San Cristobal Delight

Another overnight bus took us away from Oaxaca, up and down the winding roads towards San Cristobal de las Casas – and boy were they winding roads. Hairpin followed by hairpin. After the first couple of hours even the most cast iron of stomachs would have been gurgling!

The bus was almost empty so we had room to spread out and try get a bit of shut eye. It wasn’t going to happen. Once the roads opened up, the driver put his foot down, either to make up time or just for the fun of it, and I couldn’t get my head to stay still for more than 20 seconds.

That was the worst of it though. We arrived at the bus station and were greeted by a young chap who had the answer to all our needs. At first I thought I’d have to dodge an attempt to steal the white man's dollars, but instead Jonathan opened up a brochure of a new hostel in town. Free taxi there, 24 hot water, breakfast, wireless, private bathroom, all for less than we’ve paid anywhere else so far. It was delightful. No need to run around town looking for cheap and clean accommodation, on the back of a night without sleep. This was a low season/new hostel discount. We’ll have that thank you very much! They even have free salsa dancing lessons if you want!

And, from then on the day just got better. There are actually people here willing to talk to you and discuss their travels. Crazy notion, hey?!

San Cristobal is a little like Oaxaca, and a little like Patzcuaro. Mountains surround the city, which makes all the street views so impressive. Its very much more geared up for tourism, and we have already booked ourselves a trip on a boat down a nearby canyon. There are plenty of reasonably priced restaurants and everything seems so chilled out and easy here. While sometimes it's nice being away from tourists, here we welcome not having to work hard for what we want. Plus, white faces aren’t a novelty. Although we had difficulty shaking off a couple of 10 year old (?) Mexican girls selling small ornaments! "No, thank you" wouldn’t cut it. So I had to try out some newly learned sentences. "I don’t need it and I don’t want it, thank you", I said. Still didn’t work. We left the restaurant and walked down the street and they eventually gave up. It takes a lot of will power not to cave and just give them five pesos. They’re very cute kids they send round here!

We met a Kiwi on the way round the Indigenous Medicine Museum (I know Sophie will have plenty to say about that place) and have arranged to meet her for a drink later along with a French guy from her hostel, who looks like John Lennon.

This place is wonderful!

ps. I forgot, we also had a boat trip down the Sumidero Canyon. I hope I don't become indifferent to amazing views!

Monte Alban

About 20 Km away from Oaxaca city centre is Monte Alban, a pre-colombian Zapotec archealogical site, 400m up at the top of a hill. The Zapotecs apparently ruled the surrounding lowlands and settlements from here. The views of the valley of Oaxaca are perfect and you can see how it would be an ideal place for the Zapotec elite to keep an eye on things! Although it must not have been so great to operate a city from here. There is no water source, and being at the top of a large hill inhibits trade somewhat.

The site consists of tombs, buildings and ball courts. I wonder, was it football they were playing? Who knows!
The Zapotecs fought a lot with the Aztecs but both were undone by the Spanish in the end.

We got a good look at three circling birds too. I got a few shots (with the camera!) I think they're common buzzards. Magnificent!

Oaxaca's a long way when the toilet smells

I'd forgiven the canyons for roughing me up a bit and sadly we had to head somewhere new. Aware that time is ticking by, heading south was the plan, and the city of Oaxaca (pronounced wah-acka) the destination of choice. There are many many miles between Creel and Oaxaca. We talked of taking a flight but the bus easily won on financial grounds. Here's how it went; five hours to Chihuahua, change bus and 20 hours to Mexico City, change bus, six hours to Oaxaca. Dark, hey? That's 31 hours on a bus and about 37 hours total trip time. Unfortunately, we spent the longest stint at the back of the bus right near the toilet. It's potluck on buses, and this one hadn't been cleaned as recently as I'd hoped. You start to think, what constitutes a smell? Well, tiny particles..... I'll stop there!

We arrived in Oaxaca at 5.30am and had a nice chat with a lovely Japanese girl who lives in London. She'd been credit crunched (are we still in a recession in Blighty?) into a bit of traveling, so we chatted until sunrise when we could realistically go searching for accommodation.

Oaxaca reminds me of Florence. It has quite a relaxed feel about it. The architecture is attractive and there are plenty of museums, cafe's and restaurants - plus you can go to the market and grab a handful of fried grasshoppers, an Oaxacan specialty! Not very Italian, and not for me, thanks.

Oh, and a note about our accommodation. We're in a great little hostel that comes with breakfast and wireless Internet. It's our first time in a hostel thus far, and aren't you supposed to meet lots of fellow travelers and exchange stories and generally have a bit of a chat? Not here. Its as much as you can do to get a "hi" from these guys. Thankfully today we met a nice guy called Andrew from Denver (but originally a Brit) and had a good old chat on the way to some ruins.

On Four Wheels

Friday was our last full day in Copper Canyon. After the exertions of the previous day, the best way to see as much of the area as possible would be by hopping on a tour. Unfortunately (or fortunately) there is a lack of tourists here in Creel at the moment. Most of the tours need four, if not six people, to make it affordable. So, as a next best option, The 3 Amigos offered us their pick up truck for the day. It still wasn’t cheap, but this way we could see what we wanted at the pace we wanted. And driving around here is a lot easier than cycling!

In all, a 200 kilometre round trip took us as far as a town called La Bufa, which overlooks another town called Batopilas. From there we headed back, stopping to take photos of the wonderful scenery. It was a lot of ground to cover in a day. We were supposed to have time for a three hour hike to see the Cusarare waterfall. I don’t know how! It was probably for the best that we didn’t have time for that one!

Some of the roads were good, some were flooded dirt tracks and in between there were dusty roads like something out of a rally stage. The Nissan pick up was rear wheel drive – fun for rallying – but there were moments where we could have quite easily got stuck in mud on some of the off road tracks!

Canyon 1 Rob 0

In Creel there is a great little place called The 3 Amigos and from there you can book all sorts of tours in order to experience the best of this vast canyon area. We hired mountain bikes (only £15 for 2, bargain) and headed for The Recowata Hot Springs, a 22Km ride.

Before we headed out, one of the amigos explained that the first few kilometres would be uphill, then flat road and then a left turn would take us on a flat off-road track. And also, once we got near the springs, there would be 3 kilometres of downhill on a stone path. Oh, and our helpful guidebook said that you will need some degree of physical fitness. No problem.

We made good progress. The first 15 kilometres flew by. The uphill at the start was challenging but it was morning so we were fresh. Then we started to head downhill on the track. Good, I thought. Not long until some hot spring action. Then the stone path started, huge stones of all shapes and sizes, set in concrete. It was probably the most uncomfortable path I’ve ever cycled on, even on a mountain bike with front suspension.

We continued down, and down and down. We must be almost there, I thought. Then the stone path started to get very steep and zig zag back and forth. We were going down the side of the canyon. I don´t know how far down perhaps a kilometer in altitude? No one said anything about this. These canyons are deep. We must have done three kilometres by now. No, the path went on and on. Some parts too steep to ride. Then, the bumpy stone hill got the better of me. Constantly on the brakes, my hands slipped forward off the handle bar and the rest of me followed. I broke the fall with my elbow and shoulder. The bike went sailing over my head. Ouch doesn’t cover it. But after a moment I realised I was very lucky. No broken bones and the bike still worked.

A short hobble and we’d reached the hot springs. Huge volumes of warm water pouring down the side of the canyon had been captured by a number of differently sized swimming pools. The water cascaded from one to the other and then eventually joining the river below. This is a seriously relaxing place to be. Sun shining, warm water to bathe in, and beautiful views. Perfect. Healing, even. And I needed healing!

After lunch and a good chat with some Mexican tourists, we decided we’d better try and make it back by the 18.30 deadline. However difficult it was coming down, going back up wasn’t going to be amusing. We couldn’t cycle it, so we pushed the bikes up the steep canyon. Almost a full two hours later we got to some flat ground. Only the small matter of 15 kilometres left. I don’t know how, but we made it back to Creel on time. I straightened out various parts of the bike from the crash, hid my left arm and we handed the bikes in.

We were exhausted. I’d said that I wanted some exercise and I got it. The springs are a wonderful place to go. On bikes? I’d say you need more than “some degree of physical fitness”!

El Pacifico Chihuahua Railway

The only way to get into the Copper Canyon area (there is and never was any copper here) is by a train which runs daily from Los Mochis to Chihuahua – perhaps where the little dogs come from? I’ll have to google it!

We boarded at El Fuerte and bought tickets to Creel, which is roughly halfway but still eight hours.

The views were spectacular and really do keep you amused for all those hours.

Arriving at Creel we were met by many people trying to tax us a few pesos in exchange for showing us to hotels – something we are more than happy to do ourselves. We eventually shook off some particularly persistent kids, who were pretending to guide us to hotels when in fact they were just trying to second guess which way we were going to go - we’re not in the business of giving our money away for nothing! (I´m not being harsh, they weren´t starving)

In Creel we again find ourselves in a place with a lot of warmth, friendliness and character. It’s surely what rural Mexico is all about.

Should have gone to El Fuerte

A six hour journey up the coast and we arrived in Los Mochis. A very wet Los Mochis! This was some serious rain. The roads were flooded and more like rivers in some places. We had two tasks; firstly to find a place to stay (that had hot water) and secondly to find out some information on how to get into the canyons the next day. This wasn’t all that easy here and after much wading, we were pretty wet and miserable. Still, a good hamburger got me back in high spirits!

We decided to leave Los Mochis the next day, get a bus to El Fuerte (2 hours) and then catch a train to the canyons the following morning. This apparently is the best way to start the railway journey and should have been our first move.

El Fuerte reminded me of a place straight out of an old western movie set. There were colourful buildings, cowboy hats, saloon doors and plenty of places to kit your horse out.

Our hotel here was a tranquil arrangement of rooms set around a garden and in taking the small room, was a bargain. The proximity to the garden meant it was time once more to construct the mosquito net. I think we’re getting rather good at it!

We drank beer with the locals and tried our best to share a conversation. Perfect way to improve the old lingo, right? Wrong. They were so drunk I don’t even think they knew they were talking to foreigners. No amount of “no comprendo” or “no hablo Espanol” was going to work. They could have been Glaswegian and us Lithuanian, it made no odds. So, we had to ditch them. It was only 8pm! Luckily there was more than just one bar in town.