Let's Pack and GO

By Paul G Dickson

Paul and Helen Dickson are gypsies at heart and dreamed of doing an extended vacation while they could still walk uphill, climb steep steps without too much panting and sit on rickety bus seats for copi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul G Dickson
• Release date: May 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9780645633825

Book preview

Prologue –

Pinching myself would have done no good as I was totally immersed in the scene before me in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. There I was perched on a curb, engulfed in an outcry of passion and belief as I stood transfixed watching a sea of people, including children dressed as angels, women and men in black carrying lanterns, incense being burned, all accompanying the casket holding the remains of their prophet. Earlier in the day there had been the trial conducted by Pontius Pilate, the washing of the hands, the flagellation of believers, the Centurions in costume and the absolute absorption of the throng. I found it all just so enthralling, as I came from a country where this public outpouring was not, generally, the norm. However, let me take you to why and where this odyssey begins.

Helen and I had long been (and still remain) types of gypsies at heart, having taken holidays to locations we had on our proverbial ‘bucket list’, never to a beach resort for more than a week or two, but more like a five week-plus stint to some places that have taken our fancy for some reason or another. It had always been a dream, no, possibly more than that, more like a plan that we would do an extended trip while we were both fit and well enough to enable us walk uphill, climb steep steps without too much panting, sit in rickety hard bus seats for copious hours – in general, do our own thing without too many restrictions, as opposed to doing the organised ‘tour’ bit.

Why 2007? It seemed to be as good a year as any! Back in 2006, we were going to get someone to manage our business; rent out our house and off we’d go.

Well, plans were meant to be fluid, we sold the business, which was fine because it took that drama-filled ‘midnight in the middle of nowhere phone call’ out of the equation. We were then being faced with possibility of not enough income to support this folly, so we decided to downsize and renovate a one-bedroom house we owned to free up cash. Well, that was the basis for our forthcoming dream.

With some small tremors, almost everything went to some sort of plan and in March, 2007 when we departed Australia, for ten months. So, there we were with airline tickets saying that we were to depart Melbourne on March 15 and return on January 05, 2008 and all that left for us to do was fill in the spaces in between the dates. This theory caused a minor ripple amongst some of our friends and no doubt family who were mildly dumbfounded that we didn’t know what we were doing; mind you some of them thought that that was us to a ‘t’ anyway.

We were bits of Central and South American stalkers having done parts of Mexico, Guatemala, Costa Rica, Peru and Bolivia before. However, this time we wanted to see more of Colonial Mexico, plus, as it turned out, we ended up doing a three-month part-camping trip through the National Parks in North America and onto the west coast of Canada, a week in New York, then a couple of lifelong dreams such as the Panama Canal, the Galapagos Islands, Napo Wildlife Resort in the Amazon River Basin, and whilst in Ecuador we stumbled onto Cuenca, which was an absolute find and a ‘must see’. We also had a brief six- day sojourn in Havana, Cuba, which can be described as an ‘interesting’ experience and a ‘must do’ as soon as possible, before there was a major political and ideological change.

Our memories were enhanced by the invention of the digital camera, travelling for the first time with a laptop, where we stored and backed up not only a diary, but some 11,000 odd photos (‘odd’ was a good description for some of them). The laptop, combined with the internet, replaced sending postcards with emails, and later the discovery of Skype got us into cheap communications.

In this book, I intend to whet your appetites for what you can do with no really set agenda for exploring South, Central and North America.

It was the most amazing grand venture of our lives.

This was definitely not our last trip into this part of the world.

A brief post script…

Since 2007, both my beloved sister, Denise, and her husband John and my brother’s wife Norma have sadly passed along with Hel’s father Hans, Sylv’s husband Mike and both Doreen (my cousin) and her husband Dick (who lived in the US), all of whom we shared many memories beyond this book.

Love you all and miss you terribly.

1

Mexico here we come!

We were on our way to the airport, hey hang on, the train broke down. This couldn’t be happening we’re still in the suburbs of Melbourne!

Was this for real, the train breaks down before you’ve even left the country, let alone the city of origin. Well it did happen, but again I’m ahead of myself, thankfully, this sweaty palm episode was only a blip on the radar screen, and hopefully, wasn’t a precursor for the ten months to come!

It was hard to comprehend what being away for this length of time was going to be like, and I guess realisation was about to hit us both as we boarded the flight out of Melbourne. However, it wasn’t till we disembarked back in Tullamarine some ten months later did we realise what it all meant.

OK, before I digress further, let’s start at the beginning...

We had transplanted ourselves from Sydney to Warragul in Gippsland, Victoria for just over a week before we left, as it was where Hel’s mum and dad lived, and it made it very handy to say goodbye to them face to face, plus we could store some things and also garage our car.

The actual planning and organising of things that would still occur, whilst you’re away for a reasonable length of time, took some sort of organising. Things, like renting out the house and all that entailed (‘Was the tenant the right one?’ Whatever that means?), redirection of mail, the cessation of mail that was going to be superfluous, funds for petty cash that someone can use to pay for incidentals and ongoing costs etc. The list was horrendous. However, today with electronic banking and communications made the whole process almost, yes almost, foolproof.

As was expected, the night before we were to leave we slept fairly patchily, getting up at about 6.30am having been awake for a couple of hours anyway. After breakfast, there was a teary farewell to Hans and Mart as they dropped us off at the Dandenong train station. Except for the train breaking down on the way into the city, well, so you have to be flexible, the ‘real’ trip hadn’t really started though! What else could there be in store for us at this early stage? Thankfully, we weren’t leaving until tomorrow.

However, we had no other problems with public transport in general, as our baggage consisted of only Hel’s small expandable, my largish overnight bag and two backpacks. Having just mentioned the luggage, I did wonder at the time, as we travelled through Melbourne suburbia, if those city-bound commuters even gave us and our couple of bags a thought. I must admit that I do now give the ‘suspect’ traveller, accompanied by luggage, more than a cursory thought as to where they might be headed. However, still on the subject of our luggage, or for lack of it, was that we figured it would be easier to replenish clothing as we went along rather than lug copious amounts around with us, especially with a couple of major weather changes we were going to encounter during our meanderings.

We had pre-booked a hotel in the city, close to the airport bus terminal, which, hopefully would make for an easy start tomorrow morning. Tonight, we were having dinner with Hel’s sister Sylv, Sylv’s husband Mike and our niece Ilka at Docklands. We caught up, talked our heads off and, of course, the hard part of eventuality came with us having to say ‘goodbye’ coming all too soon. We, again, had a bit of a fidgety night’s sleep with the usual recurring thought/s of did we bring the travel essentials like jocks, socks, toothbrushes etc and God forbid, passports!

The next morning, we got ourselves across and up the street to the Melbourne City Airport bus terminal by 7.30am and managed to catch a bus pretty smartly with all the other ‘intrepids’. The Tullamarine experience was all hassle-free (there’s just not the passenger traffic as in Sydney at that hour of the morning) and we checked in very calmly, which allowed us heaps of time to have a bite to eat (it was a bit like ‘the prisoners ate a hearty meal before being incarcerated for a period of time’. The eggs were better than the ones we were going to be confronted with tomorrow morning during the flight) and wander round, all the time itching to get things under way etc. As far as we were concerned it was day two and we were still in Melbourne!

The flight left about twenty minutes late; we had good seats (68 A & C), which meant that we were down the back (maybe less impactful in case of a head-on, though I’m not sure where that theory originates from!), but we had three seats to ourselves which was great on a 13+ hour flight; in fact, on any flight! The trauma of the train episode, thankfully, didn’t extend into the night’s flight as it was very uneventful with the crew (who were about senior’s age and being off-pension week weren’t all that friendly), the food was fair, but the booze was spot-on (vodka and tonic and a pleasant merlot with the meal). It was amazing with recent movies on flights and the way they were shown on individual screens etc – rather than having to sit upright to watch the screen down the aisle with no choice of entertainment. Well, we did start flying quite some time ago! It was all very attractive, that was, if the selection was good.

As it turned out the selection of movies was absolutely amazing (we need to get out more!). In the thirteen odd hours, we watched five movies each and all were brand new! If we had continued flying around the world, we may have seen the lot that were on offer. I won’t give a critique, other than to say they ranged from ‘Borat’ (bloody appallingly funny, well, to my sense of humour. How embarrassing was it to be laughing out loud when you can’t hear yourself with earphones on?), to ‘Blood Diamond’ (possibly too much gratuitous bloodshed) and ‘The Last King of Scotland’ (great). The rest have slipped my memory, possibly too much to absorb, or was it the quality of the red! Not that I’m a great sleeper on planes, but it was possibly the only time I really didn’t sleep a wink, which, when you think about it, was pretty stupid when we’re going to arrive into LA and be given the third degree by the hypersensitive Department of Homeland Security staff and then hang around the airport to fly on to Mexico City!

We arrived into LA at about 7.40am in a real ‘pea-souper’, and then we had to go through all the US security stuff, even though we were only transiting. Hel escaped without some absurd question, relating to some obscure place she lived etc being asked. She does have a history of being selected for random inquisition-type questions. LA and Hawaii airports were diabolical by being very untidy and unfriendly. There were no problems, but it was just the pseudo procedure to go through with the security thing again, this time taking shoes off etc! They should know us as they took photos of our eyes, fingerprints about three years ago!

Add to all of this, LA airport was depressing – it was like arriving in a third world country, except there was no one around, the place was almost deserted. We think they’re all staying home or the young people were being flown to Iraq!

We re-checked in with Mexicana and then we sat in the airport waiting for our 12.10pm flight and still amazed watching all the old aircraft they fly here. The Americans must die when they come to Australian, or more especially, the ultra-modern Asian airports. Add to that, the odd assortment of people that come and go. Then there the business people (some not looking too ‘pointy-end’ at that hour of the day), people with kids climbing in and out of pushers (I don’t know why you’d put yourself through taking ‘tackers’ on a holiday, unless, it was only for an hour flight to see Grandma), flight crew with a Starbucks plus a paper bag in one hand (says mountains for airline food) with some of the pilots looking too old and others possibly requiring cushions on the seat to see over the controls. Anyway, painful as it was waiting, we reckon it was a wise move to keep sufficient time between connecting international flights as the slightest mishap can cause all sorts of heartache.

We finally lifted out of LA on time and because of the continuing smog we didn’t see much of the surroundings. Further south and over the coast was good, and the interest increased as we progressed into the desert regions and over the Sierra Madres where there were some spectacular views of mountains and valleys.

Mexicana were great to fly with, and this was also enhanced, as we had three seats to ourselves. Yes again! It was sometimes prudent to fly non-American airlines, but, instead using airlines of the country of destination to get a feel of what’s to come, and also fly in non- peak season times. We do love our space. The service that was provided, by a relatively young cabin crew, was great. They could speak English and were keen to do so. We dozed on and off for most of the trip, which was handy, especially, after the lack of sleep we’d had on the Pacific epic flight and time spent at the airport. We adjusted our watches forward an hour (Mexico is fifteen hours behind the time in Australia). It was fun to note that you actually arrive in Los Angeles about the same time and day that you leave home – hilarious!

2

Mexico City…we started with the big one

The first colourful glimpse of Mexico City, through the aircraft window, was made more so by the purple hue cast by the jacarandas, which were in full bloom. The vista was even more enhanced and made even more noticeable as there was no smog and the layout of the city was easily discerned with its broad avenues, parks, statues at roundabouts etc. It just looked so spectacular and add to that a smooth landing and we were on time.

It was interesting to revisit a place and note the improvements or maintenance that had and was still being carried out, and nothing was more evident than the standard of the Mexico City airport. I’m sorry I mentioned third world countries earlier on, as this place certainly doesn’t look anything like third world. It was like an ant’s nest with people going in all directions.

There were no dramas with customs or immigration, and we were through even before the luggage arrived at the carousel. So, armed with a one hundred and eighty-day visa as opposed to the usual ninety-day version, we were ready for our new adventure.

We’d bought some US currency before we left Australia and when we changed $US100 we got $1,100 Pesos. Things were really looking up. We went to the taxi control area where you can get an authorised cab at 225 pesos for the trip down town to the Zona Rosa. Ah, I remembered that it was about a quarter of this cost about ten years ago on our last trip. Hey, it was ten years ago, get over it! But, it does beat the hassle of trying to organise transport and the touts! For a timely reminder, and for my sanity, I had to make a mental note to stop making comparisons with costs of our last trip. Just get over it and move on! The ride was good and the traffic flow improved as we got into the main broad avenues and the Zona Rosa.

We had pre-booked the old-world style Hotel Geneve, and it turned out to be a pleasant surprise, but not all things went smoothly as we had to change rooms because the first one’s window wouldn’t lock, which wasn’t a wise option in a big city, especially as it had a flat, very accessible roof just outside. Once we settled in we went for a walk around the local area where we stopped at a couple of convenient bar stools and had a beer or two to wash down the accompanying guacamole. After a brief sortie, and it had to be brief, as the eyes were becoming hard to keep open, so we wandered back to our room to collapse. It was good to rest as it was a pleasant night after it being a very warm 32c day. So, the smattering of winter clothes may get very short shrift, so they were put to the bottom of the bag!!

The next day saw us get off to a slow start after having just totally expired last night. We’d decided to spend a couple of days re-discovering Mexico City and hopefully see some new places and reacquaint ourselves with some memories. So, it was on with the walking shoes and as the weather was fantastic and it wasn’t long before we ventured down the Paseo de la Reforma, which was a delightful tree-lined avenue and with the temperature approaching 20c with clear blue skies, it was ideal walking weather. It was hard to understand where they get the notion that Mexico City was one of the most polluted cities in the world, especially on a day such as today offering such a great welcome. The authorities were apparently doing some traffic restrictions into the city central, based on odd and even number car licence plates ending numbers. I guess you just buy and old ‘clunker’ and swap the plates every second day on your new car. Hey, maybe Australian and Mexican minds do think alike?

We considered going back to the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, as it was one of the most amazing places we have ever seen of this type, and well worth several hours of wandering through, but we kept to our idea of trying to see places we had not seen before, or at least didn’t give a lot of time to last time. Our first direction took us down through Chapultepec Parque, which was still green with its grand entrance flanked with enormous wrought iron gates. It was such a pleasant place to stroll through. The Mexicans call it ‘Bosque de Chapultepec’ (Chapultepec Forest). It was humongous, as it was about 686 hectares (one of the largest in the Americas) and the Aztecs were the first inhabitants, then, Mexican heads of state used it for a time.

There’s a zoo on site along with the Museum of Anthropology, the Castillo (Castle) and more. So, with the maze of paths we became somewhat lost, but eventually found our way out into the suburb of Polanco which was quite serene with treed avenues, great eateries, boutiques etc. It was a very upmarket colonia. We stopped for brunch at about 12.15pm at a modern café/restaurant watching the Mexican world go by. We were starting to unwind and coming to realise at this early stage that we could easily relax into this lifestyle, which always begs the question as to well why didn’t we do it earlier?. The rest of the day was spent walking and we ended up in another interesting pleasant area called Condesa. Finally, we wended our way back via a super mercado (supermarket) looking for good plain ‘te negro’ (black tea) for Hel (the range of teas was extensive in these places now as most supermarkets have scented or fruit based teas). We bought more bottled water and ended up back at the Geneve where we collapsed for a couple of hours for our first siesta.

We freshened up later and headed out again walking to take in the local activity as it was about 7.00pm. It was funny how things just came to occur. Standing on a street corner we encountered (well, the accent was a dead give-away!) the ex-publicity manager from Channel 9 in Sydney, who’d been doing some serious travelling before his returning home tomorrow to a new job with Foxtel. We got talking about things food and he suggested a taco place around the corner, which we decided to have a crack at. It turned out to have good fresh tacos which you could fill with whatever ingredients you wished, and the Corona was as good as home, no, better because it was only about, cafe price and all, $AU2.20 a bottle (cheaper if we’d gone for the half-dozen offer, which we may have been able to do justice to!) The locals were a young, mostly male, happy and friendly lot who were enjoying the balmy weather and were making the most of getting out into it.

I had to laugh earlier on in the day, as we waiting to cross a street, at an intersection, which was being managed by a couple of over made-up, smartly uniformed, gun-toting female traffic cops. They had the traffic backed up and they wouldn’t let them go on a green light and the horns had started, you could see the drivers’ blood pressures rising of the mainly blokes behind the wheels! The girls were having a ball getting major traffic coming down a busier road to stop. If one of the cars being held up had pushed their luck it could have been interesting to see how these well-armed sheilas / senoritas would have reacted. Amongst all of this, we were stranded on the kerbside so one of the officers came to our rescue, and again, to the chagrin of the drivers she stopped the traffic just for a couple of pedestrians to get across the road and to add salt to the wound, we were tourists!! You just wouldn’t hear or see the traffic dissent aimed at traffic police in Sydney because they were being made to wait!

Hel had always harboured a deep-seated desire to be a cop or someone in a uniform (her favourite male in a uniform was an African American Marine in dress uniform) and now that she has seen the way these sheilas operate in their tight pants and full-on make-up that’s what she was coming back as.

I said I wouldn’t refer back to ten years ago, but, Mexico has had the cheek to change some of its currency since we were last here and I tried to use some old change we had left over, and it was lucky some of the retailers today didn’t call the counterfeit squad, as some of the coins were now only suited for charms on a bracelet or fishing-line sinkers. So, that stuff was bound for the bottom of the bag for trinkets or whatever later on.

After a fairly lousy night’s sleep with us being a wake for most of it, even to the stage where we were sitting up in bed having a conversation at some ridiculous time! Anyway, it was going to be another high 27c beautiful day. It started with a bit of a hitch as we had to have the hotel resident safe-cracker come up to the room, as I’d buggered the combination of the safe and our camera etc were in there, so that was goodbye to an early start. After that it was out into it once more, and then drama two happened as we then got things confused with the bus direction and eventually we decided on the Metro as a better option, and for two pesos (about $AU0.25) we could have caught the train halfway to Guatemala. The underground train system in Mexico City was brilliant. The metro was built by the French in the very late ‘60s, and yes it still runs, and on rubber tyres, so it was quiet and smooth. We managed to get to San Angel for the Saturday markets without getting off track (pardon the pun), where we had breakfast and Hel actually got her black tea. Mind you she did have to stamp her foot fairly forcefully!

The lives of a travelling ‘plain’ tea drinker was not an easy one, but add to that Hel was not keen on red meat and some serious menu searching has to take place, especially in carnivorous Central/South American places. It was a ‘café-cross’ I have to bear.

The San Angel markets were a special place for us, as last time it introduced us to some favourite artisan novelties and it was great to be back to do the markets again with the paintings, crafts and, of course, the market shops (I thought we weren’t re-doing things? Ok, so we made this exception! We then ventured on and walked further through the beautiful suburb to Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo’s shared home / studio / Museum which were fabulous. In the studio area, the enormous papier mache figures etc were amazing, and then we moved into the separate home, which was connected by a skywalk to where Frida lived. Their story was an absolute odyssey and adds to the mystique of this place and maybe very handy to know some of their backgrounds before the visit, which includes the mystery of their relationship. Their story, both together and apart, makes fascinating reading and was enlightening not only of the times but the many parts of this country that share their passion for art and intriguing experiences with some of the most fascinating people worldwide.

However, back to the market, surprising how you remember locations and where you thought vendors were. The things they have for sale don’t appear to be as ‘home or hand- made’ anymore; maybe it was a sign of the times and the growth of tourism and demand. Because of the length of time we’re travelling we made a vow not to purchase ‘dust- collectors’, though we could always freight them home!

We finally sauntered down into the subway back to the historical down-town area of Mexico City Centro and unlike some cities the subways were still full even on a Saturday, however, the time table doesn’t change and they still work like a charm. We got off to go and see Diego’s museum where his amazing wall mural was housed, after it was saved from a hotel, which was severely damaged by an earthquake. Basically, the whole wall was moved. The intricate detail to this mural was stunning and it was no small closet-wall as it measures 14mts long x 4mts high. There were interesting stories about the details of the people he included.

Our continuing venture took us further down towards the Zocalo, which was the major square and on the way, we made a stop at the ‘Tile House’, where we had arvo tea (and no gnashing of teeth for the black tea for Hel). The last time we were here I left an impression in the ‘Hombres Sanitorio’ from something I’d consumed earlier in the day and we didn’t get to eat there that time and this time we made up for it thankfully! The House of Tiles (The Casa de los Azulejos) was built in 1700’s by the Count del Valle de Orizaba’s family. What makes this palace distinctive was that its facade on three sides was completely covered in the expensive blue and white tile from the state of Puebla. Funnily enough it was owned by Sanborns who own a restaurant chain/semi-small boutique department store/s operation and thankfully the ambiance hasn’t been ruined.

After our refreshment pit stop we ventured across the street we re-visited the old church that we went to Christmas mass in during the last time here and it was still as striking as ever. Lightning hadn’t struck after my visit which was amazing. At the service, I remember numerous people bringing dolls in cribs, representing the baby Jesus, no doubt from Nativity scenes in their homes, up to the alter to be blessed. These people do these things out of a true passionate belief. It does make you think that there was something happening spontaneously that doesn’t have a commercial or financial motive to it.

The fact that we weren’t fluent in Spanish (even the Americans have problems understanding us, but what’s new about that!) isn’t a terminal problem, but you do get to find out things that were happening by accident. Actually, it doesn’t really matter where you travel, as we do mostly with no set agenda, by this, I mean other than wanting to be in Oaxaca later in the year to coincide with Dia de Muertos / the Day of the Dead or Santa Semana / Easter in San Miguel de Allende, we have this uncanny knack of being places when events were commencing or were already under way, or do they just have that many fiestas? Anyway, we managed to do this with hilarious regularity as per in Spain a few years back when we wondered why we found it hard to get accommodation in Barcelona. As it turned out they have a marvellous Festival, where the main street, Los Ramblas, comes alive to street theatre, parades and was still going till all hours of the night / morning. If you have an opportunity to be somewhere in mid to late September then organise to be in Barcelona asit was fantastic, but make bookings early.

This time we discovered Mexico City was having a three-day March Fair and there were people up to the gunnels. The parks, of which there are many were green and alive, plus the squares have all sorts of entertainment, which gave the place a great festive feel. As we walked back down the Paseo de la Reforma Hel took photos of the protesters outside the US Embassy. This reminded me curiously, that today, we just happened to walk-by and have a look in at the Australian embassy in the swish area of Polanco and not a sign of our ‘Leader’s’ picture to be seen. We’ve only been away a couple of days: Has he gone already?

On our continuing walk, we took photos of the interestingly differently designed public benches / seats along the Paseo, which were in all shapes and sizes. Some examples of them were a stack of cards, an ocean liner, and an upside-down version with people sitting upside down. It was certainly eye-catching, and there were too many to mention. The gardens, trees and roundabouts encompassing some magnificent statues along and between this eight-lane avenue and the seats etc make home look a bit indifferent. The closest thing Sydney may have to this was the ‘Sculptures by the Sea’ generally in October or thereabouts. The layout and wide avenues make it very navigable too and you don’t really notice the traffic.

This was the first time we’ve travelled with a laptop with a wireless card and it was certainly adding another dimension to mid to long-term travel. It was a bit out of the ordinary for most hotels to have free wifi and to our absolute surprise and enjoyment we found out, later in our travels that so do North American campgrounds! I used to ‘write’, or more like do undiscernible scribble notes at the end of a day on fairly dilapidated, over time, note pads. Other advantages were that you almost don’t have to send letters / post cards (the only exception was to my cousin Lorna in Sydney). Email was the correspondence invention of the century – the inventor should be given a knighthood and the ‘spam’ people exterminated! We even got ourselves onto a free website under the name of ‘travellingdicks’ (it does bring a confused smile to some people or should I say actually everybody!) on which we could put regular blogs and latest pictures, and this keeps everybody up to date who can be bothered. You can also listen to Australian radio / news / sport (especially the AFL), mind you at fairly strange hours. There’s nothing like listening to breakfast radio in Australia on the prior afternoon with the 15-hour time difference! It was also extremely handy to do web research; search for and book accommodation and make travel arrangements. Plus, you can do banking and check on all sorts of things. Ah the joys of late-in-life discoveries! Actually, I do remember propeller driven aircraft!

Now, can I get on with things, where was I, ah yes, we checked our email and it was amazing there were too many to mention. Mind you this was early days in people’s enthusiasm! We put the system to the test and started the hunt for accommodation in San Miguel de Allende for Monday night. Tonight, was going to be a quiet one, as we must have walked numerous kilometres on a very warm day. The Zona Rosa has become a very Gay area, which adds to its entertainment and very lively nightlife, mix that with the other tourists and the joint almost never sleeps, though it was pleasant and peaceful of a morning. The music went off at 4.00am every night except for Sunday night and I don’t think it has anything to do with the Catholic Church. There must be a lot of people who take ‘sickies’ on a Monday? The Police visibility on the streets was amazing, though not intimidating, just there. The size of the force must be incredible. Another thing with the temperatures being in the high 20c’s, it was a fairly dry heat, which I guess was due to the fact that Mexico City’s altitude was 2,240 metres. Higher than all of the stuff back home where we ski – however, there’s no snow here.

After a lousy night’s sleep having been up at about 2.30am, as I got a bug in my head to write something down, which made me laugh as it reminded me of my cousin Lorna, being up at that hour and she can’t even use a computer. Anyway, we were out and into it by about 8.45am on the subway towards the suburb of Coyoacan, on a mission to see Frida Kahlo’s home. From the subway station, we walked through another beautiful park, which had hundreds, if not thousands of people of all shapes and sizes jogging themselves into oblivion. Once out of the park we had a freshly squeezed pineapple and orange juice, which cleared the head. We wandered into another exclusive part of the city, no wonder Frida and Diego had a studio here. Frida’s house was a museum dedicated to her life and sufferings, and it relates so well to the telling of her story. The pictures really did it justice. Hel was in seventh heaven driven by its surreal sense of serenity.

We then walked down to the town centre where there was an enormous market in progress, plus a fair with Mayan dancers etc. We literally walked our backsides off around the streets finally finding a delightful coffee shop. I was delirious, it was my first for the day! The houses with high front fences, colours and covered in bougainvillea, geraniums and hedges were just done so well, and some of the houses were enormous. Anyway, we found our way back to the subway, which was temporarily closed due to some accident and there were ambulances, special rescue fire brigades and police of all varieties in attendance.

It didn’t last long before we were down under and on our way and it was more crowded today than yesterday. It made us wonder if in Australian cities they built a large rail underground network and charged 0.30c for any length trip, how popular would it be? We alighted in the major Zocalo and the crowds there were also amazing. We did the parliament buildings with Rivera’s murals, which were incredible. We finished off the day by doing the major Cathedral and then off to another square. As time meandered on the bodies were starting to weaken, so it was back onto the train to the ‘Geneve’.

We bought a couple of Coronas and some nuts and relaxed for fifteen minutes before cranking up the laptop to look for accommodation San Miguel and again with no real success. So, we then did the next best thing and went for a pizza and then back to start to pre-pack and close the eyes. We’re off earlyish manana on the primera classe autobus for about a three- and-a-half-hour bus ride to San Miguel de Allende. Mexico City was an amazing place, considering the number of people who inhabit it, there was just so much to see and do with great parks, the people were ever so incredibly friendly, so, I’m not sure why you would go to Spain! We’ll come back here to do more exploring.

3

San Miguel de Allende…

We were out of the Hotel Geneve by 7.45am and into a taxi heading towards the Terminal Norte. Absolutely no traffic (we were told later that today was a public holiday), so we were at the bus terminal in no time and one hundred and fifty pesos lighter for the cab ride. We got ourselves onto the 10.00am coach, primera classe (first class), for two hundred and sixty pesos each. The primera classe buses in Mexico were very comfortable. We decided to grab a croissant for breakfast and settled in to watch the passing crowd for about an hour and a half. The bus, with great comfortable reclining seats, was great. We got away on time and it was an interesting trip out of Mexico City to wend our way through very light traffic, see some of the poorer suburbs, then the outer ones with shopping centres, car yards etc.

The motorway was good and it was great to see the surrounding mountains and green valleys, farms with ploughed fields, fruit trees, cattle etc. The countryside continued to change constantly, some or most of it similar to Australia with gumtrees, though not as barren as I was expecting. We passed through some pretty basic dusty places before we got into Queretaro, and the part we saw around the bus depot was pretty non-descript – certainly nothing to get too excited about! Queretaro was a major transport distribution hub, approximately two and a half hours out of Mexico City and about an hour or so short of San Miguel de Allende.

On the next part of the trip we met a funny oldish couple of sheilas, one of whom was Welsh and currently living Seattle and the other, over from the UK and travelling with her, who were going to San Miguel for a week. They were a bit of fun to talk to and their accents added a different colour compared to the usual North American. I mentioned earlier how accents were a novelty, but ours had nothing on theirs. It was actually a bit of fun to converse with yanks as they believe that everyone else has an ‘accent’ and they don’t.

On coming over a ridge and rounding a corner, the first glimpse of San Miguel de Allende (SMdA) off to the right was the jacarandas in bloom with the church spires etc. dominating the village in the valley. The bus station was neat and the driveway area has the obligatory potholes.

Once off the bus, some almost four hours later, with no forward accommodation booked we gathered our bags and headed straight to the tourist information desk. They didn’t inspire us, so we got a cab and thirty pesos later we got to the hotel Posada Carmina, which we had noted earlier and thought it sounded ok.

The location was brilliant being really near the Jardin.