Last of Mexico

Leaving Oaxaca the drive to San Cristobal de las Casas included a few changes of scenery. The roads were excellent and we were able to skillfully avoid the last remaining bloqueos that the citizens of Oaxaca had set up as we left the state.  Leona's navigating and her instincts for trouble were becoming well tuned after a baptism of fire,

It seemed like the countryside was getting drier as we found ourselves looking at hillsides of large cacti resembling Cordon. The local variety at the right had even more arms but was much shorter and probably not as long lived.

While we had entered the mescal country before Oaxaca, it was becoming abundantly clear that these people were serious about tequila: the hills were now covered in plantations of blue agave.  For about an hour and we were constantly in view of scenes like that below.

We travelled along excellent highways, often down the spine of mountain ranges before plunging into deep valleys.  Bridges that spanned gorges hundreds of feet deep allowed us to cover miles quickly.  The same route would have taken weeks before these modern  highways had been built.

At times it was hard to ignore the rugged majesty of the southern Mexican highlands...

 and keep all attention on the utter madness being played out on the highway. It was common to see cars speeding past three semis at once, up a hill, on a blind corner. Common!

Mexican drivers are hands down the most impatient and totally reckless drivers I have ever witnessed.  They have no apparent concept of the power limitations of their vehicles and a wanton disregard of the consequences of their actions.

Sadly we witnessed a couple of those consequences passing by shortly after the occurrence of highway fatalities.

While traffic slowed for a few miles as drivers contemplated what they had witnessed at the side of the road, within 5 minutes most of them were once again pushing beyond reasonable limits and placing their lives in the hands of fate.

Leona had been claiming that I was going native behind the wheel but I can assure you I will never go native.... in that way.

Before reaching San Cristobal the toll road descended into a valley which traversed a wind corridor paralleling the Pacific coastline.  Now the only trees for many miles was a forest of wind turbines.  Mexico is only slowly opening its energy sector to foreign participation and historically their oil and gas industry had suffered from chronic under performance, primarily due to a lack of capital and an unwillingness to take on foreign partners.

It was encouraging to see that they had taken the step to incorporate renewables into their electricity generation mix to such an apparently successful degree,  This site rivalled anything we had seen driving down the desert southwest of the US.

Brad and the trusty little Nissan, both gasping for breath at high altitude

Soon we could see more mountains in the distance that we knew we must be starting the climb to  San Cristobal de las Casas, perched at a lofty 7,000 feet.

As we passed a very smoggy Tuxtla Guttierez we knew it was only about an hour to San Cristobal.  Amazingly we would be pushing uphill the entire way, As we climbed higher and higher the temperature dropped and by the time we arrived and got out of the vehicle, it was sweater weather in mid-afternoon. 

We had booked the The Hotel San Luis, a small family-run hotel on the ancient main street of San Cristobal, The city had been founded in the 1500s and all of the streets in the centre were ancient cobblestone and barely a lane wide.  One-ways are OK in the city core, but really guys, could we put up a few signs to tell us which way to go.  Too simple I guess.  I was beginning to understand that what Mexican drivers really cherish is a challenge.

It became apparent that the direction of the street was dictated by the number of cars that wanted to go in a particular direction at any given time. When traffic is light it is a free-for-all.  When traffic is heavy it is a free-for-all.

Back to the hotel, they had a lovely Christmas tree, one of the first we had seen, and a nativity scene set up in the lobby.  It was totally charming and homey.

Most hotels in the older part of a Latin American city are set up like the San Luis.  In most cases they have not been hotels forever: when a grand old family was unable to keep up a large home it was often sold off to a hotelier or refurbished by the family to serve as a hotel.

Typically there is a narrow opening onto the street with a reception or lounge area.  A courtyard near the front which had served as a garden and now was commonly a restaurant.  The rooms and pool often circle the courtyard to the back of the property.  They are comfortable and secure configurations that make staying at a hotel a warm and personal experience, more like visiting a large family than checking into a hotel.

These are night and day pictures of the Christmas scene in front of the garden area of the hotel. Inside on the walls were many family pictures dating back a few generations.

The family were very friendly and the wife spoke excellent English. The room was simple but clean. The only issue we had during our stay was there was no heat in the room. But, you might say, this is Mexico, who needs heat?

Well, the temperature dropped to 8 C when we were there and often goes below freezing in the winter!  Leona spent the evenings with several layers of clothes on under the blankets. Apparently the Mediterranean blood of these French girls thins very quickly.  To the right is a fun picture of Leona wearing all of the clothes she brought with her to Mexico, preparing for bed.  

The city of San Cristobal was founded in 1528 by Diego de Mazariegos (which is the name of the main street our hotel was on). Try saying that ten times fast.

There were many indigenous people selling their woven clothes and blankets. This young woman had her son along with her. He was not too excited about us taking his picture but she was agreeable. They were appropriately dressed for the climate!

The Cathedral below is a beautifully restored building off the central square or zocalo. As in most Mexican cities the zocalo is the block at the centre of the city where a public park is surrounded by the cities most prominent cathedral on one side, the City Hall on another side, the Governor or Mayor's Palace on another side and either a grand hotel or governmental offices to round out the block.  It usually forms the commercial and the civic centre of the city with restaurants and, in recent years, massive concentrations of gringos. A local favourite was handmade hot chocolate, which I had to indulge in.


Mexicans are very devout Catholics and their observations of Christmas are very traditional.  Never the less American culture has had its impact and we were happy to see familiar scenes of snowmen, Christmas trees, and Santas on prominent display,

This was a Christmas scene you might see in Calgary, strangely out of place in the tropics.  Considering the temperature in San Cristobal however, maybe not.

If it weren't for the cooler climate I would have found it hard to leave San Cristobal de las Casas. Mediterranean blood however thins quickly and thickens slowly. We were compelled onward, beyond the borders of Ol' Mexico and to the warmer climes south.

Hasta proxima: B&L