Going North

Friday we leave Pátzcuaro and start our 1800 mile trek north to the California border near Yuma (Arizona) where we will complete Layne’s two tooth implants. We have been resting all week in the park-like ambiance of the Villa Pátzcuaro campground, an oasis of shade amid distant city noises. 

The swimming pool is mysteriously out of order but we have electricity, sewer dump, hot showers and lots of nearby shopping laundry banking and so forth in a very beautiful city. And this time of year tourism is down and seasonal foreigners are back in the States and Canada.

Shirtless Stephane from Alberta was teaching Chris from Washington how to play washers, a weird Canadian sport where you put a coffee can in a drawer on the ground and throw washers into it. About as weird as curling I suppose, or playing hockey on ice. Watched avidly by Squirt who two weeks ago was starving in the streets of El Tule near Oaxaca: 

He has plumped up nicely. I threaten to roast him with potatoes for dinner but he just licks my face. 11:30 Friday the plan is to drop him off to his new life in San Miguel de Allende with a doting California dog lover who lives in a gated community with her own small active dog who needs a playmate. On first acquaintance they got on famously and I have no qualms about leaving him there. And now Rusty has an eye infection which the vet said should heal with daily cleaning with antibiotic laden saline solution. You can imagine how much he enjoys that but after two days we see significant improvement already. 

Rusty had not been happy, hanging by himself and ignoring Squirt chewing his bed and licking his paws. This process of securing Squirt a new home has gone on too hlong for all of us and as nice as sitting under the trees reading is, we are ready to return to travel as a threesome. We have a lot of driving planned in parts of Mexico new to us and I hope to glimpse the famed Copper Canyon this trip. Oh and the Pancho Villa museum where he was killed in Parral. Meanwhile we are in Pátzcuaro a city of some beauty. 

A church turned into a library when Mexico revolted agains the Catholic Church domination in the country: 

A statue of Gertrudis Bocanegra an 1817 martyr in the Mexican War of Independence. 

The small square named for her is a hub of commerce in Pátzcuaro. 

Lots of delicious pastries and puddings for sale on the sidewalks. I got my favorite, a custard filled pastry cone which I shared with Rusty. Squirt found the city overwhelming and we soon left him safe in the van. 

We made a sentimental journey to the top of the hill overlooking the city to the other RV park we have stayed at, called Rancho La Mesa. It’s one of those destinations in Mexico where Google maps sends you by the “fastest route” which is a hellish collection of alleys and tight turns and steep narrow streets. The easier route involves going round the back and bumping up a wide dirt road over a bridge. That’s the main highway in the distance:

And a wide east of bumpy dirt road to our favorite restaurant. Oh yes, the campground at La Mesa has a first rate place to eat. 

We also met an old friend, one of the farm dogs up at the ranch. A round of cookies and some chat. She told Rusty nothing much has changed since we were last here. 

The restaurant has a cracking view over the city and the lake which we drove around last year. 

We shared a lunch with Michoacán dried meat to start.  It’s called cecina (“sesina”) served with beans and of course tortillas. The meat is served “golden” that is with no sauce which you add yourself. We’ve had it in scrambled eggs for breakfast but it is better like this, jerky that tastes of beef. 

You can have an ostrich burger but I went for good old fashioned beef. It’s not “Mexican” but it’s delicious here. 

Layne had carrot cake but I had “ronpopo” which is egg nog and has the wet consistency of tres leches but tastes more of custard. My favorite washed down with cinnamon coffee. Yes it was a blow out and we napped heavily back at the campground. 

Lunch with a view for less than $30. 

We got an oil change, we bought pesos at the bank, we did boring stuff like you do because we don’t have servants. But retirement suits me, making my own routine and enjoying my leisure. On the subject I’ve been reading a book by a man who walked Baja in the early 1980s. He’s a tad bit too spiritual occasionally for my taste and I think that put me off the book when I bought it years ago but with age cones tolerance and I’ve been devouring it. 

Perhaps the fact that I’ve since  Baja adds to its appeal but it is a bizarre undertaking. He does it with no money, a constant stress, and leaves himself open to meeting and living with fishermen in crude fish camps and Gringo campers enjoying the wilderness he is struggling to walk through. It’s a great adventure and I’m glad I went back to it. You can give him on Facebook I’m told now in his seventies still camping and now kayaking the Baja wilderness. Graham Mackintosh found  his wilderness in Baja. 

We hope to be on the road by the time this posts, dropping off Squirt in San Miguel de Allende then driving north toward Durango leaving this park like campground and staying we hope in a friendly truck stop! Life on the road…

“A” is the mountain resort of Creel where I’d like to take a couple of days to rest.  

“B” is Hermosillo capital of Sonora in the desert. 

“C” is Rocky Point a beach resort not to our taste but where we hope to pause and swim.