Just before walking to the main square in the city of Tlaxcala, capital of the eponymous state, I told Ferda about how Mexicans make jokes about the tiny state of Tlaxcala not really existing except perhaps in fairy tales. How appropriate then some thirty minutes later to see for the first time the state tourism board’s motto: Tlaxcala, ¡sí existe! (Tlaxcala, yes, it exists!)
The tradition that I have always associated with Tlaxcala is pulque,
Continue readingBefore a railroad was built across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Tlacotalpan, originally settled on an island in the Papaloapan River, was a thriving inland river port. Its importance declined, but the city managed to preserve its colonial layout well enough that it was added to UNESCO’s World Heritage List in 1998.
The city is perhaps famous (?) as the place where Porfirio Díaz hung out doing woodwork for a few years between his failed attempt to overthrow Benito Juárez in 1871 and his successful ousting of Lerdo de Tejada in 1876, the start of his three decade dictatorship.
Asking around at the mercado viejo in San Cristóbal de las Casas, we learned that it was probably possible to string together a series of shared taxis and colectivos to get from San Cristóbal to Tapijulapa. Would it be worth the trouble, we wondered?
The blogging couple at wandertooth made the trip from Villahermosa and clearly said, “no, it’s not worth it,” mostly due to the difficulty of transportation between Villahermosa and Tapijulapa. They also complained about the heat. Well, luckily I ignored them ’cause we certainly enjoyed Tapijulapa. From San Cristóbal you should expect some transportation adventures, but the leg they complained about — Tapijulapa-Villahermosa — was comfortable and easy to figure out.
Our first colectivo took us to Puerto Caté, a four way intersection that Jack and I bicycled through ten years ago. On a Sunday afternoon the frequent transportation coming from Bochil in the direction of Simojovel all arrived stuffed full. Eventually it was our turn to squeeze into an overcrowded minibus. It became a bit more comfortable after some passengers got off in El Bosque.
Ferda and I spent the night in Simojovel which used to be buzzing with Chinese businessmen buying amber. I’m not sure why they stopped coming. The next morning it was still three legs to get to Tapijulapa. Here’s Ferda at our quick breakfast stop in Huitiupán:
It was then a surprisingly long ride to Amatán on a pretty horrible road. I can’t imagine that passenger cars can make it through there in the rainy season. The only other passenger to go the whole way from Huitiupán to Amatán was a nurse who explained that it takes her eight hours to get from her home in Tuxtla Gutiérrez to her work in a village near Amatán. She does the round trip every week.
We probably waited two hours in Amatán for a passenger to fill the shared taxi to Tapijulapa, and then the driver felt inclined to race along excellent curvy pavement for 17km, the fifth and final leg from San Cristóbal de las Casas to Tapijulapa.
Tapijulapa is another of Mexico’s pueblos mágicos, far enough off the beaten path that it might not be so crowded on the weekends. Midweek it was easy to find a place to stay for two nights. It was “hot but not uncomfortable” according to my notes.
Continue readingSeems like every time I go to Chiapas (four times now? five?) I at least pass through San Cristóbal de las Casas. I’m pretty sure this year was my longest stay in the city. It’s been over ten years now (!) since Jack and I finished a bicycle tour in San Cristóbal de las Casas. I guess it was time to get back.
After flights from Tijuana via Mexico City and a taxi from the Tuxtla Gutiérrez airport, Zane was waiting for us at the base of the (Guadalupe) hill near his house.
San Cristóbal de las Casas sits in a valley surrounded by mountains dotted with indigenous villages. It’s a colonial city that despite its (large) size is part of Sectur’s Pueblo Mágico program.
It’s easy to wander around, visit touristy restaurants, take photos, and drink fancy cocktails in hipster bars. Haha! That sentence could apply to many of Mexico’s pueblos mágicos.
Continue readingAs I mentioned in my last post, it rained a lot this year in California. There was chatter about the “superbloom” and not surprisingly a lot of flower tourism. Ferda, my Dad, and I took advantage and visited the Carrizo Plain National Monument for the first time.
Along the way we made a few stops including visiting friends in pretty Santa Cruz.
