Pigging Out

Hidalgo – Ciudad Victoria, Tamaulipas, Mexico

It turns out that if you have a choice, it is much better to have a road paved with citrus fruit than with garbage, rocks and mud. 

Better start with last night’s dinner – because it had some effect on our day today. We thought it would be a good idea to eat at the central square in Hidalgo rather than at a stand along the road. Probably not such a good choice. (Another lesson learned – if you have a choice of where to eat make sure to eat where there is lots of traffic . . .)

We went to a place featuring barbecue chicken. We were thinking we were going to get a dinner similar to our recent lunch (I think Asada is the key word?): fresh chicken, some sausage, fries, rice and salad. With some amazing grilled tortillas.

Not so much. 

Luke warm chicken. And . . . And, well, a big pile of plain unheated tortillas. Not inspiring. 

Well, what are you going to do? You win some. You lose some. 

So we ate our chicken and went on with our evening. 

But this morning . . . Not a total disaster. An extra trip to the bathroom before we left for me. Crampy feeling all day for Diana. 

Who knows what the culprit was – but we are pretty suspicious of that place. 

They were closing when we left the restaurant. The big heated display thing where they kept the chicken? They just turned it off and closed it up for the night — with the chicken still sitting there – apparently ready to go for the next day. No refrigeration that we observed . . . Hmm. Not what you want to see . . .

It’s kind of like the Seinfeld episode where the guy spinning pizza dough comes out of the bathroom stall and doesn’t wash his hands. You don’t really want to eat there after seeing that. But, unfortunately for us, we already had. 

Things picked up from there . . .

Nice road today. Pretty quiet. The clouds actually parted for a few choice pictures of the mountains that are still with us. 

And oranges. Did I mention the oranges? They were literally falling off of the big trucks that were loaded with them. Apparently today is THE day for harvesting oranges. And the little town that we were passing through – Plande Ayal – must be the citrus capital of the world or something. 

https://youtube.com/shorts/0CnXjZ73A2U?feature=shared

Groves and groves of citrus trees. A whole bunch of sorting operations along the way. The trucks come in – pickups, semis, farm vehicles, whatever – dump their loads, and then there are a bunch of people sorting the fruit onto conveyor belt things – and the chosen fruit makes its way into what looks like the real deal truck heading to market . . .

But it was kind of confusing. The oranges weren’t orange at all. They were green. I don’t know if they ripen in-transit to the American market, or if they paint them orange before they arrive in Byerly’s, or if maybe Florida oranges just have a different, more neon, color. 

I actually thought they were limes at first. Big limes. But then we grabbed a few that had fallen off of a truck and I thought it would be a good idea to squeeze a little into my water to give it a little flavor. Didn’t hurt, but I soon realized that these “limes” were sweet and actually tasted good. I ended up eating three off of the ground before I knew it . . . Yummy.

There were like a million stands where you could buy bags of about 20 oranges. I’m not quite sure what these people thought was going to happen today. I mean this road has some traffic – but not that much. If each of the vendors sold ten bags of oranges by the end of the day I’d be impressed . . .

Anyway, I asked one of the first vendors we saw if I could purchase just two oranges – dos naranjas. Answer: NO. Not even a smile. 

But we eventually found a young vendor – he turned out to be thirteen (Diana asked – no school today) – who had, in addition to his bags – a bunch of loose oranges in the bed of a pickup. He was more than happy to give us a few. He even cut them open for us. I think I ate four more. And then he gave us the best grapefruit I’ve ever had. Had to eat that – can’t pass up the best grapefruit ever . . . So now I’m on, I think, eight servings of citrus . . .

He was also selling fresh squeezed orange juice – which, when actually fresh squeezed, is probably the best liquid known to human-kind. My Dad taught me that. He’ll go the store, buy 20 oranges, squeeze them all, and enjoy like two glasses of orange juice. (I guess he would be a prime candidate to buy the bags they were selling along the road.)

So I was going to get some juice (jugo), but, sadly, Dr. Liu informed me that fresh squeezed juices are a particularly bad idea in places like Mexico. And after this morning’s experience I had to admit the wisdom of her advice. 

But I guess I didn’t need more citrus of any kind at this point. I mean the outside wasn’t orange, but still, if I ate any more I think I would be running the risk of starting to look like The Donald. 

We bought a few for the road and headed out.

Next stop . . . Some ten miles down the line . . . Actual lunch – or, I guess, second breakfast . . .

Huevos papas (eggs with potatoes) . . . Made by chefs Cynthia and Hilaria (Hilary in English). Excellent. 

Now we are on a roll. We just need something more substantial – more meaty – to complete the day. 

What do we see as we ride along? Three guys crowded around a table – preparing a 400 pound hog for roasting. When we arrive they are pouring hot water over the big porker to soften up the bristles so that they can scrape them away. 

That is definitely going to be good. 

They invited us to stay for dinner, but, sadly, we had too many kilometers left to cover. Spent too much time eating citrus, I guess . . . 

Next time. 

Victoria Ciudad. 

Big place. We arrived early enough that we were able to go to the natural history museum. Which was cool. But it’s a little difficult to absorb science when it’s in a different language. Hard enough in your native tongue . . . And the place was a little sad. There was clearly a big investment here. Big building. Multi-media exhibits. But there was no one else there. Not a soul besides us. And the exhibits were kind of falling apart. Like examining the set of Star Wars twenty years later and realizing that the planet Luke grew up on is made of paper mache – and it’s now ragged on the edges . . .

After the museum we walked around Tamatan Park for a bit. We found a soccer match featuring some eight or nine year old boys. Okay – so there may not be a lot of money in Mexico, but this football field was perfect. Synthetic turf. Lights. A stadium with nice seating for the parents. This facility was nicer than what you would find at the swankiest suburban school in the States. Good to see. The Mexicans can come up with resources when they really need to . . .

Last thing. While we’re watching the game we’re befriended by Kristian. He coaches a cycling team and he gives us the low-down on the two wheeled scene in the area. Where to go. What to avoid. 

Did I mention that the people here are so nice?