On the Road South

We arrived in Patzcuaro on Sunday, December 5, after an uneventful trip. As usual, our departure from Salida was fraught with anxiety, last-minute problems, and uncompleted tasks. We made it only as far as Alamosa and spent Wednesday night at the Super 8, after dinner at the  always-marvelous East-West Grill.

The Sangres were beautiful in the setting sun

One of our dilemmas was over which vehicle to take. When we'd piled up everything we realized it would fit into the Subaru, so despite almost a quarter million miles on the engine we stuffed the trunk and back seat with our gear. As Mark said, the round trip is essentially the same number of miles as an oil change. We're glad we did, because the Sube is a pleasure to drive--fast, responsive, and unobtrusive. It's just another red car, although as we found out it is unusual enough that a federale (Mexico's federal policeman) was curious about it. More about that later.

Thursday night found us at Pecos, Texas, and on Friday we arrived at Eagle Pass, Texas, ready to cross at Piedras Negras, the small crossing that we used last May. On Saturday an early breakfast and no special problems at the border had us heading south a little after 9am. One of the reasons we like this particular border crossing, other than its manageable size, is that the road surfaces on the route are good, most of the road is libre (free, i.e., non-toll), there are bypasses around the major towns, and for some reason it has less heavy truck traffic than other libramiento routes.

On the bed at the sex motel

As a result of that early departure, we pulled into our overnight destination, Matehuala, around 4pm, ready for a nice meal at Las Palmas, a hotel with a restaurant and RV park that is a favorite among many travelers. But rather than stay there we opted for the local "sex motel," with a comfy bed, a shower built for two, and an enclosed garage for complete security.

For the uninitiated, Mexico is full of these motels on the outskirts of all major and some minor cities, recognized by high walls surrounding the entire property and entrances that don't allow passersby to see inside. The best are one-story with garages between each unit for maximum privacy, to put it delicately. One pays for either 12 or 24 hours via a pass-through in the wall, and while we might believe they are designed for men and their girlfriends, they also accommodate married couples who need to get away from the rest of the family once in a while. They are economical and generally immaculate. Because we arrived at 6:30pm we were obligated to leave 12 hours later, so that got us on the road very early once again.

Driving on the autopista is expeditious but as boring as our interstate highways, so Mark picked out a smaller road on Sunday that took us through little towns and more interesting country. Because of that, we found a marvelous country restaurant that serves an excellent breakfast buffet every day for the ridiculously low cost of 55 pesos, about $4.50. Eggs and omelets al gusto (as you like them), juices, fruits, many side dishes, all for the same low price. They also serve an arrachera (grilled beef) buffet for comida, which is the main meal of the day in Mexico, usually between 2 and 4pm. The restaurant was open air and full of families, all bundled up against the cold.

The omelet lady

Now, about the federale--We were leaving Monclova, the first large town south of the border, passing through magnificent mountain scenery, when Mark, who was driving, noticed a black and white patrol car right behind us. It got closer and closer, and then the red lights went on. We thought for sure it was going to be our first ticket in Mexico, but when the officer arrived he extended his hand, smiled, said "Do you speak Spanish?" and asked to see the engine compartment. Slightly amazed, Mark popped the hood and we both got out of the car. He touched a few things on the turbo engine, said something about being an admirer of Japanese technology, kept asking if it was fast (I said, "It can be..."), and inquired where we were going. When we said "Pátzcuaro," he said, "Es muy feo," (It's very ugly). We said, "Pátzcuaro?" and he said, "No, la situación" (the situation in Michoacán). He then shook hands with both of us, wished us a safe trip, and told us to be careful. We drove away--slowly, as you would expect under the circumstances.

More photos of the drive here.