Uruapan

I have to say I amaze myself sometimes when I look around and ask myself: how did I get here? All too often on this trip so far the answer is: I have no idea. Let it be noted I take none of it for granted but yesterday really took the biscuit. 

To get to that cold brisk and thoroughly enjoyable pool we have to go back to eight am. And that puts us in Nueva Italia de Ruiz in a truck stop after a long silent peaceful night’s sleep. In a Mexican truck stop? Always. They don’t waste gas idling their engines like wasteful Americans. I walked Rusty and dropped off a bag of food for the resident dog at the convenience store. I also saw a young man crouched nearby and later I realized he made ends meet cleaning truck windshields. 

You can imagine how that made me feel. Ah Mexico, a heartless mistress. This guy had parked his 34 wheel double trailer, a hundred feet long in such a way he had to back up to make the turn out of the parking lot. The driver was asleep and I never saw him do it. High intensity truck driving in Mexico where skills can be surprising. 

As I walked back to the van with Rusty I saw the Guardia Nacional Charger coming towards me. The waitress from last night's dinner stuck her head out of her boyfriend's (I assume) car and waved with a big grin on her face. She had liked that I had cleaned the plate I figured and she remembered me, the only gringo that week or month who was smart enough to eat at her place. Guess what? The blue lights came on! As the white Dodge Charger passed me I saw a little blue car creeping the wrong way into the truck stop on the shoulder with its four way flashers on. The Charger parked in front of him and I heard the loud hailer asking the unfortunate victim what the hell did he think he was doing? Choosing the worst possible timing to break down I thought to myself as I slunk gratefully away.

The black speck in the photo above is the first chip out of our windshield caused by a high speed red Audi that passed us on Highway 37D. Just for the record. If I have to look at it all day now you can too. No editing. The billboard is a request of a vote for support for President Obrador known by his initials as AMLO. He is on the left of Mexican politics but he was the only world leader who didn’t seem to piss off President Trump sooner or later. Must be quite the politician. While he’s at it he could try upgrading the electrical system in the suburbs I thought. 

Uruapan calls itself the world capital  of the avocado which we now know is attracting cartel attention! The United States temporarily banned avocado imports from Michoacán on the ground avocados are   part of the cartel economy. Our approach to the heart of the city was interrupted by a deviation. Road works. In the middle of all this I got a call from my health insurance company who needed an update on my policy. I tried to find somewhere to park while hoping Boca Raton right then might sink into the Atlantic. “Your phone is a bit muffled” Christine remarked rather peeved. I wanted to say potholes that big could kill all communications but she wouldn’t have got it. 

After a while driving my absurdly large heavy van through dirt or through crowded narrow streets becomes second nature. Here for the first time I was reminded what awaits us in Central America next year. Guatemala is much poorer than Mexico and the streets I’ve driven in those countries are more like this: 

This is poverty in Mexico and middle class in Nicaragua. 

I don’t think photos reproduce the chaos of the street surfaces we travel over lurching and bouncing. This was a ghastly pothole but it doesn’t look so bad does it? 

I even found a spot to park with some helpful spotting from Layne. I eventually remembered to fold the mirrors in. 

Laynes legs had been bitten to death on the beach by insects and had gone a little septic. A pharmacist at the supermarket had prescribed some Benedryl and some cream which was working wonders. However she still needed rest as we had been having some fairly busy days here. And Rusty needed some alone time with his helicopter parent. The tripe seller waved cheerfully on cue. I don’t eat tripe. I’m not Anthony Bourdain. And I’m not on TV so I don’t have to. 

I was the token gringo in town yesterday as I wandered this utterly Mexican town. On the way into town Layne had spotted a KFC much to my amazement. There were no other familiar brands from Up North visible downtown.  

I did find an English language bumper sticker…I wondered what the journey was that brought this Suzuki Tracker here. So many Mexicans have connections in the US, family members, work history, school, I find it quite surprising. I probably sound naive but it is surprising to come face to face with the glow of people to the US and more interestingly from the US. 

I enjoyed walking the streets of Uruapan with my little Panasonic LX100. I exit my pictures on the Snapseed app after I download them on my phone. The. I upload them to the Google cloud where I label them with key words so I can retrieve pictures quite easily. 

Everything was of interest to me. “He who hunger suffers, of bread he thinks.” A poetic sentiment contorted in my translation but an odd sentiment in a country devoted to the tortilla! 

Mother operating the fruit cart while the older daughter monitors her younger brother. 

Not an easy living pushing a cart in 85+ degree sunshine. The yield sign advises “one at a time.” 

Uruapan was found in 1533 by a Catholic friar called Juan de San Miguel who forced the devil to kneel before him in the National park in the city. More prosaically he built a hospital, the first in the Spanish colonies in the city. The population is 360,000 and lucky then the city is at 5300 feet which gives us lucky campers warm sunny days and cool big free nights. Cold enough Layne insists we close the side door. 

The city is known as the avocado capital because of the many processing plants and I had no idea avocados get processed but this is where that mysterious process takes place. Now you know. 

I saw quite a few newspaper stands locked and closed advertising the paper’s website but I still found one good old fashioned street newspaper kiosk. 

And a reader of the paper edition! Not my best shot in the Plaza of the Martyrs but he was definitely reading the paper!  

It was a good walk and I enjoyed the city. We found an excellent campground oddly enough on iOverlander that invaluable app. The previous campers did t much like the spot but we loved it at the “Foot of the Mountain” hotel a deliciously old fashioned like full of charm and character.

Rusty and I walked the driveway after we settled in. 

The buildings are a collection of rooms set around the pool overlooking the city. 

It seemed a remarkable privilege to wander the hotel, swim in the pool and use the restaurant for $15 a night. 

This was lobby parking…

… and this is the campground all to ourselves. The 120 volt plugs work in a couple of spots and there is one faucet with water. We had the field to ourselves.  

Rusty found his happy spot. He was tired from the city walk in the heat. 

There is traffic noise and some dogs barking occasionally and we are tolerant even if not perfectly level. 

Weirdly enough we like it very much here. There’s stuff to see in the city, photographs to come and swimming to be done. Three days here? 

More interesting mountain towns to explore. Mexico far from the beach. 

Mountains

If you look at a map you will see a Highway 37D marked leaving the coast south of Lazaro Cardenas and going inland, into the mountains towards the capital of Michoacán called Morelia. Photos do not do the road justice: it was jaw droppingly beautiful. Oh, and no potholes. We were doing 65 mph on a couple of stretches…

Sunday started started on coastal Highway 200 leaving Our House campground in Barra de Potosí and stopping finally about an hour south of Zihuatanejo and about 120 miles north of Acapulco at another campground. More campgrounds less wild camping has been the story in this part of Mexico. 

Highway 200 never disappoints and here we drove south through Petatlan a town blessed with an extraordinary two lane bicycle path dotted with exercise stations and children’s playgrounds. Why? I have no idea. A person of influence perhaps with a penchant for fitness? 

We stopped when we saw a fruit stand so I took Rusty for a walk and Layne loaded up with bananas and broccoli. We had stir fried broccoli and tofu for dinner which it may surprise you to learn I enjoy very much. 

GANNET2 affords us the ability to live at home and in our own familiar environment and that allows us to refresh ourselves. We aren’t living out of suitcases or standing around in hotel lobbies. When we close the doors of an evening we are in our  space wherever we are, as much as you are in your space as you read this. So we ate tofu and mixed tequila with hibiscus juice and ignored Mexico for a while to recharge our batteries. We’ve been on the road four months and we aren’t close to cultural overwhelm. 

I still enjoy driving Mexico’s roads. Drivers are patient and polite and I never know what I’m going to see. 

The white painted tire is the street sign for tire repair services. 

Our destination on iOverlander was a universally popular campground just off the highway run by two Canadians, lovely people called Mark and Lorraine. Their family has owned the land, originally a hotel for decades. Nowadays it’s a campground and undergoing renovations. We liked it very much as they are cheerful and friendly and know what travelers are looking for. They get universally outstanding ratings on iOverlander. 

The campground is a useful stop south of Zihuatanejo, a tourist town not very well equipped to serve campers and RVs. We had decided to rent an apartment for a week to revisit Laynes’s old haunts around town and to take a break from driving. The idea of a comfortable air conditioned home in the high heat and humidity along with city walks and a sense of living in a neighborhood was quite appealing. 

This spot was our southernmost point, and from here we would begin the journey back to Arizona. We are going to take a couple of months but the trajectory is inevitable. I’d like to keep going south but that is the plan for next October. This summer we will be fine tuning our vehicle and storage and making one last visit to see friends. Now we know the route through Mexico next November we will not be exploring but making good time when we start our drive to Argentina. We hope not to be back in the States for several years. 

Lorraine recommended the eatery next door with a lovely dipping pool as the ocean here is frantic with swells. Seconds after I made the picture, the pool of a Sunday afternoon was packed with screaming children having fun. Never mind a different kind of frantic. We ordered tritas  of fish. No idea what they were. We soon found out! 

It was a plate of raw fish and sliced onion in lime juice. I prefer my fish cooked but it wasn’t at all bad. A great deal like ceviche and packed with protein! I got through it. 

Meet Chula, Rusty’s cousin. Lorraine and Mark among other traits love dogs and rescued this little girl from eight years in the local pound. Withdrawn and shy she was always overlooked. And guess what she is Rusty’s double except she has a brown nose and a pink tongue and is quite shy around strangers where he isn’t. 

Lorraine expected Chula to bark at Rusty invading her space. Instead they said hello and stuck their noses up each other’s butts and went their separate ways. They are like identical twins except there is no sentiment on either side. 

I took Rusty for a sunset walk on the weird beach, a strip of black sand backed by pebbles. Mark said the worst of this summer’s hurricane was sea action with big waves luckily for him broken up by an offshore reef in front of his land. He’s weird as he likes hurricanes. He says working in the rain is cooler and he likes the drama of the wind. Irma in 2017 put me firmly into the “I don’t like hurricanes” school of thought. 

After the old hotel on the site collapsed they took out 150 dump trucks of debris. Coincidentally a  couple of South African motorcyclists passing by said they should go all in as a campground and listed them on iOverlander which changed their focus. They are renovating the area now with plans for facilities for RVs in a cleaver layout. 

Mark liked our van and our plans.  He said he sees lots of people who reach is place and realize their vehicles are too large and complex for travel into less well developed countries to the south. He says many turn back to get something more manageable. I confess I was quite pleased by his vote of support for GANNET2. Webb Chiles write and mentioned he wasn’t surprised we got out of the soft sand as he felt we were well prepared. This test run in Mexico has been quite validating. 

Apparently the campground this fall will have ten RV spaces with full hookups and areas for tents and cars to make best use of the space. That is Rusty, definitely and not Chula seen below guarding his home. 

We ran the air conditioning while plugged in but by three in the morning when I needed to pee it was cool and the moon was out and I watched the ocean fir a while all by myself. I will kiss it when we are inland in the mountains. 

Monday we left after just one night. We had the apartment we had rented. We did some grocery shopping at the “Mega Soriana” which would be just ten minutes walk from where we were going to live. Handy and this place is vast!

It didn’t go well.  We knew where we had to go and we met the landlord’s representative. Layne saw the room and came down to me standing by with the van and she was in tears. Not at all as advertised. We split. Let me say no more than that. We were out a hundred bucks deposit and glad to be free once again. 

When things go wrong you pick yourself up and move on. It’s not hard when you are footloose and fancy free. These glitches remind me how nice it is to not owe anyone anything, explanations, excuses or changes of plan. We changed our plan simply to suit us. We left Zihuatanejo around 4:30 with a two hour drive to a truck stop in the mountains about 50 miles short of Uruapan (see map below). 

I can’t tell you how much joy this drive brought us, wiping away the day.  This smooth clean mountain road snaked up into mountains as austere and beautiful as any I have seen in real life or even in photographs. It was an unexpected, unasked for gift in compensation for the disappointments of day. 

We were alone on the road with trucks buses and a handful of cars and pickups. There were no houses or towns in sight. The mountains were devoid of farming or roads or buildings. All we could see was power lines sinking between pylons built on impossibly tall sheer peaks. 

It was heaven on a highway. Glorious. We saw what appeared to be fish farming at one point: 

The lakes, wide doors in the river really, looked quite full as we passed over and around them with only a few feet of evaporation showing a white stripe. And between lakes we drove over rivers and gorges on lovely new orange and yellow bridges that looked like Legos and felt as solid as rocks with all the truck traffic. 

A tunnel as well illuminated as any European equivalent.  

The magic third lane appeared on the two lane highway. I hung back on the shoulder letting the daredevils lead the way, en masse. 

The scenery never got worse, never stopped surprising us. 

The only slight fly in the ointment was the temperature. It never dropped below 89 and when we hit the flatlands around Nueva Italia it was 96 as we pulled into the Pemex and filled up with $67 worth of regular. Thank you American Express, a few more pints for a hotel later! 

Layne was happy to see a restaurant but when I walked Rusty I saw clean  restrooms and showers, a Dodge Charger police cruiser of the Guardia Nacional monitoring the truck stop and a grassy median with picnic tables and a children’s playground. We lacked for nothing. 

The heat wasn’t humid and Rusty was surprisingly energetic! This is known as the “hot valley” of Michoacán state. It’s where agriculture is a huge economic mover with massive production of avocados and limes which have become embroiled in gang activity. Eight years ago the New Generation cartel tried to muscle in on the Knights Templar (silly name!) gang turf and fighting erupted with military intervention as well. I don’t know where you were in 2014 but my life has changed a lot since then. As has Mexico. 

Bruce sent me a BBC report of police activity in a nearby city of Apatzingán headquarters of the Knights Templar cartel an hour northwest of us here in Nueva Italia. I can assure you there is no sign of crime wars, cartels or military activity beyond normal checkpoints that continue to ignore us. Please be assured everything is calm and quite safe here. 

The US recently put a temporary ban on avocado imports from Michoacán saying the fruit was part of illegal gang money laundering because the cartels are blackmailing farmers driving up prices of  limes and avocados. It’s got so bad restaurants are rationing the limes they offer customers to squeeze in their food. Even I have noticed and some limes barely have any juice to spice up your fish. 

No one bothered us as is always the case in these truck stops  and traffic slows down a lot at night so dbgibe noise is zero in our well insulated van which cuts out the presence of the world outside. Cartels have no interest in tourists or drawing attention to themselves by harming innocent tourists no matter what you read or what drama you may be invited to think. Mexico is vast and complicated and filled with as many banal criminals as any other country. I fear random violence before I worry about drug cartels running their very successful businesses. The US is their market as Americans consume tons of drugs to alleviate pain and boredom. They’re better off coming here to get their minds blown. This is an amazing country. Apatzingán is just off the map to the left.  

Dinner was $7 and that included free WiFi which is how I downloaded all these pictures! Pretty slick eh? 

It was a serene end to a disappointing day. Now we have new cities to visit! 

Uruapan, Patzcuaro and Morelia next. No idea how this is going to go. No more beaches till we take the ferry to Baja in a few weeks.