From the city of angels to the land of fire. Danny Beer, gringo on tour

Towards Tecapan.: The wrong way
Wednesday August 29, 2007, 110 km (68 miles) – Total so far: 2,622 km (1,629 miles)

It is nice here in Melaque and not as touristy as it’s supposed to be. Well, like San Blas the hotels are here. It just aint tourist season though. A day on the beach sounds nice but not if it’s going to rain all day. So you head off. The rain’s not bad. You feel good about life.

For the third day in a row you wear your coat. Traffic is heavier today but wide shoulders more than compensate. Soon the road follows along the coast and you ride up on the esplanade towards Manzanillo. The road turns abruptly inland and uphill. Signs indicate also. Ahead there is remnants of a road. But you can see many buildings and cars driving about. So you continue along the seaside and it does hook up with the Manzanillo road.

You chat to some surfers you saw earlier. And again when you see them further ahead. Before Manzanillo is the new town where it all happens. They also have a Burger King so you stop inside for an early dinner to get your fix of foreign food. You continue on to the old town where it looks much more Mexican and much less touristy than its northern counterpart.

You continue on. Perhaps now is the time to call it a day. You head out and when the time comes to choose between the toll road and the highway you choose the highway. Well, traffic is light and you should find a town up ahead with a hotel and a bed. A sign indicates a hotel on a beach another ten km further. Surely that must be on the highway.

You choose wrong. Another road connects onto the highway and traffic increases. There are no shoulders and trucks heave along. One truck forces you off the road. All the day’s happiness disappears in a flash. An insect flies into your eye. Two more follow suit. It gets dark. There is no hotel. You chose the wrong road.

By the time you adjust the lights it is only about twenty km to Tecapan, the next town on your map. But with only thirteen km to go you pass through a small nondescript town. It has a hotel. You get a room. It is overpriced for what it is but it has a bed and beats heading on. For what was planned to be an easy day you sure knocked up the kilometers.

St Juan de Lima.: The wake up call from hell
Thursday August 30, 2007, 67 km (42 miles) – Total so far: 2,689 km (1,671 miles)

You awake to the sounds of loud awful music next door and even louder banging from outside. Two trucks are outside. Evidently there owners have decided that two meters from your front door is best for fixing their tires. And of course the music needs to be loud to hear it above the noise of all the banging. This is the least value for money hotel you’ve stayed in so far. Yes, it is even worse than the one with the eight cockroaches.

In town another hotel exists. Too late now. The road continues as it did yesterday, ie narrow and full of asshole truck drivers, for just a few more kilometers. Where yesterday the scenery around the lake was nice you now ride through an evidently poorer barrio. You join up onto the freeway and enjoy a nice wide shoulder. A few more opportunities of accommodation present themselves. Too late now.

Except for Tecoman you enjoy forty km of nice wide shoulder. The traffic is heavy but it feels good to be riding. The road narrows but that’s okay because it also coincides with a reduction in traffic. In particular a reduction in trucks.

You spot a large hairy tarantula crossing the road. You ride on to St Juan de Lima, a nice little beach resort area. There isn’t anyone here. It’s off season. You find a cheap hotel and relax for the rest of the day. You’re out of pesos and there aren’t any ATMs about. No breakfast for you tomorrow.

Along the Pacific.: A great little camp spot and restaurant
Friday August 31, 2007, 113 km (70 miles) – Total so far: 2,802 km (1,741 miles)

You skip breakfast. You are out of pesos and the next bank machine is sixty km away at Maurita. Land around here doesn’t like to stay flat. There are always hills to climb. But with the ascents come the descents and they are always fun. Two towns lie before Maurita. Both have accommodation but neither have a bank machine. You find the town. It’s small. Just a beach community really. No paved roads and certainly no bank machine.

You do have some US dollars though. You exchange five dollars and buy some lunch. And away you go.

For more than forty km there is nothing but tarmac. The scenery is quite nice. The road winds around and around, skirting the Pacific. At around six o’clock you do a quick calculation. Two hours of sunlight left. And at least forty km until the next known town, Campos, with a bank machine no doubt. You’re almost out of water. You’ve only eaten two hotcakes all day. The road has many ascents and is bound to have more. Time to push on.

There is a small village with about three shops. Soon after a sign points to an RV and camp ground. They have a restaurant too. One problem. No pesos. Americano dollars. Not important. Bueno. It is nice here. Very quiet. Cheap. And friendly. You relax with a few beers. It rains. It gets dark. Your hostess warns of a storm approaching. A typhoon or hurricane or something of the sort. No use worrying about that now. The tent is already pitched. It’s under cover. You’ll be fine.

Playa Azul.: Out of cash
Saturday September 1, 2007, 115 km (71 miles) – Total so far: 2,917 km (1,813 miles)

It rains all night and all day today. There is a storm with lightning and all that but no hurricane. Apparently it is crossing through at Playa Azule, 100 km to the south and today’s destination.

A couple small villages cross your pass at nine km intervals and then nothing for thirty five km where you reach Campos. Lucky you stayed where you did last night. There aren’t any bank machines in Campos. You exchange some more Americanos and get some lunch.

It continues to rain. It lets up a little around lunch but returns with a vengeance. It’s not so bad though. The road is half covered in land slides twice further on. With only a couple km to go the road is flooded entirely. You put the bike in a low gear and go forward. You can see where big pot holes are under the water. Some of them. The water gets a little deeper and you need to rely on the ripples to spot the pot holes. Near the end the water is well deep. You peddle harder. Your feet get wet.

The kilometer markers end but you haven’t quite made it there. The road turns off and Playa Azul is another five km down the road. There isn’t so much here. And guess what. no bank machine. You find a hotel for about ten dollars which will also take your Americanos. It’s not much but it is better than the five dollar cabana otherwise available. Apparently there’s a bank machine at the next town. It’s not far, ten km or so, but haven’t you heard this one somewhere before?

Zehuenjeno.: A freeway all to yourself
Sunday September 2, 2007, 130 km (81 miles) – Total so far: 3,047 km (1,893 miles)

It rains. You finally find an ATM, after only four days of searching. You stop for lunch and to wait out the worst of the rain. It lets up to the point where you can now remove your coat. There is a new toll freeway in place for fifteen km but it’s closed for use. The busy highway passes over at one point and you find your entrance on. There is no traffic at all. Just you and the tarmac and nice ocean views.

But the freeway ends as far as you’re concerned and you are forced onto the highway with all the not so nice traffic. But not everyone’s an asshole. You sure do meet a lot of them though.

After about a hundred km a sign points off to a hotel. It looks nice. Too nice. And not worth the six km detour to find out. You press on. Closer to your destination more hotels and motels present themselves. The price looks right until you see that it’s only for two or three hours. You keep going.

Your feet hurt. The day wears on. Eventually you get into town. Only a couple more km now so you ignore the hotels on the outskirts. You’ll stay for a couple of nights so what’s the use of staying on the outskirts of town. To pack up and move three km further on? Bear the pain now.

It is dark by the time you find the main drag and a hotel that looks good. Ten dollars isn’t bad. But a look at the bike and the price hikes up to fifteen. Luckily the ol’ bat’s daughter, you think, lets you go with ten. It sure aint the Hilton though.

This looks like a pretty happening resort. Lots of people about and even a few foreigners too. It might be worth staying up for a cerveza or three. Tomorrow needs to be a rest day anyway.

Tecman.: Too many bus drivers make Danny go a little crazy
Tuesday September 4, 2007, 141 km (88 miles) – Total so far: 3,188 km (1,981 miles)

Yesterday is a day of rest, spent, well, resting in the resort town of Zehuenjeno. Or whatever it is called. You meet people and you enjoy yourself. This is a nice place. Better, and smaller than the other resort towns you’ve been through. Iztapa to the north draws the richer crowds.

It’s two long days to Aculpulco. You aim to ride about 120 km today. That’s half way. Traffic continues as before. It’s a little busy and once you are out of town roads cease to have shoulders. Bus drivers continue to endeavor to be the biggest assholes they can be. Ten overtake way too close for comfort in the first hour alone.

About an hour out of town, just before a bridge and on the right, is a nice looking restaurant with pool. Silly you for not turning back. But then you would be there all day. You pull in to a restaurant further up. It takes you a little while to realise that this is a school cafeteria. You keep looking.

Accomodation is plentiful except for where you want it. Tecman is only another twenty km further. Can you make it? There are a couple hotels just before Tecman but you press on. If you’ve made it this far you may as well do the five km more. Tecman only has one hotel in town but there are two more just on the other side as well. Ten US is cheap but of course you get what you pay for. Or you don’t get what you don’t pay for. No aircon, no TV, no toilet seat.

Acalpulco.: Riding without gears
Wednesday September 5, 2007, 104 km (65 miles) – Total so far: 3,292 km (2,046 miles)

Vowing not to go back to the overcharging restaurant you ate at last night you find a nice little place and have tortas. You break your rear gears leaving you with just the front ones to play with all day. This means having to walk up whatever hills lie ahead.

After an hour, 80 km before Aculpulco there is a restaurant with swimming pool. It looks very nice but you keep going. Lunch can wait a little later.

With just twenty km to go a toll freeway presents itself. You stay on the highway where traffic does increase tremendously. You make it to Acalpulco and meet Sofia, a Chilena girl you arranged to travel down the coast with. And now it is time to get acquainted.

San Marcos.: Local parts on a nice expensive bike
Thursday September 6, 2007, 84 km (52 miles) – Total so far: 3,376 km (2,098 miles)

A guy from the hotel goes with you to find a bike shop and help not to get overcharged. It’s a long way until you find one. He does some interpreting and you go to eat breakfast. You go to pick up the bike but there’s a problem. The gear system is too complicated and will cost 150 US to replace. Or for 5 US you can have a new brake installed on the side of the handlebars. It all sounds well dodgy but it is a bit of price difference involved.

Best not to hang around watching so you go to find a second breakfast. It is now afternoon. Sofia left much earlier to beat the midday heat. You’ll catch up with her sixty km down the road. Hopefully.

It’s another twenty km or so to get out of town. Traffic is heavy. There is a big hill to climb. You get a flat tire, and another out of town. Your new gear system looks well dodgy but it works fine. The hills aren’t so big around here. Lots of pigs running about the place. You stop to let a sow and her two piglets cross the road.

You make it to San Marcos and find Sofia in the first hotel there. It’s quite cheap and even has a pool which you take full advantage of. There doesn’t seem to be much in town. A pizza restaurant looks like your best option for dinner.

Mequense.: To beach or not to beach
Friday September 7, 2007, 83 km (52 miles) – Total so far: 3,459 km (2,149 miles)

It seems that there is a sizable town every forty km with a smaller town about half way between. After the first twenty km you stop and chat to some high school kids who call out. Lunch in Cruz Grande where for the only time today traffic is dense. And on to Mequense. You head off to the Playa to find Sofia but see her on the way back. It’s dirty she says so you find a motel in town, which is probably dirtier, and stay there instead.

This looks like an alright town. Enough options for food and supplies. Lots of hotels which make you wonder why you’re staying in probably the worst one you could find.

Puenta Nacional.: Festival in Oaxaca
Saturday September 8, 2007, 118 km (73 miles) – Total so far: 3,577 km (2,223 miles)

It’s 120 km to Puenta Nacional. There are many kids about shouting “Gringo’ at you. You don’t reply. You pass Sofia at around one o’clock and arrange to meet for lunch in the next town. But she never comes. You make it into town by dusk and seek out a hotel. One is cheap but it doesn’t have a toilet seat. Oh, by the way, you really do need a toilet seat today.

You find a place which does tortas. A retired English/American couple come by and you make conversation. Their truck broke down and are trying to sort all that out. You go for a walk and find a big fiesta for indepencia day. Naturally you join in and are given food and beer. There is also a party not far from your hotel.

As you’re away Sofia comes by looking for you. She is staying at the hotel you passed up on. If only you were here you both could be staying at the nicer hotel a hell of a lot cheaper.

Towards Puerto Escondido.: Riding on.
Monday September 10, 2007, 131 km (81 miles) – Total so far: 3,708 km (2,304 miles)

Yesterday was a much needed rest day. You certainly weren’t in any position to continue. Sofia continues on, probably. The day is spent watching TV, drinking lots of water and failing at trying to get the girl at the pharmacy to give you some drugs to combat this illness.

You leave this Penotipa Nacional and continue on towards Puerto Escondido. You make it to the Rio Grande before deciding to call it a day. You ask at the hotel but their 12 hour policy means you’ll be leaving by six AM. Fuck that.

With just twenty km to go a sign points the way to a campsite and restaurant. Sounds like one of those ideal places so you venture there. Two or three km down a crappy dirt road you finally turn back when the road becomes mud. It probably isn’t much further but it is possible to be closed. You make it back to the main road in the last of the daylight.

Another few km later you find a hotel. An expensive hotel. It’s not going to happen. But you can camp at the restaurant next door for fifty pesos. Sadly you are too late for dinner though.

The question which now remains.. tent or hammock. The hammock is tempting but shall you risk the mosquitos?

San Gabriel Mixtepec.: Over the mountains
Wednesday September 12, 2007, 67 km (42 miles) – Total so far: 3,775 km (2,346 miles)

You awake with hands and arms covered in red spots. Bites? But from what? You look diseased. Breakfast consists of coffee and a bun. You will have to wait until you get to town before getting any real food.

19 km later you roll into town and find Sofia booked into the hostel opposite Zapotepa beach just south of town. This really is the best area to stay. Lots of foreigners about too. It gets hot in the day but the evening is a cold wet thunderstorm. You sit with Sofia on the beach watching the lighting until one particularly close strike temporarily blinds you both and you decide to head back to the hostel.

But all that was yesterday. This is today.

Yesterday you awoke with your arms covered in little red spots. Today the rest of you is now covered. You were bitten to all fuck last night. Your hands and feet are the worst. Don’t stay in the dorm room of the hostel in this town. You have been warned.

It really is difficult to decide how to get to Oaxaca city. After speaking to the very nice and funny lady at the tourist information office yesterday you have a lot of information but are still indecisive. In the end you decide on the sissy route, the 131 directly north to Oaxaca from Puerto Escondido. Sofia will stay another day here, then tomorrow ride to Puerto Angel and take a but from there north on the 175. The 175 has the best scenery. It also has a 3000 metre climb. You’ve done it before and you will need to do it again before this trip is over. But for now the sissy route looks like a nicer easier ride.

You don’t leave until after one and there is a lot of climbing today. It rains hard. You find shelter in a, um, shelter. The rain eases up and you continue on your way. Not far to San Gabriel Mixtepec now where apparently a hotel exists. It rains hard before you can make it there though. You get into town and find a couple nice restaurants on the north side of town to wait out the rest of the rain. It is still early but maybe not early enough to make it to the next town an hour’s drive away. How many kilometers is it? Many kilometers.

There is a hotel in town. But it doesn’t exist. The building exists. The sign exists. But when you go to ask apparently it doesn’t. There is some kind of unofficial hotel almost opposite the non-existing hotel so you stay there for cheap enough. It’s not much but at least they have hot water in the shower.

To the summit.: Just before San Pedro
Thursday September 13, 2007, 101 km (63 miles) – Total so far: 3,876 km (2,408 miles)

You set the alarm for a quarter to seven and although it does wake you you decide to remain semi conscious in the nice warm bed. Tortas make a nice breakfast. You enjoy some very nice local coffee too.

It is 19 km to the next town, Santa Rosa. There’s not much there but you could probably pitch a tent there or at the restaurants a few km before and after town. The road keeps heading up until you reach the summit 37 km later. It rains hard and there is nowhere to hide. You continue on until a few km after the summit you come to El Vidrio. There’s not much there but you find a restaurant to shelter out some of this rain. Apparently there is a hotel in town but you’ll be damned if you saw it.

The views up would be nice if they weren’t clouded by, um, clouds. The rain doesn’t seem to ease up at all here so you press on. Not far down the mountain the rain stops and you cruise in luxury. You hit a stone and your front tire immediately goes flat. The tube is fucked. The tire is fucked. The rim is fucked. Luckily you picked up a spare tire yesterday and of course you now have a few spare tubes. The rim is fine as long as you don’t mind a clunk, clunk, clunk, every time you use the front brake. Looks like you have a few things to replace in Oaxaca.

Thirty km down in the valley is San Pedro. It is a descent enough sized town with a hotel. But it’s not on your map. From there it is a grueling 34 km up hill to almost the summit. It gets dark. It gets very dark. Energy levels drop and you start walking. Well you still are going two thirds of your pedaling speed. Besides, after riding in wet cycling shorts all day your inner thighs are red raw.

You find a restaurant. It is open but no one’s about. Barking dogs soon wake the owners though and dinner is served. They even let you sleep inside for the night. Dinner costs thirty pesos with a free hammock. They don’t have any change and you only just have enough so give the rest over anyway. It’s not much of a tip but they are grateful and it makes you feel like less of a sponge.

Oaxaca: Danny: TV personality
Friday September 14, 2007, 121 km (75 miles) – Total so far: 3,997 km (2,484 miles)

The hammock is small. Too small. It is cold up on that mountain too. You don’t sleep much. It’s another two km uphill and then seventeen all the way downhill to Vega. The road is mostly fine but best not attempted at night as potholes and such do exist. Yesterday’s troubles mean that it is difficult to use the front break. A dog suddenly jumps out and attacks on a rough section of road. Not fun.

Vega is a descent enough sized town with TWO hotels. After that it’s another dozen km uphill. You have no energy. You even attempt hitchhiking. But fret not as this is the last real long section of uphill. Then back downhill again. Then up and down again. There is another large looking town but it’s not on the road so you skip it. There are a few more towns now with places to eat but you don’t see any more hotels until after 85 km coming into a large town not far before the 131 joins up with the 175. You try to find food but it proves too difficult. Really.

Traffic increases a lot now. For the last two days it was virtually nil. Now it is plentiful. Buses overtake very closely and blow their horns when they have the world to maneuver around. Something hits you. Someone threw bread at you from a bus. On the 175 the road is wide with wide shoulders. But the shoulders are crap and often used for parking making them more of a hazard than anything else. Cars expect you to use them even though they are crap and get aggressive when you don’t.

It rains. A bus is at least two meters away but drives through a puddle splashing water all over you. Probably calculated. You get into town and find a hotel. Sofia will get here tomorrow so you tell her to meet you at nine tomorrow. You hang out and drink beer. They are doing promotions for Victoria beer and you are filmed saying “La Victoria se mia.” Or something like that. They give you a bracelet which doesn’t fit.