Inertia

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Inertia

1. physics resistance to change: the property of a body by which it remains at rest or continues moving in a straight line unless acted upon by a directional force

2. apathy: inability or unwillingness to move or act
Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

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1. I had to turn 50.

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It's technically not correct, but aging is like a time inertia and, in the absence of any directional force (and there's only one), it was always going to happen. Mind you, I was happy to turn 50. I've been 50 for years.

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To mark the occasion we planned a stay in the mountains but, as they were booked out on the day, we shuffled from there to the coast for a couple of nights, back to cloud forests and then back to the coast. I had quite the series of birthday moments......

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Open fires, walks in the hills and local pueblos, surfing in the warm Pacific Ocean, drinks on the beach, seafood dinners, spiffy accommodation all round....... And Mary spent hours making me a card with lots of pictures of our travels. A very nice (and impressive) present, especially since we were in San Jose del Pacifico (nowhere) at the time.

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2. And now, we can't move.

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It's partly the spiffy accommodation (Mary's on our balcony in the photo below) and it's partly paradise. It's not apathy but it's definately an inability or unwillingness to move or act.
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A Very Warm Ocean

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The road between Oaxaca and the coast is around 300 km and 6 hours of unrelenting twists and turns ("Curva Peligrosa" ...... many people recommend the flight instead) across a range of spectacularly steep and forested mountains, through plueblos set along ridges, and past houses and stores perched precariously on stilts beside the highway. There are frequent comedors (food places) with great views and apt, if not understated, names like "Linda (pretty) Vista" and"Curva Comedor".
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We were lucky to have broken the trip in half at the cloud forests before descending (twice - had 2 days at the coast on my B'day) the 3000m to the warm Pacific Ocean and a Mexico remarkably like anywhere in tropical Asia.
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We're currently at one of a series of beach spots strung between 2 ports. This one (San Agustinillo - a fishing village plus tourist spot) is just perfect. Beachfront (waves, sand and then our room) accommodation, pretty safe (but big) surf (great for body surfing) and restaurants with beach lounges and tables and chairs to chill out in during the day and relax at over seafood (thank god it's not frijoles and bistek) and an iced margarita or (otherwise impossible to source) wine at night. The water is extremely warm .... a cold shower after a swim to cool off!

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People wander along the beach during the day trying to sell you stuff constantly. We take turns (to give the other a chance to read) to politely fend them off. Except my favourite man in Mexico. An old fellow who wheels a barrow along the sand carrying a beautifully shiney vat containing several flavours of homemade helado (gelato).

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Today we moved to one of the spiffiest places in town and into what we think is the best room (up top and jutting onto the small headland between two pretty beaches) for three nights for my (belated) 50th B'day.
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Cloud Forests

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Oaxaca (wha-ha-ka) was very nearly the spot for our initial Spanish-learning phase in Mexico (but for Google images). It has such a lovely name and was touted as "a wonderful Colonial city" (Monty Python and Venice come to mind). We thought, while heading east, we should stop in and settle for a while for more classes to build on our rather shakey (especially mine) foundations laid down in the now absolutely wonderful Guanajuato.

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The town didn't suit us - either too up-market-US-neat or too local-grundge, and a wee bit hot for me despite it's altitude. Well, maybe not really too hot but it's decent level of heat combined with a recurring bug I seem to have had since leaving LA resulted in a very sick night for me (poor Mary did very well searching for treatment clues and administering to me Florence-like). We had sourced and almost booked a 3 day hike between pueblos in the mountains (around 2-3000m) north of Oaxaca for a B'day treat but abandoned for a cooler clime in the cloud forests of mountains halfway between there and the (Pacific) coast.

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All very gorgeous. We got a cute little cabin with spectacular, constantly changing views, an open fire, decent shower and a desk of own's own.

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Boring as (insert colourful Ambulance term) food (I'm done with bistek (beefsteak), frijoles and tortillas) but a nice km stroll to the nearby pueblo for alternatives.

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The mountains plummet to valleys which almost every evening host an upward swell of mist ending with clouds settling below us. We had a lovely week of cool fresh air, reading by the fire, studying Spanish, walking in the pine-forested hills and making friends with burros.

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A Change of Direction

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Plan B after Guanajuato was to head south to Morelia (another "wonderful Colonial city"). But after reading the paper and deciphering the words that went with a disturbing picture, it seems that the bodies of 16 Federal police (we saw quite of lot of recruitment posters for Federal police) were found there after a moment of retaliation by drug lords .... even though Morelia is clearly not a border (US) town.

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Mexico City seemed relatively safe. The city is, as you might expect, big and an interesting mix of old and new sprawling out across previously individual towns.

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A double decker tourist bus showed us a great deal of the city and gave us our bearings for independent excursions as well as dropping us off at various museums and galleries including the very lovely house where Frida Kahlo (a favourite with (especially) Mexican women and me) was born and lived for many years +/- Diego (don't like him).

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We saw lots and lots of police (at once comforting and disturbing) of various specialisations. One morning we were in the company of several bus loads of riot police (guns, shields, helmets and flack jackets .....) keeping the peace during a little demonstration. Then there were truckloads of army personnel cruising by (they seem a friendly lot) and ubiquitous transit police (looking rather smart) standing at or in intersections blowing whistles and waving frantically to speed traffic through, occasionally against the lights (little green "walk" men are of little value). The also carry guns. Not sure what the penalty is for a breach of traffic laws but it might be significant.

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From within the city doesn't appear very polluted. Quite the clean-up apparently. Odd and even number plates (and their cars) are banned from entering the city (centre?) on alternate days.

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Oh, plan A had been a trip up north to the Copper Canyon for my B'day but it's been put on hold. The canyon, not my B'day. That forced it's way in.

A side trip to San Miguel

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San Miguel de Allende is a lovely (colonial of course) town to the east of here. There's a lot more foreign (mainly US) investment there and consequently the buildings and town (and prices) show a degree of wealth not much evident in Guanajuato. Generally a lot more greenery exists in the streets and the city has several large parks in addition to the usual plazas. It's quite a pretty and relaxed place although receives some criticism for having "too many Americans". Not sure about the level of geography studied here.

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There are lots of cafes, bars and restaurants. We had a lovely evening and dinner on a rooftop terrace overlooking the cathederal drinking absolutely fabulous, antartic margaritas with Anna from our grammer classes.

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San Miguel was a short bus ride away from Guanajuato (an hour and a half) but an interminable ride back. Driving at hair-raising speed around blind bends on the wrong side of the road and overtaking on curves and up hill (on crests) were part of it. A tendency to pull in front of other vehicles and slam on the brakes for effect (and presumably to annoy the other driver) was the icing on the cake. On our (unexpected) safe return I was inspired to use my best Spanish to lodge a complaint ("me no gusta"; "muy peligroso") at the teminal office. The man there appeared to take me seriously. Mind you, his look of concern could have easily been about my lack of words rather than my intended message. I'm seeing that look quite a lot. Back to school....

A walk in the hills

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I had my eye on the hills (mountains I guess) around Guanajuato from the moment I saw them. How to get into them though was a mystery. The odd conversation produced a few hints and suggested, although it always seems dodgey to head off into the "beyond", it was a safe thing to do.

We actually set off for a little trip to the famous-person-statue that looks out over Guanajuato. That turned into a stroll along the road (La Panaramica) that circles around the top of the town. A place not to be ventured into at night apparently (even for Mexicans - as warned by a staff member of our Spanish school). And then we just got closer and closer (comments like "around the next corner"; "just a little bit higher" (from Mary!) etc) and before we knew it, were climbing into the spectacular hills that rise up around Guanajuato.
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Starting from the upper edge of the town, which sits at around 2000m, it's a fairly impressive scramble up to a plateau with massive rocky outcrops worthy of the equivalent of national park status. The land is fairly dry despite regular afternoon thunder storms. The odd burro is grazed up there. There are no fences so the poor things have their front legs tied (tightly) together to stop them going too far.

Auditory Overload

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You might think the alleys would be quiet but Guanajuato has an insatiable appetite for fiestas and nowhere is safe.

Most nights (weather permitting and I've taken to praying for rain) touring bands of musicians and singers wind up and down through the streets and alleys with 100 or so followerers pausing every now and then (and regularly just up from our windows at 11 pm) to sing or relate some historic event. It's a practice from the past and mostly for tourists (mainly Mexican) but local families seem to join in as well for a bit of an outing. There's absolutely no point trying to sleep (even with ear plugs and sleeping pills) until they pass.

But as if to punish all those who stay up late (and we're all forced to), men who have the unforntunate job of supplying houses with very large gas cylinders (carried on their shoulders from the streets at the bottom of the ravine) commence to wander through the alleys calling out "gaaaaaaassssss" at dawn.

And fireworks? Whenever someone (at any time of day or night) feels like it they seem to be able to fire a sizeable rocket into the sky. The "bang" in this tight little valley is quite something.

And then there are the religious fiestas. This morning (for a virgin saint Carmen we think) the bells (as tuneful as a toddler with a very big stick plus saucepan) and rockets began around 5.30 am. They went for about 30 minutes non stop. Any attempt to go back to sleep was twarted by repeats of the bells plus "canon" fire every five or ten minutes after a break. It's a remarkably tolerated imposition on all by the religious few. There really aren't that many footsteps heading off to church. Although I'm about ready to wander down myself and fire my own rocket.

Alleys of Guanajuato

Since traffic in the old centre is restricted to a few main roads at the bottom of town, access to everything on the steep sides of the valley is by foot (or the odd motor bike) along winding alleyways (callejones) and stairs.

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Genarally, the further you go from the main thoroughfares the thinner and shabbier things become. But where people have the money and/or interest they paint the buildings bright colours and hang plants from their windows and balconies.

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Sub-terrainian Guanajuato

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Guanajuato, sits mainly in a steep valley at 2000m. It's an old colonial town and extremely pretty. Traffic (except the odd mountain goat of a motor bike) is restricted to a few main streets and numerous, pretty (think a land version of Venice) sunken and underground tunnels, some of which run along the old river bed. The river was diverted after it flooded the town in 1905 (I think).




Pedestrain access to the sunken roads and tunnels is via sets of (geranium capped) stairs scattered around the old city centre.

Guanajuato, Mexico

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Not a sick pig in sight but all this talk about the flu has left Guanajuato (our first stop), and probably Mexico as a whole, just a little less well (off) than it already was.

For our part, we've ignored the travel warnings (although we did fold a wee bit under pressure and bring masks and tamiflu) and defied the travel insurance people to embrace Mexico by enrolling in Spanish lessons, taking a tiny unit for one month and sitting in the pretty town plazas with a cerveza or bad wine (which is mostly what it is) to do our bit for common sense and the economy.

The town has about 70,000 people and sits in a pretty impressive valley at 2000m above sea level. It's surrounded by very impressive mountains.