This isn’t Paris

Hueytamalco – Libres, Puebla, Mexico

When Diana and I were in college we went on one of those Eurail backpacking trips through, well, Europe. We did way too much on that trip – I think we did eleven countries in 20 days . . . (Diana hasn’t changed much . . .). On a budget of something like $600.

We flew into Amsterdam on a red-eye. As soon as we hit the ground we hopped a train to Paris. By the time we reached the City of Love it was mid-afternoon on a hot and humid day – and we hadn’t slept in like 36 hours. 

First job: take the Metro to the city. No, I guess the first job was to get the money to take the metro to the city. That was fun. The Parisian Metro guys refused to help at all. 

With a French accent:

”We do not know English. We cannot help!”

Anyway, we finally figured it out. Was expensive for us at the time – like $5 each or something. So we put the coins in and Diana goes through the big turnstile thing. I’m following – except that I’m wearing a big backpack and the turnstile things close with me on one side of the turnstiles and the backpack on the other – the wrong side. 

The French guys? Once again completely unhelpful. 

“We don’t know English. We cannot help you. You will need to go back out, buy a new pass and go through again.”

I’m so tired I’m almost crying at this point. I go back, buy another pass, and we take the Metro into the City. Only it’s too early to go to our hostel or pension or whatever so we go to the park.

I lay down in the grass and close my eyes. Finally a few moments of rest . . .

”Monsieur, you cannot be here!”

I look up and there’s a French constable or whatever busting me for being on the lawn. 

He points to a sign: “No Walking on the Grass!”

Only it’s in French – so it’s meaningless to me.

The point is: I hate societies that have a rule for everything. It’s just not my style. People are generally good. Let them figure it out except for the big stuff . . .

Which brings me back to our current trip. 

Today was a BIG day. Diana’s Strava says we did 7,857’ of climbing. Or about a mile-and-a-half straight up. Worse, we were at elevation most of the day – capping out at 8,400 feet – meaning oxygen was a bit lacking. 

To give you a little flavor: it took us 2+ hours to go the first 25 kilometers (15 miles). And after that much climbing we had to sit down for some lunch – which was amazing again. Love these hole-in-the-wall places with these inspired cooks.

We had to cover 60+ miles to reach our hotel. But at the rate we were going we were afraid we wouldn’t make it by dark. So we decided to use our new trump card: the toll road. More direct – only 55 miles this way – and hopefully a little less elevation . . .

But within 5 miles of starting out, we pass a sign with a bicycle on it – crossed out. The universal language that says bikes are not allowed. 

I confer with Diana, who missed the sign. But just then we pass one of the many seatbelts required signs that you see around here. And a second later a pickup is going by with a bunch of people standing in back. And then we remember that the Mexicans don’t really have rules. Or, well, maybe they have some rules, but they don’t seem to worry about them much.

A few miles later we approach the toll booth. I’m vaguely nervous that the toll guy is going to tell us we can’t be on the road. 

Not even close. We don’t even have to pay. He just tells us to go around onto the grass so that we don’t trigger the counter; he doesn’t want to be short for the day. 

And then a mile later some motorcycle guys merge onto the highway from some rogue trails they’ve made. 

And a mile after that there’s a motorcycle going the wrong way up an exit ramp – with the same idea in mind: avoid the toll. 

Point is, I guess, that this isn’t France. 

And you know what: I love the way Mexico rolls. I mean, there’s some things to work on – like garbage and stuff – but the people are nice, they get stuff done, and they do what needs to be done to get where they need to go. There’s no complaining. There’s no whining. They just make thing happen. 

I may write more on this topic another time – but it’s been a long day and it’s time to wrap up. With another mountain day tomorrow we need our beauty sleep. 

Quick ride recap: Straight up for 15 miles to the town where we had lunch. Straight up for another 10 miles to the top of a pass. Then up and down – mostly up – for the next 10 miles until we reach that 8,400 feet. And then we emerge into some high plains. The remainder of the day is a super fun cruise into town. Once again we roll in just before the late-afternoon rain comes . . .

Tired but amazing beauty along the way.

Puebla tomorrow . . .