I have divided the trip into sections that I have uploaded into this page on my web site. If you find a section that is not finished please come back again and check on the progress. It took me 5 months to edit and prepare the CD slide show and post the pictures to Webshots.com. To access the photo albums go to the first page of the website and click on the Mexican hat. The story begins here with the desire.

  Start of trip

My desire to return to Mexico began after my first two guided tour trips in 2002. I wanted to see more and take my time, but was concerned about being a single woman over 60, traveling alone. That was going to be a huge hurdle to jump over, as I had no clue how I was going to do that. I started my research by defining what I wanted to see, determining how long it was going to take to travel from place to place, where I was going to stay and how I was going to communicate without speaking Spanish.

I bought several tour guidebooks and read them from cover to cover to see how many ancient cites and museums were available open for visitors. I sketched out a rough route going from Reynosa on the border of Texas down the gulf coast of Mexico, across the Yucatan and into Chiapas, down the mountains to Oaxaca and Puebla. Tall order. I figured the mileage and gave each stop a couple of days and came up with 60 days. Give or take a day or two for minor adjustments.

The tour books gave info on the Mexico busses but not the up to the minute schedules. I took my search to the Internet and found the web site for Ticketbus.com. They had 30 days of bus schedule information. Not only could I look at the bus schedule, but also I could make a reservation, choose a seat, and even pay for the ticket on line. I could make connections along the travel path I mapped out and make reservations as far as Merida, in the Yucatan. After that, I would have to wait for the next time they posted info. Not wanting to leave without my plan being completely arranged with a way to travel, I searched some more for another alternative.

While I was doing that I also looked at a zillion web sites on the cities in Mexico. A lot of them have web pages, but few have complete up to date information. I scoured the Internet more and looked at other travelers’ pictures and stories about how they did it. I found a few I thought were interesting. As my main goal was to get to as many of the pyramids and museums that offered exhibits on Meso-American pyramid artifacts, I stuck to those places with that in mind.

I e-mailed many hotels, hostels, travel sites, tourism bureaus, etc, asking for information on bookings, travel connections, and general how-to-travel info. Not many replied.

The one that did reply was travelyucatan .com. Cattle Ken answered and continued to carry on a dialogue with me about my plan as I started to hone it into shape. For two months he answered my questions, gave me insights into off road archaeological sites, how it was done, what transportation I would need to use, how to eat, what to carry with me, what not to bring and even connected me to a Mayan guide that spoke English. Wow. I was finally on my way to making a solid plan. I’ll write more on my guide Manny when I met up with him in Tikul.

The other way I connected was through an article that was written by a man who traveled all over the route that had the ancient sites and mentioned a web site for a jungle lodge resort that was not listed in the tour books. I e-mailed them and found a Canadian couple that had established a business along Hwy 186 from Escargena to Chetumal. Diane and Rick from Rio Bec Dreams were my second connection to making my plan come into focus. They suggested three other English speaking places, Flycatcher Inn in Santa Elena on the Puuc Route, Casita Carolina in Bacular and Genesis Eco-Retreat east of Valladolid only 2 miles from Ek Balam.

That gave me four major points to make base camps. I divided up the Yucatan into five sections, as the city I was to arrive in on the bus was Merida. I had chosen Merida over Campeche because I found a rental car place there that spoke English, which I found in the tour book. I used them because they answered my e-mail and were kind enough to offer suggestions, answer questions and make me a wonderful offer of a car and insurance for a flat fee for 30 days.

As the plan progressed I continued my search into Chiapas. I e-mailed all the hotels in Palenque. The only one to answer me was Mr. Morales from the Hotel Xilbalba. He also spoke English and was very kind to give me info and suggestions on travel from Palenque to Oaxaca. He could also book a guided tour trip to Bonmapak and Yaxchilan, sites located deep in the rain forest along the Guatemala border.

For the other hotels and hostels in between I contacted and booked the ones that answered my e-mails and spoke enough English to communicate with me.

Hostelworld.com is a great source for off the wall places to stay. As I wanted to spend most of my money on where I was going and not where I was staying I found them a valuable resource for a reasonable safe place that served breakfast with the room fee. Mostly the people tending the hostels spoke English or enough to ask enough questions to get by.

After two months of filling in the blanks and making reservations in the places I wanted to go I was only missing two bookings for a hotel. One was in Coba and the other was Chetumal. Hearing so many horror stories about other travelers in Mexico, I wanted to make as safe a cushion around me as possible. I wanted to be able to get off the bus, get a taxi, go to hotel, get in the door and not be harassed in any way. However, as I was going to be in the rental car for those two places, I figured I would have leeway enough with my transportation to move around if necessary.

Working blind sited as I felt I was, only using other people’s stories and secondhand info to go on, I wanted to be able to show written reservation confirmations to the taxi and bus drivers to get where I was going without any conflict of language. I also hired the Mayan guide, Manny Mata Morales for my week stay in the Santa Elena area for ease of movement along the Puuc Route and the many ancient sites there. Spanish is not as bad of a hurdle to try and leap, but not knowing 37 different dialects of Mayan, made it virtually impossible to navigate through small villages. Manny did.

This was a huge leap of faith and took all the positive energy I had to do this trip by myself. Armed with the itinerary plan I made, the reservation print outs for the hotels, the bus ticket reservations, copies of the tour book pages, my cameras, money belts and two bags I launched myself out the door and kissed my house, chicken girls and cats good-bye for two months. (I had arranged for a house sitter to watch them)

My sister took me to Austin to catch the bus to Reynosa. The greyhound bus ride to the border was uneventful and surprisingly the further south we drove the less English we encountered. I purchased my tickets to Poza Rica at the local Valley Transit bus station in McAllen, Texas and they put me on the shuttle bus to take me to the bus station in Reynosa. I had to cross the border with my stuff and acquire my visa at the same time. Two porters at the border unloaded my bags onto a cart from the shuttle bus and ushered me through the border crossing, one helped me get my visa while the other one stood with my bags and waited for us to come out of the visa office. The officer in the Visa office wrote out the visa using the birth certificate and Texas drivers license I supplied him. He asked where I was going, and how long I would be in Mexico. I told him Merida as he would not have understood the 60-day trip plan or did I have the communication skills to deliver such a long speech. I got a 90-day visa and put it in my pouch. I think he told me to go to the office in Merida and pay for the visa, but I certainly didn’t understand where to go or who to see. I never did do that and returned home without anyone wanting to see my visa. It must have been luck of the gray hair. The bag inspection was to be done at the bus station. The porters then took me back to the shuttle bus which was now waiting on the Mexico side of the border, wheeling my luggage and guiding me by the arm they piled me and my bags back into the front seat. With a lot of hand signals, smiles and a two-dollar tip I was whisked away again to the Reynosa bus station. That was spooky. I was almost terrified with not being able to speak Spanish, but I was on my way and beyond the point of no return. That wasn’t too bad considering I had no idea how it was done or what to expect. That is one thing the tour books don’t tell you, is the step-by-step process of getting across the border. I had to keep a stiff upper lip now and get on the bus to Poza Rica all by myself. I got off the shuttle bus at the Reyona bus station and wheeled my heavy bags through the bus station looking for the ADO bus ticket counter. I showed my reservation and bus ticket purchase to a lovely lady at the ADO bus line counter. I had to get my seat number while trying to watch my bag, which was being crowded out of line by more passengers at the same time. That seemed to take forever without English. Finally, with that done, the last thing I had to do was get through the inspection door. That was actually a gate with a button on it. The gate was surrounded by a metal rail fence you could not crawl through. If your bags were chosen at random you were corralled in that spot until the officers came and opened your things. After more hand waving, pointing and gestures by the officers I figured out I had to press the button on the inspection door. I got a green light. Phew!! I was in Mexico. That was almost spookier than the visa office routine. I had made my way through all that and was standing on the platform waiting for the bus. It would not leave for another two hours, so I relaxed a little. That is when my body told me I had to use the ladies room. How inconvenient of my body to ask for me to do such a task as that meant I would have to go back through the inspection door and into the station to find the ‘bano’ ladies room. I managed to get the attention of one of the bus porters that loaded baggage and gestured to him to watch my bag while I did that and found him quite agreeable and polite. I ran for the ladies room, seeing the metal turn-style gate at the end of the station waiting room. Kerwhop! ! My nose met the metal bars. I was stopped by the locked gate, which would not let me in. I looked at the sign in front of me, 20 pesos it said. Being the money exchange had already closed for the day all I had in the way of Mexican money was a single 500 peso bill. A lady sitting on a chair was watching me. She offered me 20 pesos in exchange for a quarter. We both made out on the deal, she made money on the deal and I got in the bathroom. Another lady told me (hand gestures again) to get my toilet paper before I went in as it was hanging on the wall and not in the stall. I had waited too long and I didn’t think I would make it into a stall in time. I never waited that long again. I learned to allow enough time to find the bano, get the paper, leave a tip and wait in line before I embarrassed myself. I also learned not to flush paper down any toilet in Mexico. Good plan. When I was done I had to re-press the inspection button again to get back on the bus platform. Phew!! Green again. After that bit of drama and stress from being separated from my bags, I found they were fine and I settled down. While I was standing there with my bags the platform started to fill up with people going on the bus. There were a lot of busses leaving for all points in Mexico at night. I sure hoped all those people would not go on mine. I realized how important it was to make your reservation and get you seat number and conformation number even before you buy your ticket. You have an hour before the bus leaves to cancel your reservation. My bus to Poza Rica would take 10 hours of bumpy night riding before it would arrive there in the morning. The bus was full. I think I was the only American aboard. The lady next to me and everyone else didn’t speak English, so I didn’t talk to anyone. I had my blanket and pillow that I carried in a small net gym bag with a strap, so I pulled them out and settled in for the grinding trip south. I think that was the worst road on the trip. The driver hit every hole in the road. He lurched through the dark only stopping for speed bumps (which are called “Topes”) across the road. I peaked out of the window each time the bus slowed to a crawl through every dusty town and I began to think we were going in a circle, as each town looked the same. I wrapped back up in my blanket, which was actually a shawl and re snuggled back in my seat. Here I was in the dark packed in a tight sweaty vehicle rocking back and forth in my seat to the movement of the bus. I mused about the rest of the passengers and thought about the last six months of research I read. I had found the creation myth inscribed on the Tikal bones, (the document is posted on another page with pictures) and mused about each of us being corn seeds compacted in the bus (on the cob) covered with metal (husk) frame. How each of us would be cast into the Universe as we departed the bus and be reborn as little seedlings into our own reality world. The lady next to me looked like she could have stepped out of the past and even without her royal Mayan dress she could have been a spitting image of Lady Xoc, wife of Jaguar Paw and mother of the royal family of Yaxchilan. The bus driver also could have raised himself off any of the sculpted frescos and donned a bus driver uniform. His stature supported chiseled Mayan features his confident manner and regal carriage left me with no doubt I would be safe on the journey in the night ahead. Who can say where the royal bloodlines have ended up in this century and why any job can’t be carried out with royal composure?

I had launched the cosmic canoe and the Mayan behind the wheel in the drivers seat dipped his oars into the night guiding the bus over the debris on the roadway on our way to the cosmic center of the Milky Way. I snoozed haphazardly the rest of the night.

The story continues with the section titled ‘Poza Rica, Papantla and El Tajin.