in a red chile sauce. As Oaxaca is known for it’s chocolate we picked up a few souvenirs gifts, so now you all know what we’re bringing you. We enjoyed cups of hot spicy Oaxacan cocoa in another market place. Ray wasn’t feeling good, so we wandered the city a bit then stopped for cerveza at a restaurant along the zocalo (main plaza). We were constantly intruded upon by folks selling stuff. If we had just one peso for every time we have said “no gracias”, we probably could have paid for our trip. We had negro (black) and rojo (red) mole dinners at restaurant called Casa Mayordomo, recommended by AAA, which is obviously connected to the same folks who own the chocolate stores from whom we bought this morning’s gifts. As you can see from all of the dinner photos we post, we, at least I am, obsessed by food. At home, I spend more time watching Food Network than any other channel.

Many of Oaxaca’s buildings are constructed with the greenish volcanic rock we passed along the way. Not to criticize this city, but Oaxaca has been the least active and (to us) the least interesting city we have spent time in. The city seems to be more affluent than most Mexican cities. The weather is pleasant. Many ex-patriots live here but we were just disappointed.

St. Paddy’s Day, we headed south to los playa (the beach). We got a late start and again got lost getting out of town. Climbing over the mountains and down the carretera was a challenge. Some of the hairpin curves were extremely tight. RVers, following our in footsteps, should heed Church’s warning; this road should definitely not be used by RVs larger than Pick-Up Campers. There was much less traffic on Mexico 175 south to Puerto Angel than on Mexico 190 backtracking to Tehuantepec and then following Mexico 200 but with the steep grades and tight turns truckers do not use this route. The carretera gods were not with us as we did have our fair share of the outside lanes but because the area is heavily forested, we usually could not see the valley below. On some level, one knows trees will not break your fall, but it is a lot less creepy for me to not be able to see the bottom. We climbed over 10,000 feet mostly in 2nd gear. We don’t ’think we saved any time and surely no fuel but the drive was much more scenic. There were pines in the higher elevations, giving way to banana and coconut orchards at lower levels. Leaving Oaxaca, we had planned to stop and see the world’s thickest tree, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81rbol_del_Tule and the villages of Ocotlan and San Bartolo Coyotepec that produce the lovely black and green glazed pottery that this region is known for. Thankfully, good sense prevailed and we did not stop. Our trip took seven hours to cover 150 miles.

We are now at Zipolite beach, near the town of Puerto Angel. On our AAA map it appears to be the southernmost tip of Mexico. We are at just 15 degrees north of the equator. In contrast, Waikiki is about 21 degrees north. The sand gets very hot. The temperature is quite warm but tolerable during the day. It cools off at night.

We rolled in after dark but fortunately our directions were good and we arrived at our campground, Fernando’s La Palmera Trailer Park, safely. The only nice things I can say about Fernando’s are: it was there, it was safe and because we are small we got a shady site. The pluming consisted of wooden planked enclosures with toilets (seats and lids) but no normal flushing system. There, beside the toilet, is a garbage can full of water. To flush, one is supposed to bail enough water into the toilet so that flushing naturally occurs. It worked so-so, but after at least a dozen attempts, I’m ashamed to say I left more of myself behind than I have ever done before. Having grown up on a farm in Montana with only an outhouse, I can handle most anything.

In the morning, we met our camp ground neighbors Ben and Gloria from B.C. Having sold their home, they are now full-timers. They have two motor homes, an old one which they bring down here and an a nice Endeaver which they use in the U.S. and Canada.

At Palenque, Ben and Gloria began travelling with a German couple, with whom we also visited but never got around to introducing ourselves. The German folks are traveling in a tank like, 45 year old Mercedes motor home which they have driven thru Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Egypt, Africa and all of south and central America and who knows where else.

They told us that it cost 7000 erous/$9000 U.S. to ship their rig to south America. There are no campgrounds in these places. They always stop by 4:00 p.m. and look for a safe place to overnight. They said that they had never felt unsafe but if they get even a bit queasy, they find another place to stay. Those big Mercedes symbols are much desired but theirs has never been stolen. The only time they ever had anything stolen off their rig was in Germany when some thugs removed their hubcaps.

Thankfully, previous Church camping followers had posted an update telling fellow RVers about Rancho Los Mangos. We moved over here. This appears to be the most perfect campground/funky resort city/area we’ve found along our way thru Mexico. There is a hotel on site. Ray visited with some of the guests this morning. We are the only campers in the park. Our hosts all introduced themselves and they really seem to appreciate our business. Our hostess, Juana kissed and gushed over Furgie. The showers/banos are nice and clean but they only have frio agua. On a warm evening a cold shower is ok but tomorrow I will run the camper’s water heater to wash my hair.

Remote as we may be, we do still have internet. Our campground is just a couple minutes walk from Zipolite Beach, a clothing optional beach. Most people wear suits but we’ve seen quite a few nude and semi-nude people parading up and down the beach. As you can see, the well tanned people in our photo are very fit. We’d guess they are in their 40s/50s. They have paraded by us for the past two evenings now. Small inexpensive restaurants line the beach. We wish we could stay longer.

From now on, our blogs will be much briefer. How many times can one say, “we went to the beach today”.

---

Photos

Guadalupe (Lupe) Martinez Zarate
A great place to stop on Hwy 190, about 22 miles northwest of Tehuantepec at at KM 218 and KM 219. Lupe's restaurant is marked by topes at both KM signs.

San Felipe Trailer Park
Doug French, producer of Scorpian mezcal grows a variety of plants on site where he experiments with various blends.

More of Doug's plants.
Ray cannot remember how many types of blue agave plants Doug said there are but it was lot.

Doug's home
Doug is from San Mateo, CA. He could not afford to live on Skyline Drive in the Santa Cruz Mountains so he came here and bought a hilltop and established his mezcal business.

Confessional in Catedral
As kids we used to talk about how long parishners spent in the confessional. Imagine being visible to God and everybody!

Marco Polo
My a la talla pescado dinner with muy picante sauce.

Marco Polo
Ray's pescado a la horno, with chipotle sauce.

Raymondo in Abastos Market
Many vendors here are selling the local delicacy, chapulines, spicy fried grasshoppers. Clearly, older ladies do not want their pictures taken.

Oaxaca's zocalo
Check out his broom