It rained most of the day, so I missed my morning walk and afternoon meal. When the sky
finally cleared, night was upon me. I taped a pocket flashlight to the bottom of my cane
and headed for the local Jardin; the town plaza and kiosk.
Evenings are when plazas morph to markets. Vendors show up with food carts. Artists
and craftspeople lay out weavings and small sculptures on blankets, and colorful
umbrellas open up like night-blooming flowers.
Families show up to enjoy tacos, hot corn, and ice cream. A woman named Faustina was selling tamales. She made them at her home in the afternoon, and they were kept wrapped and warm in an insulated picnic chest. My choices were red pork, beef, or cheese. So – one of each!
I was enjoying a chilled agua de jamaica when I was spotted by another gringo. This
person was eager to engage in conversation and presented me with a question I’m
frequently asked. “What is the fastest route to drive from the U.S. border to Manzanillo.”
I confirmed what he already knew; get on the toll roads and go for it. My question to him
was, why would you want to do this. What’s your hurry?
The advantage of staying off the toll highways is that the old roads and highways will
take you through every little town and hamlet on your route. For some people, this may
sound like a huge inconvenience, but to me, it is one of the best ways to experience
Mexico. In a modern car or SUV, this would be a waste of time. In such a vehicle with its
climate control, cruise control, power steering, traction control, and sound surround, you
sit completely isolated from the world around you.
Ideally, you want to make a trip like this in an open car or motorcycle, but a modern car,
with all the windows rolled down, will work just fine.
Travelling like this, you will feel the shifting winds and changing temperatures as you go
from a high open field into a shaded valley. You’ll hear the wavering hum of the tires on
the road, as worn tarmac becomes fresh asphalt or gravel.
A driver encapsulated in a hermetically sealed SUV knows nothing of any of this. They will not experience the sweet aroma of freshly manured fields or smell the salt air blowing off the coast. They will not experience the smells in towns from outdoor barbecues, fishmongers, and hot corn vendors. They will watch their trip go by them through the windshield of their car and never know the wonderful visceral life of Mexico.
Sadly, none of this was what this gentleman wanted to hear, and it was the end of our
conversation. It was a reminder to me that not all of us are looking for the same things in
life.
I have spent many years traveling the world, lost in the highlands of Cambodia,
savoring the existential now in coffee shops on the coast of Croatia, or bartering with
Russians for diesel fuel on the coast of Eritrea. But in all my years of wandering the world, I have come to the conclusion that Mexico is where a person is most likely to find
passion and magic. Just not on the toll roads.
And it was time for me to say goodbye to Faustina, the tamale lady, and head back to my
office. Evening trips to the Jardin will be a regular event for me.
