Mexico 2020 Cancún - Mérida

Me with my new wide-brimmed hat under my helmet, trying to leave Cancún.

Leaving Cancún
It took me ages to leave Cancún. I arrived having spent a gorgeous 5 days with my sister Fiona and her family in Germany where it hardly made it over 0 degrees celsius for the whole time I was there and that was just fine. Just how it should be in Germany in December.

I booked into La Casa del Arbol via the Booking app while waiting to board my flight to Cancun in Frankfurt. At 13 euros a night, it sounded perfect. Lorena, the host was so kind and her house was so quiet and cool I found it hard to muster up the energy to get my ass on the god dam saddle and just get going. Going from 0 degrees to 30 degrees overnight kind of knocked the stuffing out of me.

And just as I was wheeling Sherpa (the bike) out the door Lorena produced a wide-brimmed sun hat which she said I must wear under my helmet to protect me from the sun. What a great idea and what a lovely gesture. Thank you Lorena.

Mauro spent 5 hours taking Sherpa apart and putting her back together. 

So after 3 nights in Cancún and having bought suncream, oats, honey, raisins, a Mexican plug adapter for my laptop and after downloading the two must-have cycle touring apps, I was ready. Maps.me is like Google Maps but works brilliantly offline. The iOverlander app is primarily used by travellers in camper vans but has great info about safe places to pitch tents for cycle tourers.

Some New Gear

For this trip I thought I'd try out a few new bits of gear. Jill Wright, an Irish cyclist, who I cycled along the Barrow river with this summer recommended a few changes to my Sherpa. If Herbie and Laura ever read this, or my good friend Sheila - they will know how much I like to moan about my Thorn Sherpa (bike). Yes guys, any day now I will sell it and buy a bike I actually like!

Anyway, Jill recommended a ladies Brooks saddle instead of the mens version which had come with my bike and had always been sore. Laura Trowbridge (UK) who was also with us on that Barrow trip recommended trying some half clip half flat pedals to stop me moving around so much in my saddle. I thought it was worth a try.

New ladies Brooks saddle with a hole cut out. 

I had never tried half/half pedals before. But I'm loving these from Alpkit.

Camping

And so it was. I was back on the road and wanting to camp at the local police station. When you come from 'normal life' in Europe sometimes you can lose a bit of confidence and wonder 'how is this done again?'. It always feels a bit funny the first few times to rock up to the local fire station or police and ask for a safe place to camp. In my experience, they always say 'right here'. The below picture shows Sweeny Green (the tent) camped outside the police station in the town of Ignacio Zaragoza. I actually wanted to camp inside the wall but the female police officer insisted I camp outside the wall. 

Sweeny Green OUTSIDE the local police station.

All a girl needs is a a good ledge to put all her stuff!

Valladolid

Valladolid is one of Mexico's Pueblo Mágicos (magic towns). There are 127 designated Pueblo Mágicos in Mexico and two in Yucatan, the province of the famous Caribbean resorts of Cancún and Playa del Carmen. They have been categorised for their beauty and historical interest and Valladolid didn't disappoint. It was just gorgeous. Valladolid - yes, with the same name as the Spanish city - is also the entry point to the the famous Mayan ruin of Chichen Itza, one of the New 7 Wonders of the World.

At the fruit market in Valladolid an elderly lady was peeling a 'limon dulce'
or 'sweet lemon'. And lo and behold that's exactly what it tasted like. Not an orange or
lemon but a sweet lemon.

I can't for the life of me remember the name of this fruit/veg, but it was hard
and white when opened and delicious with lime juice.

This is a small 'calabaza' meaning pumpkin in Spanish.

I'm told it's only the start of the mango season.
Proper proper mango season begins in May. Ooooh.

Mass in Valladolid

I went to mass in the church in the below photo on Sunday and witnessed a very unusual  but lovely offertory procession. When it came to the time to bring up the gifts loads of people just stood up and looked like they were walking out of the church. I initially thought that it was some kind of revolt against giving money to the Catholic church but then I realised that this long procession was starting from the back of the church to the altar. Each person carried a food item in their hand. A bag of flour, a bottle of oil, a bag of salt. People had donated food items as they entered the church and during the offertory procession these items were brought to the altar and then given to the poor of the town when mass was over. Every Sunday the same thing happened.

The monastery in Valladolid where a nightly light show
telling the history of the town takes place.

Beautiful paintings showing the history of Valladolid have
been drawn onto the name wall.

The beautiful church on the central square in Valladolid where I witnessed
a very interesting offertory procession. Photo pinched from the Internet as mine were rubbish.

A lovely mayan dance in the main square welcomed me to Valladolid.

Lorena's hat makes it to Chichen Itza. I bought an audio guide for 1€ and
wandered happily and quietly around the site amongst the thousands of tourists
while listening to the history through my headphones.

Los Cenotes (sink holes)

There are no rivers in Yucatan. All the natural flowing water in the province flows under ground and has created a network of tunnels and caves. All along the side of the road you see signs for Cenotes, sink holes, often in caves deep under ground. Glorious cold refreshing places to swim. The really good ones cost 10-20 dollars to visit but there are loads to be found just off the main roads where you can swim for a euro or two.

My first cenote of the trip. Glorious cold fresh water after a long
hot sweaty day on the bike. 

Cenote in the city centre of Valladolid inside a half open cave. 

Coca Cola
I'm sure I'll write more about Coca Cola during this trip blog, suffice to say that after one week on the road I'm horrified at the amount that Mexican's drink. Every single town is plastered with Coca Cola advertising and it seems it is all people drink. When I mentioned to these two ladies about the sugar content or if water might not be healthier they don't seem to get what I'm talking about. My water bottles are filled up free of charge wherever I ask but I have yet to see Mexicans drinking water. It's shocking. Mexican's don't drink tap water. They buy water in large 20L drums. I always ask if my bottles can be filled from these drums and it is always ok. 

I had a really lovely friendly breakfast in this food stall. I ate a 'panucho' filled
with beans with some avocado and egg on top. This lady had the same plus
a bottle of Coke. For breakfast. You'll notice the lady behind has just finished her Pepsi.

A random poster I spotted at a bus stop in Cancún. 'Wanted: 4 donors of O negative blood'.

Reading on Kindle: Those Who Wander: America's Lost Street Kids by Vivan Ho - recommended by some education bods I follow on Twitter

Listening to on Stitcher: John Simpson's World podcast

Listening to on BorrowBox: The BeeKeeper of Aleppo by Christy Lefteri

Reaching Mainland Mexico: Mazatlán to Guadalajara

The ferry from La Paz (Baja) to Mazatlán (the mainland)

Australia, Germany, Canada, USA, Denmark and of course
Ireland represented on the ferry.

Sitting together on the ferry with the map of Mexico.
We had all decided on different routes through Mexico.

Since the ferry from La Paz to Mazatlán only runs three times per week it's not surprising that almost every ferry unites a small group of cycling tourers. The Baja acts as a sort of funnel and the only point of exit off the peninsula is the ferry port at La Paz. 

Rumour had it that you could hitch a lift with the Mexican truck drivers (and save having to pay the 70usd ferry fee) so of course I thought I'd give it a go. After two hours of stopping trucks and asking for a lift I gave up. I bought a ticket and boarded the boat with the other cyclists. Such a great atmosphere. Myself and Leann had bumped into Helena (bottom right of the photo below with red cap) at a set of traffic lights outside LA. We just said a quick hello and goodbye as it was dark and pouring rain and we were nearing a camp site. And here almost 2000kms later I bump into her on the ferry.

Mazatlán

Seeing as there was a bunch of us, we cycled off for breakfast together as soon as the ferry docked after the 12 hour crossing and then all piled into a lovely hotel. Cheap as chips when you can share a room. But my oh my was the mainland hot.

Beautiful colours of the walls and doors of our Mazatlán
hotel made me feel like I had just arrived in Cuba.

Town plaza of Mazatlán with its own salsa dancing
competition in full swing 

The Cuota or not The Cuota ... that is the question

While other cyclists seem to have researched their routes and downloaded the maps for each country, I use the general strategy of getting out the map, finding some point about 70-80kms south and then just getting on the bike. I chat all along my way asking about the road up ahead, the climbs, how busy certain roads are, how far to the next town and it has worked fine so far. However on the Mexican mainland things are not quite so straight forward. 

It seems that to get from city A to city B, one has two options. Option one is to take the toll road (la cuota). Option two is to take the old road (la libre). So while most cyclists seem to prefer the motorway/toll road for its hard shoulder and good'ish quality tarmac I actually hate them. On one particular day recently I was completely losing the will to live on a motorway hard shoulder and only for some supportive What's App texts from my friend Maria and her husband in Cork, I think I might have gone completely mad. I spent one full day amusing myself by following the hanzel and gretel crumb trail of these green chilies along the motorway hard shoulder. Pity it wasn't something slightly more stealable. 

Thousands of green chillies littered the hard shoulder
of the motorway one day.

The advantage of taking the old roads is that stuff is happening all along the route. There are roadside vendors selling tamales and tacos, informal restaurants selling lunch, farmers ploughing fields, kids playing. And also if you don't quite reach the destination you thought you might get to you can always find another village or town 10kms closer.

Rosamorada at sunset. A lovely town I had no
intention of staying in.

In Rosamorada the police escorted me to the
president's residence. The security guard let me sleep inside a spare room.

On the old road locals often stop you and jump
out of their cars for a photo.

Staying with the local parish priest in Ahuacatlán

My strategy to find a safe place to pitch my tent since on the mainland has been to ask at the fire station and if there was none, then I'd ask at the police station. But I had also heard that cyclists camped in churches. I wasn't quite sure how it might work but I had to start somewhere. Attempt one worked a treat. Attempt two, not so good. When I asked the one and only priest in the town of Ahuacatlán if I could camp on the church grounds he invited me to stay in the parish house. His mum was visiting so along with and en-suite bedroom I was also offered dinner and breakfast the next morning. Deadly.

My very comfortable room in the parish priest's house.

My room with a view.

When trying to escape early the next morning there was
no option but to wheel Sherpa right through the church.

Tried the same strategy the next night but wasn't quite so lucky...

So impressed was I with my first attempt at 'church camping' that I tried again in the next town the following night. The parish priest told me I could pitch Sweeny Green behind some railings beside the main church door. However at 10pm that night I got a knock on my tent door asking me to move. Two elderly homeless men said I was on their patch and should move. Had I not seen their cardboard boxes? Fortunately the church had two porches with railings so both men very kindly and politely helped me pack up my tent and all my stuff and move 20m down the way. They are the first homeless people I had seen in six weeks of cycling through Mexico.

Sweeny Green tucked away nicely behind the church railings.

This is the 'other' porch where the homeless men helped me move to.

The church plaza the following morning. This was the first time I had
seen bread which wasn't 'sweet bread' in Mexico. Hallelujah.

Esquinapa - the most famous town for biking in Mexico

Staying in the town of Esquinapa was a particularly lovely experience. At dusk I was taking a random exit off the soulless motorway when I bumped into three young lads on their mountain bikes. I asked where the cyclists stay when they pass through their town. They answered 'with Lance's mum'. And with that they escorted me to Lance's mum's house. Lance's real name is Pablo but so mad is he about bikes that he has been called Lance since he can remember. He is president of the local bike club.

Pablo aka Lance at the back wearing the baseball cap.
This house was well used to hosting cycle tourers.

The town of Esquinapa has a monument to the bicycle
in its main plaza.

The lads who took me to Lance's house.
They took me to see the famous monument also.

Arriving just as night falls in the town of Esquinapa.

The good old Bomberos strike again

The mainland is oh so different from the Baja Peninsula. It's busy and noisy. It's hot and sweaty. There are loads of roads so the options for a cyclist are endless. I had heard that there was a good 'Casa de Cicilista' in Guadalajara, Mexico's second biggest city. So that's where I was aiming for.

My very own room at the Bomberos in Acaponeta

A most entertaining evening meal with the firemen at Acaponeta.

Mexican Food

Since hitting Mexico's mainland these stalls selling sweet dried fruit & veg keep popping up. Below shows some dried and sweetened pumpkin, grapefruit and turnip.

Breakfast at Lance's house consisted of deep fried crispy
tacos served in a cold spicy tomato soup with some
grated carrot and cabbage on top.

A huge portion of delicious ceviche. Raw shrimp and octopus with
avocado and onion. All marinated in lime juice.

My Food

My current go-to dinner on the road is some chopped up boiled spuds with a salad of hardboiled egg, scallions, tomato and of course lime juice. 

A very dull motorway hard shoulder lunch.

My very own handmade egg box.

The Town of Tequila

There are 111 Pueblos Magicos (magic towns) in Mexico. It was an idea of the Department of Tourism during the 1990s to highlight some particularly lovely towns for tourists to visit. Tequila is one of them and was directly on my route. It was gorgeous. I could have stayed a week. But I just had time for lunch.

A road sign welcoming me to the town of Tequila.

Tequila's cathedral on another sunny day.

A beautiful day's ride into the town of Tequila on the old road.

Tequila is made from the agave plant which grows
along the roadside in this region of Jalisco.

Guadalajara

The casa de ciclista (home of the cyclist) in the city of Guadalajara was a real highlight. The huge building in a nice part of town was bought for the bike cooperative by a travelling cycle tourer from California. He liked the idea of the bike coop so much that he wanted to support the project and so bought the coop a home. The casa now consists of a regular bike shop which often holds training workshops, a specific centre for building bamboo bikes, a kitchen and bedroom and bathroom for travelling cyclists and an event room. Highspeed internet plus the company of other travelling cyclists made it a welcome break from the hot, sweaty noisy and busy roads.

Exploring downtown Guadalajara with some other
touring cyclists.

My very own planning office with blackboard wall and chalk
at Casa de Ciclista, Guadalajara.

I know this might seem a little odd but I just thought I'd include it to sum up the mood here in Mexico at the moment. I came across the below photo when looking at photos of a recent bike conference on the laptop of one of the guys who worked at the casa.

He described a recent global bike coop conference that took place at the casa in Guadalajara a few months previously. It's called BikeBike and is held in a different country every year. In 2016 BikeBike was held Mexican style in Guadalajara. In Mexico there is a tradition of the ' La Piñata'. A papier maché object is hung from the ceiling at parties and a everyone takes turn bashing the Piñata with a baseball bat blindfolded. Well at this year's BikeBike a certain Mr Trump was hidden inside the Piñata and well you can imagine what happened.

A certain Mr Trump being bashed with a baseball bat
at the bike conference.