Driving in Mexico: Pluses

Why did we enjoy our road trip in Mexico? First there’s the joy of beautiful and surprising sights, for example mile after mile of trees laden with oranges along the Gulf, thundering waterfalls and pine-forested mountains of Chiapas, a breathtaking flock of flamingos in the Yucatan, and the eighth most visited aquarium in the world in Veracruz. (See our February 4, 2011 posting)

Second, delicious and inexpensive regional specialties made from fresh ingredients, like the artistic mango-on-a-stick pictured in our February 10, 2011 posting. One noon we pulled into an open-air restaurant far from any town, right on the Gulf of Mexico. Within minutes, we were enjoying fresh red snapper, savory beans and rice, a stack of hot tortillas, several piquant sauces, and a cold beer, all for under $10.

Third, friendly, helpful people. Everyone was helpful and patient with my Spanish as I bought a cell phone, had my teeth cleaned, applied for a senior citizen card, and took violin lessons. Having a car meant Becky and I got to meet skillful, creative mechanics who went out of their way to solve the water leaks that plagued our rusty old Buick. My new friend on Isla Mujeres, Adolfo, welded patches over the rust holes and then escorted me to the hard-to-find local lavacar, where we had a satisfying discussion of 12-step recovery, parenting, and homosexuality while the car was being washed.

Fourth, a sense of competence in dealing with conditions that don’t exist at home. Being in a foreign country, much less driving long distances in one, stretches a person. It is fun and satisfying to accomplish something that seems difficult and scary.

Fifth, day after day of compatible togetherness. Becky and I love road trips, and this one was especially sweet…probably because it was so adventurous. We worked well as a team. When one person was tired, the other seemed alert. We found ourselves talking through situations effectively, such as locating lodging or trying to figure out the procedure at the border. We loved listening to music and to books on tape. We read a novel out loud to each other—Water for Elephants. The long drives went by amazingly quickly.

People often asked us if we weren’t afraid of all the violence. We didn’t have any trouble and never felt in danger. The main threat we saw up close is to the economy of Isla Mujeres. Restaurants and hotel, including our Nautibeach Condos, were half empty because of people’s fears of Mexico. But Mexico is a huge country, and the Yucatan has a murder rate roughly equal to that of France.*

I’m grateful for the whole experience. Even so, next winter Becky and I will take a direct flight to Cancun. We’ll be breathing in that tropical air and gazing at the turquoise Caribbean waters about 3 hours after leaving Minneapolis!

*Minneapolis Star Tribune, Nov. 30, 2010, D8.

Driving in Mexico: Challenges

Although we didn’t have any serious problems driving 7,200 miles from Minneapolis to Cancun and back, Becky and I did encounter a few challenges.

The most consistent problem was the inconsistent quality of the roads. After hours of single-lane pot-holed roads, we might find ourselves on a modern 4-lane divided highway cruising along at 100 kilometers per hour. Finally, we’d smile, we’re making good time. And look– we’re only 1100 kilometers from Cancun!

Within twenty minutes, however, we’d usually run into one or more challenges:

1. Lane reduction. The divided highway suddenly narrows to a 2-lane blacktop road with no shoulder but deep, craggy potholes.

2. A village. We brake for ten to twenty topes. We creep over the high speed bumps, holding our breath as the muffler and exhaust pipe scrape against the cement.

3. Road construction. A guy in jeans and t-shirt vigorously waves a little flag. Cars, trucks, and buses creep through the next mile or so of dirt and rocks.

4. A military checkpoint. We wait in line for a few minutes or maybe an hour. Armed soldiers in combat fatigues approach the car. They examine our drivers’ licenses and passports, ask where we’ve been and where we’re going, and sometimes look through our trunk. Although these soldiers are unfailingly courteous, the barricades, machine guns, uniforms, and semi-automatic rifles are intimidating. We’re relieved when they let us proceed.

5. A local cop. In one village, the policeman who pulled us over said we were speeding, a serious infraction. In a larger town, the officer second said we had run a red light, a very serious infraction. The fine for each of these was well over $200. If we didn’t have time to go to the police station, he would allow us to pay on the spot. After negotiating a lower amount, we paid on the spot.

Eventually, we got used to challenges 1-4. Armed with tips from a friend who has often driven in Mexico, we even managed to avoid being pulled over again. But we never adapted to the inadequate signage. One morning, for example, the modern 4-lane highway we were cruising on forked without warning. Both branches looked like main arteries. The sign over the left road said 180D. The sign over the right road also said 180D. Quick! Choose! I went right. Within a mile, the highway petered out and we came to a tiny pueblo. More topes! Guess we should have gone left.

Even more challenging was entering a town with no signs pointing a route through the crowded, narrow streets to the highway on the other side. If it weren’t for our GPS, I wonder how we would have gotten through several large cities. But sometimes the GPS was wrong, and then we navigated by instinct, luck, and the kindness of the locals.

So would we drive to Cancun again? Absolutely!

What, are you two crazy?

That answer must wait for another day.

Nancy