Picture potpourri

March 14, 2012

Lots to take in this day.  After our visit to the lost church, we took back roads through mountain villages and experienced a sense of being far removed from the modern world.

 

This outdoor oven in Angahuan looks as if it is still in use.

The cool boys outside the school high-fived me as we drove by.  Just a few kilometers down the road, this church and the women sitting outside could have been from a different century.

 The baskets and metates in the market opposite the church were outnumbered by the  stalls selling running shoes  and pirated  CDs and videos.

Cemeteries are nothing like home.  Monuments and mini-chapels are standard.  The dead are greatly revered and families spare no expense to honour them.  

Patzcuaro

March 2012

This is one of our favourite Mexican towns, a Pueblo Magico.  It has history,culture, a busy market, the lakefront -- and a cosy little RV park right in town.

Happy Hour at Villa Patzcuaro.  There was a congenial mix of campers from the US and Canada.  Most of the Canadian rigs were from Quebec and as usual we overcame our language limitations to make new friends.  Jim had some great political conversations.  One woman had been an NDP candidate long, long before the Orange Crush.

Moving along

Sadly, it's still only the two of us.  We were offered a life companion to take with us and it was hard to say no.  Air Canada helped the decision by declining to allow a pet on our flight.

On our way to Patzcuaro we drove through an area that specializes in brick-making.  You can see both the quarries and the stacks of finished bricks in the yards.

This scene could be Canada in October -- see how the leaves have turned colour and are dropping.

Before reaching Patzcuaro we stopped at the famous craft markets of Quiroga.

This small chapel offered a cool break from the heat.  Note the unusual ceiling artwork.

Guadalajara

Guadalajara, GDL, or 'Guad':  it's the Big Smoke in the region of Mexico known as the Western Central Highlands.  The population is at least 4.5 million, the traffic is ferocious, but it's a great city to visit.

The RV park is just at the edge of the city, so a bus and subway trip took us to the Centro.  We strolled through the enormous market, buying only a pork torta.  Our first sandwich here two years ago opened our eyes and stomachs to this gastronomic delight.

The central area of the city is a long corridor of linked plazas filled with fountains and sculptures, and surrounded by museums, galleries, churches and other historic properties.

Not all sculptures feature famous faces.

Jocotepec Delights

Going to town is not a bit like a trip to Stavanger Drive.  We had a car for a Sunday courtesy of our grand friend Jack, native son of Fortune, Newfoundland, now retired at Roca Azul after a career that took him right across Canada.  Having a set of wheels meant we could cover more ground than usual.  And what did we see?

While sipping cappuccino at the gringo coffee shop on the plaza, we noticed a major event involving hundreds of local citizens lined up to cast ballots.  If my later search of the internet did not lead me astray, this may have been a primary-style vote to choose the presidential candidate for the ruling PAN party.  President Felipe Calderon completes his 6-year term this year.  The party's chosen nominee is a Josefina Vazquez Mota. 

It wasn't market day, when a long street in the heart of town is taken over by vendors, but we still found goods of all sorts on offer. 

Jocotepec has a fabulous malecon on its shoreline.  The walkway and park bordering the lake draw local families and visitors for recreation, boat tours, picnics and just to enjoy the splendid scenery.

We chatted with a man taking advantage of the outdoor gym equipment.  He told us he used to live in the US and played in a rock and roll band and that he LOVED Credence Clearwater Revival.  He broke into song and soon the three of us were singing as we peddled our machines.

Cotton Fields

When I was a little bitty baby My mama would rock me in the cradle, In them old cotton fields back home. It was down in Louisiana, Just about a mile from Texarkana, In them old cotton fields back home. Oh, when them cotton bolls get rotten You can’t pick very much cotton, In them old cotton fields back home.

Down to Lago Chapala

After 10 days at Hacienda Contreras we took a short drive down the mountain and along the south shore of Lake Chapala.  As soon as we reached the lakeshore, the (narrow) road was lined with vendors selling just-picked berries.  We were shocked at the price increase since last year.  Can you imagine -- 20 pesos a litre, about $1.50.  I was somewhat placated by the offer of three litres for 50 pesos, which also meant I did not have to choose between strawberries, raspberries and blackberries.  For the record, the raspberries were tops.  Darn, should have taken a picture, they all looked so good!

Berries are one of the special treats we savour during our winters in Mexico.  The area around Lake Chapala produces vast quantities of berries for export.  Shortly before leaving home I spotted a tiny container of Driscoll's raspberries at Sobey's for about the same prize as the three liters I bought on the roadside.  The label said they were from Mexico, so they probably came from one of Driscoll's greenhouses right around here.

We made a brief stop in tiny San Luis Soyatlan where we always get great vegetables at a little market just at the edge of town.  I had to wait in line behind a group of young working men who apparently were taking a break and all having what seemed to be the special of the day.  It was a concoction of bottled juice, with various fresh fruits blended in and seasoned with chili powder.  Fresh fruit juices and chopped fruits served in plastic tubs or bags are popular snacks readily available in the markets and plazas -- how healthy is that?

I'm fond of this produce stall for its good selection but it's also convenient as the street widens outside the village centre.  Inside the town limit the streets are so narrow we'd be a major obstruction.  Last year we found ourselves behind a funeral procession.  The casket was in a van or SUV (flowers visible on top) and the mourners followed on foot to the church.

We visited the church on another occasion and were surprised at its modern interior. Rather plain pews but a marble floor.