Mexico 2020 Palenque to San Cristobál

Leaving Jose and Elki's home in Ocosingo felt like saying goodbye to family

I mentioned the RAC support group in my last blog post. A group of 200 Mexican's who do or do not cycle but who want to keep us touring cyclists safe and informed about the roads ahead. All is organised via an extremely active Whats App group. 

Nina, the girl in pink above, is an English teacher and mountain biker. The day in May 2018 when Holger and Krzysztof were murdered, Nina was expecting them. They were supposed to stay here in Ocosingo with this gorgeous family. But they never arrived. It was after this incident that the RAC (network of support fo touring cyclists) began. Nina and her dad Jose are one of the most active members. 

My temporary palace for 3 nights in Ocosingo.

I sat in Palenque and waited for a full 24 hours for the rain to stop. I wanted to get on the road but I already had a soaking tent from camping on a wet night so decided to take the bus to Ocosingo. I arrived unexpected and late in the evening but was welcomed as if I was the long lost daughter. Elki (mum/seamstress) got out a spare green tent and set up a little temporary house for me under a tarpaulin in a lush leafy corner of their gorgeous garden. Then she asked me for all my wet clothes and made sure I was warm and dry within minutes of arriving. They have been hosting cyclists for three years. Imagine this level of attention to their wandering nomad guests year after year. And they are just so delighted to help, to offer a cyclist a bed or a hot chocolate or a warm shower. It's unbelievable and never ceases to amaze me.

Elki offered to mend my sleeping bag liner. What a gem.

Nina's mum, Elki, is a seamstress. She was making a very funky pink dress for a customer during the three days I stayed. She offered very kindly to fix any bits of my kit that were in need of a stitch. My very favourite stretchy sleeping bag liner got a hole mended. What a treat. 

I spent an afternoon at Toniná, the huge mayan ruin close to Ocosingo. There are so many sites around this area of Mexico and over the nearby Guatemalan border that tourists are spoilled for choice. This one is not particularly well known and I was one of only a handful of tourists there.

Toniná is yet another fantastic mayan ruin site. This time I had it all to myself. 

I spend time with Elki in the 'mercado' (the market) and each of us bought a corn stick. A stick of boiled corn on the cob with some mayo and spicy red sauce. Surprisingly tasty.

Elote with mayo and spicy tomato sauce.

Little pots of boiled corn lined up for sale. With a dollop of mayo and spicy red  sauce on top.

I had great craic with José, Nina's dad, at breakfast time. As you know I'm partial to coffee and milky fruity porridge in the mornings while José preferred bread. One morning he headed out to the bakery and brought back cinnamon rolls. He put some stringy white cheese inside and popped them into the microwave. So we each had a half bowl of porridge as well as half a place of hot cheesy cinnamon rolls. He had never tasted hot oats before and smothered them with honey.

José sharing warm cheesy cinnamon rolls.

José trying hot milky porridge and raisins for the first time... with LOTS of honey.

On the road from Ocosingo to Oxtuc. 
It's always hard to leave places where you are made so welcome that you feel right at home. But the road calls and I need to keep moving if I am ever to reach Oaxaca. After José and Nina's house I was being handed over to the next family in the next village. Profe Pedro - as he was known - was expecting me by late afternoon the following day.

Different colours/flavours of fried tortilla for sale on the roadside.
The dark brown one, 2nd from left, must be bean flavoured. 

I was standing under a tree in the shade when this guy calls across the road to me and asked if I'd like a grilled corn. He wanted to give it to me for free but I insisted he take at least the market price of 50p. Himself and his wife below were super chatty, we talked about Ireland where no corn or beans grow. They could hardly believe it. 

Patricio was super chatty and like all others was wondering where my husband was.

Chats by the roadside. Patricio's wife and all her different coloured beans for sale.

A large Christmas tree made from empty plastic bottles.
There was a little fairy light in each bottle.

The cleanest bathrooms I had seen in weeks.

Profe Pedro and his family in Oxtuc.
So Pedro's house was my next RAC house on my journey. They all called him Profe Pedro as he was a teacher. Even though I only stayed for 24 hours with this family the experience had one of those lasting effects on me. 

The circumstances were as follows: Pedro was a Kindergarten teacher, had a permanent job and got paid. Silvia, his wife, was a Primary teacher and both she and the other 100 teachers in her school hadn't been paid in a year. She had two choices - to stop and stay at home because she wasn't being paid, or to continue teaching so that at least her kids were learning. It seemed like a heartbreaking kind of situation but not unusual for Mexico.

It was cold. Oxtuc is at about 2000m above sea level. The house was open. By that I mean that all activity happened outdoors in the patio. I had all 5 layers of clothes on me and was still cold. Silvia, the mum, cooked a chicken soup over the firewood (light green lid), made the most delicious hot lemongrass tea (brown lid) and boiled water so that I could have a shower (blue lid). 

They only had running water on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And the running water they receive is not drinkable. All over the patio and garden lay huge plastic drums which collected rain water and were filled up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Having no running water really affects every action in everyday life. Cooking, washing dishes, flushing the loo, brushing teeth, making tea. Life was tough for this family and yet they were probably one of the better off families in this large town. 

Stove fueled by wood where Silvia cooked chicken soup and warmed a bit pot of water
for me to have a shower.

Diego, their 3 year old son, was a gas man altogether.

Parents are off to work and kids off to school the morning I'm leaving.

Leaving Pedro and Silvias.

Silvia's delicious chicken soup made over the fire.

Visiting Silvia's Family Home

Pedro's wife, Silvia (Primary teacher) was one of nine children in her family. On the evening I stayed with them, after chicken soup, we headed into town to meet the family. There were multiple sisters and brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews all sitting around the fire in her mum's house. It was such an interesting evening, listening to all the chat, watching various sisters breast feeing their babies as they were cooking over the logs. 

This sister's 1 year old fell asleep on her lap after feeding. She promptly bundled her up in a blanket and rocked her in the baby hammock which hung on the kitchen ceiling. They said all families in Chiapas have one. A baby hammock. I asked about sleep time for babies. But she said the babies here sleep when they sleep, drink when they drink and there is no stress. No one counts hours or has a bedtime. Seemed so stress free compared to Europe. 

The 1 year old, wrapped in a blanket and gently rocked in the hammock
hanging from the kitchen ceiling.

Silvia took me on a tour of her three storey house. Again everything was open. No doors or windows. Most rooms were just 3-sided. And it was cold, really cold. On the roof Silvia showed me the pride and joy of the Chiapas household. It's called a Temazcal. Inside there are wooden planks which hold about five humans. At the back there is a pile of stones. About an hour before use, wood is lit over the stones and is taken out just before the humans enter. One of the family perform a mayan wafting ceremony with palm leaves and there is oil and incense involved. Sounded lovely.

The wondrous Chiapas family roof-top sauna.

50kms after Pedro's house was a 10km climb. I had just had a 2nd breakfast of eggs, beans and tortillas when a group of taxi drivers in the village started joking with me about the climb. One of them offered to take me the to the top of the 10km for 3 euros. I jumped at it.

A kind taxi driver literally hurls Sherpa in his boot. 

The Mexican Diet
I'm slightly amused but kind of horrified at the state of the Mexican diet. I know I'm no holy Mary when it comes to healthy food but I really do try to eat as much raw or plant-based, vegetarian food as possible. With a lot of fresh orange juice, a lot of warm water and a daily can of cold been thrown in. But I have to say I feel so sorry for Mexicans. Because there is so little running water, and no water can be drank straight from any tap all food is packaged. Every little tiendita (little shop) looks like this. A bag of crisps or biscuits or nuts (roasted and salted and flavoured) or cakes costs about 20 pesos (1 euro), which is about half the price of a proper cooked plate of food. 

On displace outside and inside every single shop.

I meet these little trucks and these friendly sales guys all day every day. Each crisp and drink company sends their fleet of trucks off into rural Mexico each day to count stock and rearrange the shiny pink and purple packages. 

Crisp and cake delivery vans.

Sales reps checking stock and rearranging the plastic processed packages of rubbish.

The biggest best trucks are ALWAYS the Coke trucks. 

San Cristobal de las Casas

I had been dying to spend time in this town since my last Mexico bike ride. I knew it was high (about 2500m) so would be cool and had heard great things about it's focus on art and culture. It really is a special place. I stayed for five nights and was really sorry to leave. I chose to stay at a campsite 2kms out of town and met the loveliest travellers and had the most relaxing time surrounded by huge old lefay trees.

I've dabbled in a bit of yoga over the past few years and adore Dublin's YogaHub. I sign up immediately when they release any special monthly offers (usually 112 euros per month). For 3 euros we could attend fireside classes in San Cristobal. 

Yoga by the fireside 3 times per week.

Fabulous yoga room with fireplace at the San Cristobal campsite.

It was always fun when a new truck pulled in. I was the only traveller on a bike but as has happened over the years, I'm always really welcome at these site more suited to overland travellers. This particular Dutch truck has been on the road since 2012. It was the first 4x4 truck/campervan any of had seen with a pop-top roof. 

The Dutch truck which had been handmade in Germany.

One of the most gorgeous of coincidences led to me meeting two fabulous couples in the campsite. Melissa (below) and her hubby Darren were skiiers, snow-shoers, motor bikers, hikers, paddlers, wild campers, dog-lovers, readers and generally gorgeous folk from Vermont, USA. We got on right from the start. They were really interesting yet easy company and we spent a few lovely afternoons strolling around the small cobbled stoned streets of the colonial town of San Cristobal. Each night we would chat for hours by the campfire. 

Melissa overlooking San Cristobal.

Darren gave me some 'fatwood'. Is that the right name Darren? He explained it's great for starting fires. I should use my penknife to slice away a small piece he said. Fatwood is the core of the pine tree and is full of sap which lights very easily. New to me but was delighted with my little gift. 

Darren gives me a going away gift of some fatwood.

On day three of my lovely campsite stay a 1990s VW van pulle in with an English registration. In all the years I have been travelling in both Central or South America I don't think I have ever seen a van from the UK. Vans are first and foremost American and Canadian. After that they are most likely Dutch, Swiss or German. And any of them travelling with kids, for whatever reason, are ALWAYS French. The French travel whether by bike or by truck with their young families. 

The owners of said UK registered VW were Stuart from Scotland and what do you know - Helen from Goatstown, Dublin. Both couples were on a Mexico/USA/Canada trip so we spent evenings by the campfire with all our maps spread out taking notes and comparing experiences. 

Helen and Stuart had really only arrived in Mexico. They shipped their VW from Plymouth, UK to Veracruz, Mexico. Unfortunately their van had been ransacked while in transit. They had lost almost everything except some cooking utensils and their English DVDs and books. We all felt so sorry for them but they had no choice but to restock at the local Walmart and get on with their trip. They seemed pretty upbeat although I'm sure underneath they were gutted.

I had been keeping my eyes out for Mexican wine and was delighted to find a nice bottle to share with this pair. What fun! It was hard to leave.

Me, Helen and Stuart up to mischief over breakfast.

San Cristobal de las Casas

A couple of fuse boxes at the market

A bucket of deep fried grasshoppers at the San Cristobal market. Yummy.

San Cristobal

With Melissa walking around exploring.

Darren and Melissa's truck was a 1962 Land Rover. It went about as fast as me on a bike.
60-80kms per day roughly. Darren made their pop up tent for this trip.

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