South To Michoacán

I was really looking forward to driving Highway 200 down the Pacific coast of Mexico, especially the stretch through Michoacán to Lazaro Cardénas. You can see why: 

But before we reached those spectacular views we had to make our first camp inside Michoacán state. Switching from Colima state it was obvious the ride was going to be rougher. The potholes were filled in but by hand so the road was no longer smooth but full of rumbles and shakes. We traveled at 40 miles per hour. After we left our campsite. 

I went for a walk first thing in the morning back at our roadside camp at Cuyutlan. It was a Sunday morning and there were a couple of people on the beach in the distance. Up close I came across turtle tracks to what only could be a nest. I was surprised as this was not, I thought, the season.  But there again, what do I know? 

Rusty went off to explore and between photos ( I have many more stashed in the cloud! ) I kept an eye on him. I buried his morning eggs and we were ready for the off. Back to Highway 200 and The South. 

It was a holiday weekend as that  Monday was Constitution Day in Mexico. Everyone was out and about and some people clearly had the day off. These things might, in my opinion offer even more fun than a motorcycle. Blasphemy I know but just think what you could do with such a machine and a tent…

Some roadside scenery leaves you begging for answers but this roundabout decoration outside Tecoman had nothing in reply. Feast your eyes on what I judge to be amorous rodents. You may be surprised to learn that despite the distraction I negotiated the turns flawlessly (more or less). 

You know how in the US you are required to have properly bolted seats with proper seatbelts etc etc… and in Europe the rules are even more strict? If you want the freedom to make your own choices Mexico might be the place for you. Note also they are properly situated on the shoulder in case the magic third lane needs to be deployed. After the intersection I claimed the non existent middle lane and got behind the box truck which was unencumbered  by armchairs and moving a little faster. 

I was pretty certain other cars on Highway 200 would be ready to pass the truck and my position behind him enabled me to illustrate for you the passing technique coined by my friend Ron. Where two lanes exist traffic moves to the shoulder to allow a passing car to use his so- called “magic third lane.” 

Not I grant you a brilliant photo below but if you need picnic supplies on a holiday or a noontime snack you can do worse than stop for ribs (costillas) with the fixings. If Funions and a Coke are more your speed 24 hour Oxxo stores and Kiosko marts will supply all the junk food you know and love and some stuff you’ve never seen before. I hope I’m not beating you over the head but believe me traveling through Mexico is easy and fun.  It really is. 

Flat tire? No problem. Llanteras are everywhere you see a tire standing by the side of the road usually painted in white letters. They will fix a flat there and then and some are mobile ready to come to your eighteen wheeler or sedan stuck by the road. Anyone who tells you to carry two spares in Mexico or to carry spare fuel in jugs is stuck in the 1950s. Pat them paternally on the head and use common sense. We carry a full spare (with a breaker bar after my Louisiana experience!) as well as a tire plug kit. I also have a compressor and an air down kit if we need to deflate the tires for long stretches of rough dirt. We may need that in Baja on the way north. Laundry, motorcycle parts and tire repair in one building below: 

We have a range of 370 to 400 miles though we are heavily loaded and the roads are steep so I am counting on only 14 or 15 mpg. Nevertheless gas is everywhere in modern gas stations. You pull up and ask for Magna or 87 (ochenta siete) and override the gas attendant’s belief your Promaster runs on diesel. Unless you’re at Costco all gas stations are full serve and no tip is expected. We usually stop at name brand stations and most often Pemex as they tend to have rest stop areas. I’ve even seen hand made signs selling gasolina in tiny villages which I’m guessing is for locals riding motorbikes. We have our old Baja filter from our sailboat days to  clean suspect fuel if we ever need to deploy it. Not so far we haven’t as the pumps are all very modern. We pay by credit card in the bigger stations and with cash in smaller villages. Layne checks our credit and bank accounts online like a hawk to prevent fraud. I talked to a Sprinter couple who said they have had no difficulties even though they are supposed to use unobtainable ultra low sulphur diesel. Come as you are I’d suggest and worry less. 

In the picture above you can see a Tope next to the pedestrian. It’s fairly typical of speed bumps which are usually painted but not always. I watch for them in approaches to and from villages and anywhere there may be pedestrian traffic. Sometimes their locations defy common sense but you can often spot the invisible or stupid ones by the behavior of other traffic. If either of us sees a Tope (properly pronounced “tow- pay”) we shout it out in English “taupe!” Some people will tell you your vehicle needs superhuman ground clearance to get over topes but like the spare fuel gurus and two spare  tire aficionados  you can look around and see how low slung local vehicles are. Promasters are used as ambulances in Mexico and they do fine!

Most of what you think you know about Mexico is long out of date, all that stuff about crooked cops and bandits and bribes and so on. Ron got stopped by two cops for turning right on the red right in front of them in Manzanillo as they stood in the sidewalk. Please don’t do that again was the gist of their conversation. He smiled and drove off trying to remember not to turn right on the red. Everyone does it as do I but I’ll try to remember not to do it in front of the cops even if I have an impatient line behind me.

Every time we make a decision to leave another  perfect spot I get a little thrill of excitement as I get behind the wheel looking forward to another day of unknowns. The coast road winds up mountains and across valleys of palms with occasional ocean glimpses. The land is narrow and we are discovering any flat spot by the water suitable for camping has been taken. 

The charges range from one hundred pesos ($5) for the van for a night up to $20 for a more formal US style campground with hot water and dump stations usually at the sites. Sometimes we pay ten bucks for the two of us but we haven’t found spots where we could hang out by the water for free, though there are possible overnight stops in open spaces along the highway. 

The scenery is astonishing and paying ten bucks for a cold shower and flushing toilet in a campground by ourselves is fine by us. The sunset views under the palapa are worth every drop of red wine we brought with us 

The only fly in the ointment is we are off the grid which is why my posts have been so erratic. I write these offline and try to post them or schedule them for posting whenever we get a signal. Thanks for your messages of encouragement because I would not like anyone to think I tire of creating memories of these lovely places. 

Road Update

Barra De Nexpa, Michoacán 

Our actual position as of Thursday 10th of February is in a surfers campground (!) on the bank of a river. They surf in the ocean and we swim in the river. 

$7 a day means we may stay a few days. This lost coast is like that. We got trapped in a beach camp with no network services but an astonishing beach so I had to write the posts offline and I am now going to post them by schedule to catch up. 

I do apologize for the silence but I really enjoy writing my posts and keeping track of our route and events along the way. I will look forward to reading this diary in eventual old age. It’s just that sometimes Telcel has no signal and WiFi is not yet considered the essential service we may expect from campgrounds. 

Anyway back to normal I hope for a while. 

Cheers, Michael and Layne and Rusty

GANNET2 

Promaster 3500 Ext 

Manzanillo To Cuyutlan

Van Life influencers in the US will tell you staying at Walmart is a good way to spend a night on the road. We prefer rest areas but finally here in Manzanillo we got to stay at a Walmart and it was a good spot for a quiet night, oddly enough. No one cared to even notice us. 

Rusty and I got up before dawn and took a walk. I could hear the huge Pacific Ocean swells crumping hard on the sand with a thump like thunder, from a block away. I passed a night guard getting ready to go home from a gated community he had been guarding all night. I had a few words of sympathy for him after my years of night watch at 911 in Key West. The sign we saw at the beach warned us not to interfere with hatching turtles. 

Manzanillo is only slightly tuned to tourism. Freighters were anchored offshore waiting to use the port facilities. The beach was empty as the sun came up around 7 am Central Time. By the time we got back Layne was awake and I dropped Rusty’s morning egg into the public trash cans before the city workers showed up to clear the trash, carefully separating cans. I wondered if aluminum is a tip for the workers. 

We liked Manzanillo and the neighborhood where we had done our chores. We determined to go back so we loaded with water putting thirty gallons into our 35 gallon tank. Google maps works as well here as it does in the US so we entered car wash (auto lavado) into the search and found one that had a good review and wasn’t far. Off we went down those neat, tree lined avenues. 

They wanted 120 pesos to wash the exterior of the van. We’d cleaned the interior at Walmart as best we could in the parking lot. The dust and sand from the beach was everywhere. Another security guard walking home paused, not to annoy us or move us on but to ask if we had a problem and needed a hand. 

We gave them 200 pesos ($10) and made three workers very happy with a modest four dollar tip. Our weekly budget in Mexico is $625. Our last week at Tenacatita we spent $205. This week we ended up spending $365. I’m not fussed about giving money away to people working in a country where $10 a day is the minimum wage. 

We drove by the roast chicken lady called Elizabeth who gave us curbside service handing over her aunts $1:50 home made cheese -queso blanco. 

Shopping in Mexico is Layne’s hobby in between walking neighborhoods of hunting swimming beaches. 

We made a final trip to the restaurant next door to Lavanderia MAR where the night before we bought pozole (hominy stew) and where the cook gave us a tasting of the best spicy grilled shrimp tacos we’ve had. He offered us ceviche in a glass and a ceviche taco which he described as in the Mazatlan style. 

Our lunch was delicious with Layne going for the shrimp tacos while I tried a meat roll up (rollo) with bacon and vegetables inside the roll. We left stuffed with thanks to Jose and Edelmira for their hospitality. 

We followed Google maps blue line out of the city. We tried to get Aristocort at a readers suggestion to deal with sea lice itching. The pharmacists knew of it but didn’t carry it. We found a cortisone cream in our first aid kit which has helped. In the end though we had clean clothes, a clean van inside and out, a full water tank and empty trash cans. 

We took the Cuota south paying not a single toll on the road and I don’t know why they were waving everyone through. I approached the toll booth in the car lane as that is what we rate and to my horror there were height restrictors over the car lane. We need three meters and they offered two and a half…the trucks in the right lane were stretched out in front and behind us. As I paused checking my options the truck to the right saw my dilemma and stopped to let me in. I waved my gratitude and it was no problem at all.  

The northbound lanes of the highway were jammed. For miles. Somewhere out of sight there must have been an accident. The jam, trapped by a cement divider sat quietly in line waiting. I was so grateful that wasn’t us…eventually the Guardia Nacional had a road block to divert traffic off the freeway. We pressed on in the afternoon sun passing ocean glimpses and coconut and banana plantations. Our plan was to stop at s wild camp on a beach road. 

The beach road was smooth as a billiard table lined with expensive homes most for sale of rent overlooking another endless beach. This was the wealthy street loosely attached to the little town of Cuyutlan. We were racing sunset to check the campsite would work. You never know if reality matches the Internet report and our alternative was another uninteresting truck stop on the toll road. 

We needn’t have worried. The turtle eco center at the end of the road was closed for the day and we found a tiny turn out to accommodate our modest 21foot home. The surf was huge so swimming wasn’t an option. Rusty and Layne and I went for a walk. It’s always tiring working your way around a strange city doing your chores. 

A couple of cars came by on a Saturday evening to watch the sunset. A smile, a wave, some red tail lights rapidly disappearing up the smooth road. We were completely alone watching the golden moon set over the silver ocean as night fell. It was lovely. 

This was the start of our Internet connectivity woes! We were slipping out of the Mexican coast dotted with towns and cities. We were going to Michoacán a stretch of wild empty coast with valleys filled with tropical plantations and cliffs dropping into the water like California’s empty Big Sur Coast of eighty years ago. 

Colima is a small relatively wealthy state with decent infrastructure including well paved roads. Michoacán is a sprawling mountainous state, a source of field labor in the western U.S. where farm workers will tell you this large poor state is their home. There are Indian tribes here largely ignored by the central government and resentful of that deliberate forgetfulness. 

To compensate for agricultural poverty Michoacán has a reputation for drug trafficking which holds back tourism despite the lack of connection between tourists and drug dealers. California has its emerald triangle on the Oregon state line but when it’s a Mexican issue there is joy in exaggerating dangers and dealers and all that pleasure in fear mongering. 

It will be an interesting drive on a winding mountain road between lonely beaches and small villages. Connectivity will be sparse until we reach Zihuatanejo so be patient and I look forward to showing you the fearsome and delightful Highway 200 through the land of the best ice creams Mexico has to offer. I can’t wait. 

Manzanillo,Colima

We meant to spend half a day in Manzanillo (Chamomile Town) but we ended up spending the night and nearly spent another we liked it so much. I think the reason we enjoyed it was that purely by accident we did much of our business in an unpretentious working class neighborhood that you’d never see if you stuck to the arc of the splendid waterfront. Broad modern avenues, palms and in the distance the cranes of the industrial harbor: 

We never even saw the main waterfront as we drove into town to look for another folding office chair to match one we had bought in Culiacan to replace our broken expensive Pico camp chairs. First we did some food shopping at Layne’s favorite grocery store. 

Then the chair:

Then Walmart with its odd mixture of American brands familiar to any North American as well as products decidedly aimed at the local market. These days if you travel south you can rest assured you can find most of what you need in Mexico and you don’t have to lug suitcases filled with what you are used to consuming at home. 

And if you need a motorcycle or scooter they sell those too. This rather attractive Vespa lookalike goes for US $1500 approximately. I saw a few on the roads too. Divide pesos by 20 to get the dollar amount. 

We wanted our clothes done so after we dropped them off at a laundry we found at random on Google maps we walked the neighborhood. Layne has long wanted to be back in the land of whole roast chickens sold on the streets. 

Come back tomorrow she said, I’ll be selling my aunt’s home made cheese. We said we would even though we planned to leave. Across the street we stopped at the bakery. Pick up tongs and a tray and help yourself. 

Colima is a green zone in Mexico, a Covid rating of low infection. The further south we have traveled the less mask wearing we see. 

Manzanillo is a street filled with trees, wide avenues and medians. Rusty made himself at home in various shady spots as we shopped. 

The cobbled streets are a pain in the ass, literally in the van. Some have cement strips which help but there are topes all over the place that cause our van to lurch. Just like this:

Our laundry wouldn’t be ready till 7:30pm so we decided to stay in town for the night. Maybe we’d get the homemade cheese after all. 

I was waiting for the laundry admiring a Honda 160 parked on the street when a distinguished looking man in his 50s showed up and got astride. We ended up talking motorcycles, as you do. He keeps a bigger machine for road trips but the little 160 does well around town. He’d like a van like our Promaster, Marcos said, as he could take his family camping with him. He noticed my Italian accent and said he had visited Italy recently. Mexico is very similar I said. Yes he said but Italians are much louder! 

Night was falling and the little businesses were closing up. Lavanderia MAR had shown us a whole separate side of Manzanillo. 

Van lifers in the States frequently talk of sleeping at Walmart. We never have, preferring freeway rest areas for quick stops while traveling. This was our first ever stop at a Walmart. Not romantic but so useful. A quiet peaceful night on the streets in Mexico.