Buena Vista translates to Great Pueblo

So much has happened over the last couple of days, I'll start first with bike stuff.
Veracruz City to Buena Vista
90 km, 56 miles
A really awesome ride, the boardwalk is 10 km long and at 6 in the morning with a beautiful sunrise with beautiful people for company passes the time quickly.


The highway has just been redone and a shoulder of 6 feet paves the way for the bicyclest.

Buena Vista - Santiago Tuxtla
60 km, 38 miles
This was tough. I left at 7 because of the long good bye from the pueblo. I did well the first 30km, so well I thought I could make some unplanned stops that are off the highway, and on a 'terrazeria'. Lets examine that word like I do when I hear a new spanish word. It sounds like 'terrain' in English, and 'ia' on the end of Spanish words mean 'a place of', a place of terrain, this is what it exactly was. This bike is not made for unpaved roads, I suffered here, I fell for the first time since I was 10 on the bicycle, not once but twice. The bike doesn't grip well here, and with the trailer it is unstable. These 5km of dirt took a lot of energy, my front brakes and my cell phone, all right before I hit the hills of Santiago. I hit these hills at 12, and was burned by the sun. I made it to the town, stopped in the first hotel, and crashed. I've spent the best part of today fixing and cleaning the bike up and the front brake is still sticking to the tire, there is a lot of dirt in the handle bar brake grip that doesn´t let it retract.

Evil Terraceria

The Pueblo of Buena Vista

I'm riding through the port city of Alvarado, I can't find a place to camp, the beach is small and full of traffic, not good conditions for a gringo biker camper guy. A kind woman on the beach told me that the next pueblo is 10k away and that I might have better luck there. The first pueblo I saw leaving Alvarado was Buena Vista. Passing the first share of houses I hear a bunch of people rooting me on from their front porches, so I decide to give my fans a personal appearance and turn around. After the hellos and presentations, I asked them if they knew of a place to camp, the bigger guy says, "A tent would go perfect right here" and points to the same porch they were on. All 4 of them got up and cleaned the patio, sooooo now I was in a position where I can´t refuse and I accepted the offer. After an hour of chatting with them, more people had gathered, we were up to 10, and it was getting to be quite the spectacle. The house belonged to the family Montes de Oca, which translates to Fields of Oak, a little house of 3 rooms and a bathroom that is placed at the end of what you would call their main street, but in a pueblo of 400 it's is the only street, their pueblo is sandwhiched between the river and the highway. The Señora of the house, they called her 'jueda', which is a nice way of saying whitey, invited me to eat with them, and after 2 pan fried fish and 4 enchiladas I was offered a bed in the house and a shower, and once again, I humbily accepted.

Water in the pueblo

There is no running water in the pueblos. Options are dig a well, bring buckets up from the river or buckets from a community faucet. Some houses pump or place the water to a tank on top of the house to have water pressure for showers and toilet, but MOST of them don't. You do your thing in the toilet and toss a bucket of water on it, you shower (usually freezing water, unless they are really nice and make a fire and heat water) with a bucket, wash clothes, wash dishes..... everything is with a bucket and the farther the water source the more accurate and skilled you are with that bucket. It's surprising how little water you can survive on, I wouldn´t doubt that in one day an American probably flushes more water than the family in a pueblo uses.

After the shower we walked to the plaza. It was amazing, it's 8 at night and everyone is out on the patio, we either get a 'good night', a whistle, wave, or an invintation to stop and chat, we spent 2 hours just walking down their little street. I was there a maximum of 4 hours and I had met half the pueblo.

They convinced me to stay an extra day, then another, and then one more.

I spent those 3 days fishing, riding in boats, talking with people, eating, catching iguanas, and playing a little soccer. They were some of the best 3 days of my life, this sleepy fishing pueblo adopted a complete stranger without a single condition and gave me a home away from home.

Here are my pics of my querido pueblo Buena Vista.

Buena Vista

Problems in the Pueblo
Like so many other pueblos, the young men of Buena Vista are absent. 10 years before I arrived a sugar processing plant moved in down the river and the fish numbers were cut to a small percentage of what they used to be, they say it's common knowledge that the acid that the plant uses to clean the machines are dumped in the river which in turn kills the fish and that the local Profepa agents are paid off to overlook it (sound like a case for Erin Brokavich). They barely pull enough fish to feed themselves let alone to sell. Options are work in the city of Alvarado and earn 40 dollars a week (not including bus fare, back and forth 4 times a day), or go to Mexico City to work as a street peddler. AAA, but there is another option for the family, and it is prosperous, dangerous, and sure one; send their sons to the US to work and send money back. All the kids in those pictures are on their way out, most of them in April, not one of them want to go and not one of their families want to send them, but the world need for sugar overrides the need for fishing pueblos. So it's off to the USA for them, where they will receive the same welcome I did, right?

I've spent the last 2 days recovering from the travesties of my last bike stretch in the pueblito of Santiago Tuxtla, a typical picturesque pueblo nestled in the hills and fog of Veracruz.

Santiago Tuxtla

So now I roll on to the lake city of Catemaco, with the additional prayers of the pueblo Buena Vista and a couple of extra pounds on my rear.

Have a great Semana Santa.

Veracruz, I love you

Jalapa is an incredible place, I can only hope the trip keeps bringing unplanned surprise stops like that one. Headed out early the next morning on the super highway (that's what the Mexicans call it) to Veracruz city. All down hill, 50 km in 2:20, cruising at a blinding bike speed of 40mph, and all that was running through my head was, "I'm flying Jack, I'm flying". Out of the mountains and back into the extreme humidity and heat of the coast. Made a stop in Cardel to beat the heat and catch up on my alimentation and then headed to La Antigua. This is the first city in the Americas (Columbus and other Spaniards set up camp on islands), where old Cortez set off to change the world forever. It was abandonded for the wide ports of Veracruz City, but the ghosts of Cortez still remain.
While combing the pueblo looking for a place to camp, I asked one of the neighbors if I could camp in their field, this scared them, and they told me I should talk to the Gente Municipal. I then asked for his address and went searching for the head of the pueblo, I big man, with a large mustache and a pistol at his side, something like Pancho Villa, this is what I imagined. The Gente Municipal was none other than a short Mexican woman with a beautiful smile and a welcoming attitude. She offered me space in her front yard, later the backyard, and even later the patio, then she invited me in for a meal of fried chicken, rice and french fries, it was excellent. After the meal, she lent me one of her kids and we went off to photograph the pueblo. This was fun, I guess since I'm white, with a camera and tripod, they think I'm with the movies. This is understandable, the movie Apocolypta was filmed in the area and they are filming another one with Antonio Banderas about Cortez. It was all I could do to keep the kids from posing in the pictures, I ended up letting one in with the warning that he's going to be famous beyond his wildest imagination.

La Antigua

After the photo shoot and shewing off the kids and women of the pueblo, the Gente Municpal, Amalia, treated me to fruits (they have a rare fruit indigenous to the area called "Zipolite Domingo", its excelletn sort of like cantelope but sweeter), tamales and tamarindo water, I was ready to explode, but then she insisted on some cake and I gave in, you can't say no to Amalia's cooking. After all the eating and talking, she offered me one of the bedrooms in the house and a cold shower, I humbily accepted.
Leaving the next day was tough, especially after the 5 sopes with home made salsa and scrambled eggs, but I did, only after we exchanged contact info.

20 km to Veracruz, that's like 15 miles, no problem for a seasoned bicyclist. Yes it was, 90 degree heat, high humidity, mid-day sun, busy highway, ..... I never thought this was going to be easy, but does it have to be so hard. It was worth it though. After I found out that the hotel I reserved with had closed down (hey its Mexico, this happens), I went walking through the center and founder a better one, for 200 pesos a night, above a restuarant with a Basque chef and a beautiflul staff of Veracuz women. I spent most of the day meandering, this is what most Veracruz City people do, meander the plazas, the boardwalk and the little beaches.

Veracruz City

The next day, I mailed a box full of stuff that I've been buying for family and friends, this was quite the task. I found a good box in the restaurant, found string and tape, and walked the box to the post office. Well, first thing they do is open it, they want to see all the contents. The next thing is tell you to wrap it up on a special paper that someone sells down the block. Next, find tape. A guy, who was wrapping boxes beside me, lent me his tape and scissors. Marclino, he does a lot of selling on ebay and was shipping some newly auctioned items, walked me through the rest of the process, which after all things said, was cheap, a little over 2 pounds and it costed me a total of 6 bucks. My new Veracruz buddy then offered me a ride to the Aquarium, my next destination, I accepted. It just so happens he lived by there growing up and later when recently married, and the kinder of his daughter is by there as well, the same one he went to. We arrived quickly and we ended up eating tacos at the market across the street from the kinder. Really nice guy, told me all about his ebay stories, the good times, the bad times, and the funny times. They let me enter the kinder to pick up his daughter, I think every preschool in the world smells the same, wax and chalk. His little girl was really cool, she is a green belt in Taekwandoo, and with much pride she showed me her forms, and counted to 10 in English and Korean. We exchanged contact info (me and Marclino) and went off to the aquarium from there. It's small but really well done, there are some 5 rooms and all of them are excellent.
Meandered a bit and then hit an internet cafe (this took 4 hours, the conection here moves like molases on Christmas break).
Heading south from here, Alvarado, San Andreas Tuxtla, Catemeco......

Junior Mountaineer

These past days with out a camera have been the most scenic so far, so you´ll just have to be long winded with the blog.
First there was the Emerald Coast, it´s great for biking but not so great for vacationing, it´s 20km of low quality beach hotels. The beach is about 20 yards wide and the water is the color of mud. BUT, if you come on an off season and stay in a hotel between the pueblos, it would be worth it. This same day, my first day on the road, I lost my flags, the top half of the pole fell off or was taken sometime during the ride, I returned 10k looking for them to no avail. What does one do then... Being an Eagle Scout, I found a 1 foot section of bamboo (light and strong) and 2 feet of cord (side of the road) and lashed it to the remaining part of the pole. I then took a big red flag off a heap of asphalt, warm but not hot, and taped it to the bamboo, now I´m truly sporting a Mexcian flag. I roll into a pueblo on the coast called Las Casitas (The little houses), where I happen upon an abandoned hotel on 1 acre of palm infested beach front property. I pull up, talk to the people trying to restore it, and they allow me to camp amongst the palms. I would of liked a picture of this place, I´ll give you the description from my journal...

It is a half acre square, extending from the highway to the beach. Full of palm trees, may be some 40 trees, 75% which are farily old.The older ones line the dirt drive to the hotel, 100 yards long. The hotel is one story, rectangular in form, and propped up on a dirt hill. The building has 4 rooms on the right, the middle is bathrooms and showers, and another 4 rooms to the left filled with bunk beds. The back is a covered patio with a brick walk out to the beach, the sand arrives right up to the hotel. At the end of the walk are the famous palapas which run the length of the hotel. The hotel is set against the left side of the terrain, to the right is a pond and a 2 small bungalows. I´m camped between the pond and the entrance under a pair of 30 ft coco trees.

...
I did 50k that day and felt great. I decided to change my plans and head inland a bit to visit Jalapa, it sounds like a place I would like. What I didn´t know was to head inland means to take on the Sierra Madre, which I did. Leaving Casitas at 6 in the morning during sunrise was beautiful, another exceprt from the journal...

Antoher kilometer down the road and I´m on a bridge overlooking some 15 fisherman on their small boats leaving the pueblo out through the mouth of the river, the sun is centimeters off the water, and an old white light house guards the northern point, it was beautiful. As I take the turnoff I´m surrounded by banana plantations, banana trees everywhere for miles, the bananas are wrapped in plastic, so I was confused what the plant was at first, but its leaf is unmistakable, it's the same one that wraps up my favorite tamal, tamales oaxaquenos with chicken and green salsa, mmmmmm. For some reason I remember that one of them was called ¨The Romance¨, what a great name for a banana plantation.

...
The first big pueblo I hit was San Rafeal, a French founded pueblo that is worth stopping in for its quantness. here I was stopped by a bike enthusiasts that showed me a route to Misantla that wasn´t on my map, it went through more plantations and had less traffic, but I had to do a river crossing, it is manned by an old señor in a boat that charges 2 pesos a person, bikes are free and fit quite comfortably. The bike enthusiast, Victor took some shots from his camera and said he´d email them to me, so some pics might come out of this. I stopped in the next peublo in front of the poorest school I had ever seen to tune my rear gear changer, journal excerpt...

Right after the hen showed up a small muchacho shows, he said he saw me from the school. I replied,¨What school?¨and he points to a pink wooden shack with a Mexican flag on it. (Time Warp) As a child growing up in the hamlet of Alice, Tx., we had a metal shack in our backyard to store things, mostly lawn equipment. It was on cinderblocks, pops gave it wooden steps, it had 2 windows, a good roof and a solid door. Our lawn mower shack would of been paradise for these kids. The pink wooden shack (20x20) had no windows, half a roof, and you couldsee right through it. I was mixed in emotions, ticked off at a government that would build such a school and depressed for the students we HAD to go to it.

On to Misantla, I ate some tamales in a pueblo, La Primavera (The Spring, the season), and made friends with Everyone there in the process through simple chit chat. They didn´t charge me for the food and warned me that the road ahead is long and steep. They were right, this was miles of up hill and curves, I was passed by a bicycle, it was pulled by a dirt bike, they had it right.
Due to the extremity of my first mountain climb I decided to stay in Misantla, a nice pueblo in the mist of the mountains, worth stopping at. I stayed in the center of town for 11 bones, and had a meal for 3. Nobody believed that I just rode my bike to Misantla, then they would tell me that it´s worse to Jalapa. So I bought a bus ticket for the next day. I had the bus stop half way for me, we had cleared the dense fog and we were starting down hill after an hour of up hill. The pueblo I got off at, Naulinco, is really neat, sitting at the top of a hill the view was spectacular, even better, it´s a town of cobblers, all the houses on mainstreet have shoe stores on their first floor. The entrance to the center has a giant copper cobbler on a pedastol, would of been a cool pic. After miles of down hill I hit an uphill twice as long as the day before, it nearly killed me. I was in the lowest gear for an hour, climbing, I stopped twice nearly collapsing from the heat and fatigue. When I was ready to set up camp and call it quits, I saw a restaurant, pigged out on meatballs, and chatted up the clientel. I was 5k from Jalapa and they were all down hill, I ran to the bike and headed in town.
Spelled Jalapa outside of the US, Xalapa to Mexico, sounds the same (soft J), This is a cool town, it has an artsy, university, cosmopalitan feel with all its parks, museums and colonial architecture. I would compare it to Austin in the states, Grenada in Spain, or Guanajuato in central Mexico, all these cities have a good vibe to them, and are amongst hills. I bought a camera there and I have pics, enjoy...

(X)Jalapa

New Rules of the Road
1. If it´s Wet don´t pack it
I did this with clothes and my tent one day, after one hour, everything smelled like a longshoreman. It's also heavy water you're carrying that you can't drink.

2. Ask people continuously about the route. I do this at every stop and it has saved me misery and possibly death. AND there are a lot of roads not on the map that are hidden gems.

3.Eat and drink all the time.

4. Take your time. I still don´t do this, "I´m in a hurry and I don´t know why", and it has almost doomed my trip. I ran out of the hotel to catch a bus and left behind my helmet and handle bar bag, I was buying the ticket when I realized it. The same bus left every hour from that terminal and I knew it, there was no need to rush, but the American side of me wanted to maximize my time, I have 4 months of time, it was a bad decision. This leads to the next rule.

5. Double check everything
My stuff and the bike. I´m nutorious for losing stuff, so double checking everytime I leave a room and when I stand up is keeping me whole (this was not applied when camera was stolen, I was in the same room but I stood up from the table and it was 10 yards from me). Must check the bike constantly, these roads here don´t only rattle my teeth loose, but screws as well, I almost lost my bike seat in Jalapa lunch hour traffic and a back tire in San Rafeal in front of a political rally.

6. Don´t take extra water.
Strange Rule_ Water is damn heavy, and taking extra liters killed me in the mountains. In the most remote roads, mountains and jungles of Mexico, in my 3 years of traveling here I haven´t gone 5 miles without hitting a pueblo, and where there are people there are always 2 things, Coca-Cola and Bimbo products.

Regrets
One of my 2 shirts is white, I´m washing it constantly, I suck at washing clothes by hand so it´s never clean.
Only have done 145 km, I´ll fix that tomorrow, on to Veracruz.

La Vida Veracruzana

I'm doing it, I'm in Mexico, I crossed the border and I'm moving from here to there on bus at first and now on bike. I did have some doubts that I'd make it down here whilst in Texas, but I was able to break the TV-McDonalds-WalMart chains that can weight Americans down.
My very understanding parents drove me down to McAllen, treated me to a wonderful Lobster & Shrimp pasta at Red Lobster then handed me off to the Taxi driver. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, the pessemistic taxi driver didn't help things either, she swears I can't do it, then I ask if she has ever been outside of Reynosa, she admits she hasn't, I life out the border of US and Mexico will give one a horrible image of our southern neighbors. As soon as I was at the terminal I was off to Tampico, of course everyone who saw the bike asked questions about the trip, then told me I was crazy, and then wished me good luck. The chofer did say he sees bicyclist ever other week doing the same as me, so I'm not alone after all, he even told me about how they'll camp on the side of the road (I will atleast camp out of site of a road).
TAMPICO

Tampico Gallery

This is a cool place, to pass the day. It's a lot like most Mexican cities with its plazas and skinny streets full of people, radios blaring Intocable, people selling you their shirts and taxis honking for your business. I LOVED IT. I think I just missed Mexico en general and Tampico was the receiver of my affection. I met up with Veronica here, we passed the first 3 days of my adventure together, she helped me a ton getting my Spanish back into shape and keeping away the home-sickness that immediatly follows big leaps. Tampico is close to beach Miramar, we went there, it bordered by by a Pemex refinery, it gives the beach a glow as it burns off oil desechuits 24/7. The beach is a lot like the Corpus beach, but a little dirtier, a city right on it's heals, and the refinery, OK so it´s nothing like Corpus. The place isn't that bad, I did have my first taste of Victoria beer since my return, that sweet amber lager that Mexico refuses to export, it's just so good when it hits the lips.

We then bused (Veronica doesn´t have a bike) to Tecolutla

Tecolutla

This is what I'm talking about, this place is close to being a virgin beach, it's at the mouth of river full of mangroves (protected), and a precious plaza full of people day and night. We passed a couple of nights here in a resort type hotel, this was a mistake, booking a place in latin america is tough and is best done when you are there, we paid 800 ($70) pesos a night for reservations (Real de Mar), when a place on the beach (Punta de Arena) with the same facilities cost 300 ($26), but they are not on the internet and the resort was.
We spent one day touring the ruins of El Tajin, amongst the backdrop of a giant weeklong festival down the road, and then later into the truly magical pueblo of Papantla, home of the voladores de Papantla (flyers of Papantla).

El Tajin

El Tajin has carvings that relate a story of how the world was created. There was a younger God who was left alone to watch the Earth while the older Gods were away in the universe, the younger God took the powers of the older Gods and created life on Earth while trying out his new powers, the older Gods come back, upset with what was done, took away his powers and sent him to live with us. Sounds like a Disney rip off to me.

Papantla

Veronica left back to Queretaro yesterday, and I stayed on in Tecolutla one more day, to avoid the traffic from the national holiday that was today. I spent this day talking to fishermen at the docks, the hotel owner Sylvia and her helpers Pancho and Micaela, I also took a tour in the mangroves. It was a really nice day in the pueblo, hopefully the first of many to come.
While getting Veronica to the bus station, my camera was stolen, I had left it on a table near the hammock I was laying in, got up to help Veronica with her bag, turned around and it was gone. What I didn´t know was that people at the hotel saw the woman who stole it, and followed her back to where she was staying. They then found me and brought me to the police station where she was in custody. She denied stealing it, the next step would of been holding her in custody till Tuesday to arraign her, I didn´t want to take this step, so she was left to walk. We were pretty sure that the camera was not going to be found even if she was taken in, she was alone in her hotel an hour before they could get her and her accomplice brother out, the brother then ran on the way to the police station.
SOO, I don´t have a camera, atleast not till Veracruz, I should be there in a week or 2, I'll be reporting in, but no pictures, I'll do what I can to super descriptive in the future.

Starts with a 'C', ends with an 'O', and in the middle is 'hicag'

This has nothing to do with bicycling, but I'll put it up to defend my out-of-training status.

I received an email to do an on-campus interview for the WIU Peace Corps fellowship, I had to be there in 7 days. I checked the airline prices, 400 bones one-way, and then I checked Amtrak, 240 bones, it sounded affordable to me and I've never been on a train before, booked it. I headed up to San Antonio where my Mexican buddy Titus gave me a place to sleep and drove me to the station.

My bud Titus, viva Mexico cabron!

I wish I had more pictures of San Antonio and the train, but they were erased.



I spent 35 hours on the train, I had my own room the size of a restuarant booth, the dining car close by and freedom to roam the other passenger and tourist cars. I took pictures of all this as well, but they too were erased.


I got off the train with 20 minutes to spare to catch my next train. As I started my awkward traveler's sprint, I'm stopped by Billy D Williams.


He whips out a badge and says, "FBI, we have a few questions". I told him, "Look Lando, you can ask me all the questions you want but I have a train to make in 20 mins". He told me not to worry, but I know this guy, he turned is best friend in to the dark side to be carbon frozen. They apprehend me and a cool guy of saudi arabian descent, and took us to the back for questioning. Apparently, taking pictures on and near a train scared the undercover train marshal, so after the interrogation he made me erase my pictures, all but one, Titus and his flag, only after I explained to him twice that the photo had no hidden signifigance. Needless to stay I missed the train, and I stayed a night in Chicago with my good college bud Anthony.

Scene of the government abuse of powers...

I was able to reschedule 80% of the interviews in Macomb the next day (I arrived the next morning 2 hours later than planned), they were really cool about that. I had a good time there, the people that interviewed me were passionate about the program and committed to it, I'm hopeing I'll get to study there in the future. All interviews came to an end and due to the exhausting day before and the 7 o'clock train I hit the sack after my last one.

Back to Chitown....

Arrived at 11:30 and my very good friends Jen and Anthony picked me up and took me on the Michigan Ave. tour.

On the left is the Sears tower, don't let the name fool you, it is not a 100 story department store.

We criss-crossed the Chicago River....

Then we saw a Great Lake....

And then we went on to doooooo, what we doooo, best.

First Stop Goose Island Brewery, we tried 5 delicious beers, some of them twice, we were even provided with a Price is Right girl, Sarah, to present each tasty beverage before it was served.

From here we went back to the house, watched our good friend Borat tell us about his American adventure then hit the infamous Emit's pub with my buds Anthony and Jon ...

Early morning the next day I caught a flight to San Anton, was picked up my buddy Eddy Saenz, and headed off to say my good-byes to the fine Austin people who had taken me in for my month of training. That took all night and a couple of beverages. Now I'm back in Alice and getting ready to head off to McAllen in a few hours to start the trip, next blog will be from a Mexican internet cafe. Thanks for the support fellas.

This is my crazy but supportive father, he is lending me his walk-around helmet for the trip...

I'm going back to Alice, to Alice, to Alice .....

I made my descent from the deserted hills of Sonora to the even more deserted flat lands of Alice. I knew this was my last stop before the trip of my life so I did what Lance does the week before his tours de fancy pants, party...

When I wasn't partying I was either sleeping or training, and that was it. I did get 3 25 mile trips in and did them in record time, avg 15mph, this is no big surprise, the coastal plains are as flat as my 6th grade girlfriend. I also found time to do the most intense training known to modern man, backyard training...

This intense training regiment was pushing me to the edge, I was lucky enough to be relieved by the college recruiters of WIU, whom scheduled me a campus interview in Macamob, Illinois the 9th of March. See ya in Chicago.

This blog is Eddy Saenz approved.