Hola amigos!
We spent our last night on Baja in the seaside city
of La Paz in a lovely old colonial inn called Posada San Miquel, where we had
two rooms plus a bathroom with hot water shower upstairs overlooking a little
courtyard full of blooming bougainvillea. What a lovely and restful
spot! And to top it all off, a man made and served a delicious chicken
taco breakfast outside the posada the next morning (take note, men of Maple
Corner!)
We did have an adventure finding this little piece
of heaven, though. We were actually looking for the office to buy tickets
for the ferry crossing to mainland Mexico. Streets tend to wind around,
change names, and as we discovered, are one way without any obvious
signage. We missed a turn we intended, and Steve made a u-turn in an empty
street to go back and take it. However, as we emerged from the empty
street to turn onto the road we wanted, a crowd of cars honked wildly at us,
their drivers shaking their collective fingers indicating that we were heading
the wrong way on a one way street. Yikes! We were so flustered that
we turned right instead of left just as a police officer turned on his siren and
gave chase. He took Steve's license right away, and had Steve leave the
van and talk in the cruiser. Steve was treated to quite a lecture,
apparently, though he didn't understand much of it and professed to understand
even less. The police were threatening to take his license back to the
station and make him retrieve it there, but it took so long explaining all this
to Steve that they got a callout, and they just gave it back with stern words so
they could do some real police work. Whew! Literally saved by the
siren! We now study the direction of all parked cars on a street to
determine if it is one way or not, since we can seldom find signs with that
information. Live and learn!
We were told to arrive at the ferry docks by 1:00
p.m. the next day for a 4:00 p.m. boarding. While we waited there in the
sun, drinking a beer (coke for Isaac), a family from California pulled up next
to us. Wonder of wonders, they had a 12 year old boy, who immediately
disappeared into the van with Isaac for the infamous Gameboy youth
psuedo interaction. These folks had spent the year previous cruising
the coast of Mexico in their sailboat. While they were home on a visit
this fall, a hurricane totaled their yacht. They were spending a little
time in Mexico before bringing it home to fix, a substantial change from their
plan to cruise for another winter!
As fate would have it, however, they were unable to
board the boat at the last minute, because they did not have a vehicle
permit. (Good thing we took the time to go to San Luis and get ours
at the border!) Isaac was really disappointed, as he was eager to spend
more time with a living, breathing BOY.
The ferry was big, modern and comfortable. We
spent most of the 7 hour crossing in the lounge watching American movies with
Spanish subtitles. Most of our fellow passengers were truck drivers, who
spent the whole trip drinking and carrying on in the bar, and then emerged with
drinks in each hand to unload their big trucks. So not only did we commit
the foolhardy sin of driving after dark in Mexico, but we started out with a
hoard of drunk truck drivers! Needless to say, we stayed the rest of that
night at the first decent looking motel we found.
Los Mochis, the city in which we planned to leave
our van while taking the train through the Copper Canyon, was big with lots of
traffic, and not particularly scenic. We had a serious handicap, too,
because we neglected to purchase a Lonely Planet guide to mainland Mexico
in the States. This guide turned out to be the best by far of any of the
Baja guides we have, because it gives clear and accurate information about
places to stay, routes, tourist services, and maps of many cities. I had
written down the names of three hotels with inside parking and the address of
the tourist office in Los Mochis from our California friend's copy while waiting
for the ferry. We found the tourist office easily, and got a map of the
city. (We were lucky, because it ordinarily was closed on weekends, but
the woman there was working overtime on a Saturday!) It turned out to be
the weekend of the 100th anniversary of the city of Los Mochis. We found a
comfortable motel room within walking distance of a HUGE celebratory open air
market, comprising at least 10 big city blocks square. We had a wonderful
weekend as a result, wandering through dusty market streets, eating way too much
and soaking in the sights. Never once saw another gringo in all those
crowds! We would walk until exhausted, collapse in the air
conditioned splendor of our room, and then go out again for more.
The train through the Copper Canyon (and seven
other huge canyons) left early in the morning - Steve and Isaac actually rose
and stumbled to the taxi at 4:30 a.m., which is truly remarkable, for those of
you unfamiliar with their sleep habits! The train ride was fantastic -
check out the attached pix for a hint of the beauty and drama of this
trip. The canyons rival the Grand Canyon, and the train clings to the side
of these phenominal mountains, in and out of tunnels and bridges. Steve
and I spent much of the 12 hour trip hanging out between cars, so we could
catch our breath in appreciation for the frequent moments when the ground seemed
to disappear beneath our feet. As it turned out, our California
friends were also on the train, so Isaac got to hang out with his buddy Joseph
to his heart's content. Once in a while we made him glance at the scenery,
but as he says, his interests are quite different than ours!
We debarked in Creel, Chihuahua, at about 7:00
p.m., and got a room at Casa Margarita. This is a hostel where many
tourists stay - it was full of Europeans when we were there. It is very
comfortable, and a big breakfast and dinner are included in the price of the
room. A lovely wooden sign carved by our friend Chris Miller and mailed
down after he and Josie stayed here (how many years ago??) graces a tree in
front of the hostel - looks great, Chris!
Creel is in the territory of the Tarahumara
Indians, who are famous for the tenacity with which they cling to their
traditional culture, which includes bright clothing for women and unbelievable
running feats for men. We walked up to a Tarahumara village before
catching the train back the next day. They live in tiny log cabins and
cave dwellings in a remarkably quiet valley. We saw a woman herding goats,
another washing clothes on rocks, and lots of occupied caves. Several
children came up to beg a sip of water and sell us trinkets. One man
offered trinkets for sale in his cave, so we were able to enter it and take some
photos. A tiny wooden door hid the sleeping place, where he said seven
people sleep, and the area is smaller than my closet at home. It is like
stepping back in time at least 3000 years, and had a big impact on us after our
earlier visits to the uninhabited cave dwellings in New Mexico.
We caught the train back to Los Mochis with many
Tarahumara people, who seem to go a few towns over on the train, and a slew of
strutting young cowboys in fancy boots, hats and very bright dress shirts.
We dropped exhausted into our hotel beds at 1:30 a.m., very grateful we already
had a room!
We headed south the next day, driving for several
hours through farmland. There were many huge fields of corn, sugar cane,
tomatos and peppers, clearly agribusiness rather than family farms. We say
entire families working in the fields, and their scary looking residences behind
barbed wire. Later we came to rolling hills with mountains in the
distance, and small ranches interspersed with tiny villages. At one
village with four speed bumps within half a mile, local entrepreneurs were
selling sugar cane, beans and tamales at each one. We were glad to enter
this lush green country after so many days of desert! Life is slow here,
and old fashioned. Cowboys road around on burros and horses, animals graze
by the road, and elders doze in the shade over their domino games. We were
all relieved to be back in the van after 5 nights in hotels.
We camped the next three nights on various beaches
down the coast. This is a lovely area, with pretty much undeveloped
beaches. Locals do party on some of them at night, but no one bothered us
at all. People were friendly when we saw any. At one beach, we were
under a closed restaurant's palapa, and a gang of magpies entertained us with an
astounding array of noise, from sounds of car engines to numerous calls and
whistles.
We are now in San Blas, just north of Puerto
Vallarta. Steve and Isaac have a bit of a flu, so we rented an apartment
for three days and are holed up resting. Lovely spot, and a good time to
take a break.
Hope you are all well. We miss you, and love
to hear from you via email! So push reply right now, and send me a quick
note about yourself!
All our best,
Sarah, Esteban and Isaac
Sarah Gallagher
Click here to see some recent photos of our
Copper Canyon train trip and our visit to the Tarahumara Indian village in
Creel:
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