Mexico 2020 Campeche to Palenque

A very cute motorbike trike used by police in Campeche.

Leaving Campeche

Campeche was a little bit too clean and pretty for me. I had found a hostel in the centre of town on the iOverlander app where I thought I would be able to camp on the roof but when I arrived and asked, it was not to be. I stayed one night in a very posh dorm room and went exploring but pavements and plazas were clear of everything - street vendors, fruit stalls, shoe shine men and rubbish. It felt sterile and quiet and most un-Mexican. I didn't linger too long.

In a previous life I had presented a paper on Digital Literacy here in Campeche at a conference when I worked for ECDL. Back in the days when I thought the 'One Laptop One Child' idea of development agencies would be revolutionary. That was before I became a secondary school teacher and saw with my own eyes the detrimental impact that screen time has had on our young folk. How time has shaped my attitude and my yearning for a slow life offline. Says she who is now blogging online; I admit the contradiction.

Along the coast south of Campeche

South of Campeche comes the island city of Ciudad del Carmen, the capital of Mexico's petroleum industry. I didn't chose the coast road so didn't get to investigate but shortly after Campeche I did see some oil rigs out at sea. When I checked out Mexico's top 10 exports and imports 'oil' appears on both lists. I'm guessing its oil is shipped to the US for processing and then bought back in different forms.

Oil rigs out at see south of Campeche.

Every fishing boat lining the shore is weighed down by scavenger birds.

Rubbish rubbish everywhere. The curse of Central America.

In the morning heat, a perfect rest spot for some audio book listening.

Although the sea looked inviting I didn't swim. 

Sebaplaya
Sebaplaya was one of those completely normal Mexican towns, noisy, busy and with a plaza which was full of life until late in the night. A nice relief after the sterile nature of Campeche. I popped into the police station to ask where it would be safe to camp and was told to pitch my tent right on the town square. I was surprised and delighted. 

I had just nodded off when at 10.30pm the local salsa dance club turned on the music and got to work. About 30 teenagers plus an instructor danced their socks off with loud salsa music absolutely blaring from a huge set of speakers and amplifiers until midnight. Whatever about me, I did wonder how the locals got any sleep and were able to get up for work on a Monday morning. But I found it hard to be annoyed. Here were teenagers having a ball outdoors during the only cool time of the day and there wasn't any alcohol in sight. I was really impressed. 

After Sebaplaya instead of continuing along the coast, for some reason I decided to head inland. It's not like me. When cycling I always trying and stay as close to the sea as possible but I was hot and a little bored with the endless flat roads. I knew if I head for the hills I would find cooler temperatures and a complete change of scenery.

The police told me that the central plaza in Sebaplaya was the
safest place to camp.

The impressive church on the central square in Sebaplaya at sunset.

Lovely random encounters on the road

This group of lads below kept me entertained for at least an hour. My current strategy when ordering food is to walk around other tables at an eatery and just point out what I`d like based on what looks good - and no, no Coke thanks, I have my water bottles!!! It was 10am and these guys were having omelettes and beans so I promptly said `me too`. For desert a round of hotdogs appeared which were quickly smothered with catsup (ketchup in Mexico) and mustard. We had a good old laugh about possible cholesterol levels. 

I did laugh and joke with them but in all seriousness they had been working in the fields since 5am when their workday started. They said they were in charge of monitoring the machines on the local palm oil plantation - I could have guessed by their clothes that they weren't labourers. 

Workers on the local palm oil plantation. 

The young lad below with the striped tracksuit top skipped the omelettes altogether and went straight for a breakfast of three hotdogs. His white glass contained what I thought was horchata - a local rice milk drink made by steeping rice overnight in boiling water. However in this case he called his drink 'avena'. For me avena is the Spanish word for oats so I asked how was he drinking 'avena'. So he showed me the bottom of the glass where the milled oats had sunk to. I tried it and it wasn't so bad. Not particularly tasty but surely more nutritious than Coke. 

This chap having a breakfast of 3 hotdogs and porridge water. 

Once I took out the green chilis my own omelette was yum.
And then out of nowhere a hotdog appeared which I packed away for lunch.

And this was the end product produced on the farm. Vegetable Palm Oil. The shirt-wearing lads explained that it is used locally for cooking but is also exported to Germany for use in the cosmetics industry. And their biggest customer is PepsiCo. So I'm still confused as to whether it's palm oil or vegetable oil. I had thought they were different but maybe not.

Vegetable Palm Oil.

Los Ranchos 
For three of four full days I cycled along flat fertile land full of cows. Every few kilometres I would see a sign for 'Ranch of the Two Brothers' or 'Ranch of the Blue Lake'. In this case we have 'Ranch of Linda's Hill'.

Ranches either side of me for 3 days of cycling.

I stopped and chatted to the man driving this motorbike. He was a farmer and owner of one of the many small ranches I had passed over the previous days. He woke at 4am each morning and along with one helper he milked 100 cows by hand. He needed to be finished by 7am when this pick up truck passed each morning to take his fresh milk to the local cheese maker. He sold 113 litres of milk each morning. He said a couple of rancheros (guys who own the ranches) had machinery for milking cows, but very few. Sunrise is such a beautiful and quiet time to be on the road. 

Sunrise delivery of warm fresh milk from the ranch to the main road for collection.

Escarcega and RAC Mexico

Escrcega is a large noisy dirty market town. I wasn´t going to stay, but did buy 10 euros of pone credit which would keep me going for a few weeks. It was also the first time I was hosted by a member of the RAC. RAC stands for red de apoyo del cicloviajero - a network to support touring cyclists. It was set up in May 2018 after two cyclists were murdered in Chiapas. Holger Hagenbush from Germany and  Krzysztof Chmielewski from Poland  were killed while cycling in the area I am writing from right now. Mexicans are such a kind and generous and gentle folk that it`s hard to imagine. And in response to these killings a Whats App group was set up to support touring cyclists in Mexico.

The group consists of 200 Mexicans who support cyclists by hosting them, fixing their bikes and giving them advice to different routes to follow. I was added to this group in Cancun where I started this particular trip. Every day I get messages asking me how I am and if I need anything. The owner of this blue house below is Pedro. He was on holidays with his wife in Spain when I was passing through his home town. And having never met me, sent a message where I could pick up keys. I should make myself at home. That evening his mother-in-law called by with his kids to check I was ok and to bring me a 2nd fan.

Pedro is a doctor and his wife, an economist. They were in Spain for the first time for a 20 day holiday. Even though they have very good salaries by Mexican standards they couldn`t afford to pay for accomodation on their holiday, so were going to use Couchsurfing in Spain. They host Couchsurfers all the time in their small (one room upstairs, one room downstairs) blue house. 

Pedro allowed me to stay in his house while he was couchsurfing in Spain
having never met me. All arranged via Whats App.

Pedro's mother in law and kids popped over to check I was ok.

Bus shelters provide great respite from the midday sun.

Meeting two lovely ladies in the posh cheese shop
The following day at about 4pm I took shelter from the sun at a roadside tiendita. The Spanish word for shop is tienda but when you put `ita` at the end it means a small version. A tienda in Mexico seems always to be a `tiendita`. This particular tiendita was very unusual as it was very posh and only sold local honey and cheese. The 2 owners promptly offered that I camp overnight behind their brother`s restaurant down the road. They mentioned somethng about a swimming pool. I didn`t have to be asked twice. 30 minutes later I was bathing in this cool pool. 

The most incredible treat after a hot sweaty day on the bike.

I was introduced to Robert the night watchman. He slept in this house during the day so said that instead of camping I could sleep here. And he had 2 fans which I promptly set up to face the bed. I eat that evening with the restaurant workers and wasn´t allowed to pay for anything. More incredible Mexican hospitality.

Robert, the night guard`s casita.

The bathroom in Rober'ts house.

Roberts humble abode.

Robert and myself having a night cap of Nescafe instant coffee.

Palenque 
Palenque is famous for its Mayan ruins so is a real magnet for tourists. It is also the entry into the state of Chiapas, popular for its beautiful mountain scenery, cool temperatures and affordability.

For 5 euros per night I camped in the garden of a 4 star hotel, by the river where I swam each day.

Edgar is part of the RAC Mexico and took me to the ruins in Palenque for the afternoon.

He took me in his very cool 33 year old VW Beetle

Palenque offers the tourist a lovely easy place to wander.

In Palenque my fuel bottle was kindly filled for me. 10 pesos (50c)
should do me for a couple of weeks.

Philadelphia packaging has changed since the last time I cycled in Mexico. 

I turned my head and out of nowhere a complete mariachi band appear at my bike.

Reading on Kindle: Como Agua Para Chocolate (in Spanish- very slowly)

Listening to on Stitcher: TED en español

Listening to on BorrowBox: Women in Love by D.H.Lawrence