Day Two: Getting There, San Cristobal de las Casas

Cathedral, under repair after earthquakes

The first day in San Cristobal is dedicated to getting there. We found the bus by taking a taxi in Tuxtla to the bus station and from there hopped on a nice Mercedes style bus thing. The bus was not the wreck I envisioned full of squawking chickens, sheep and farmers in from the country. The Mexican bus stations are more civilized and better run than the ones in the USA because these folks use them and depend on them for regular transport. Most of the roads and some of the cars and all of the drivers would make me use the bus, without factoring in the lack of stop signs at four way corners. More on the way they do traffic later....

Transport of Choice: the motorbike

The roads are in rough shape but being worked on constantly. I could see some earthquake damage but not nearly what I expected to see and figuring out road work from earthquake damage was confusing. Excavating cobble stones is probably not much fun, but road crews are at work everywhere. The road through Tuxtla was seriously bumpy, but after we hit the 'new highway' it was smooth sailing up, up into the mountains. Out the window I could see field after small field of corn in pastures hacked out of the forested hillsides by small farmers.

Bars over all the windows are a tradition from colonial days. Most windows are right on the street and have shutters too.

It was green and gray and the hill tops were covered in clouds and and mist. Lynne kept lamenting that she had wanted me to see the amazing views across and down into the valleys, prevented in large part by the fog.We climbed from 1700 feet in Tuxtla up to San Cristobal de las Casas at 7200 feet, so there were a lot of valleys to see down into through the climb. I was seriously grateful for the new highway that apparently eliminated a lot of the great views but it also eliminated a lot of the sheer drop offs and washouts that plagued the hour long  journey to San Cris historically.

Check out that street surface. Lumpy and slick.

 The city is kind of located in the middle of nowhere and was founded by Spanish conquerors in 1528 as their base in Central America. They made immense fortunes in farming and forced the indigenous people into slavery and labor, an old and familiar story. The monks who arrived about 1548 defended the indigenous people and earned the unending enmity of the landowners. This is still somewhat true. A lot has changed but a lot has not, there are still racial tensions between the indigenous and the Spanish. The Spanish took the center of the city for their own and the indigenous tribes ringed the periphery which gives the city a unique flavor to this day. Each group has their own barrio, or neighborhood and their own skill set, be it pottery, wood working, weaving or whatever. It gives the city a really unique flavor when you figure it out.

Church in San Cristobal with earthquake damage

We had a great conversation with a fellow passenger, a young hipster guy going home for the weekend. He practiced his English and I worked on my lame Spanish, which has totally rusted from disuse being away from my Southern California homeland. Lynn assisted and for the first of many times, I bless both her fluency and her joy at interacting with everyone she meets.

Color everywhere! What is lacking in street greenery is made up for in paint jobs, and inside these doors are flourishing private gardens which fascinated me.

We got into town, grabbed another taxi and as we rode along, I was fascinated by the architecture. Houses that have shuttered, barred windows and massive locked doors. You step out the door and you are on a sidewalk about 18 inches wide max, and maybe two feet up. Its also incredibly lumpy and old and made of slippery-assed chunks of native stone that are determined to kill or wound the unwary. The colors were tropical and wonderful and no two houses are alike. No plants or trees on the streets. Those are inside the courtyards or in the parks only. Visibly, very different than our neighborhoods here. Most of the churches, one to a barrio, were damaged and closed after the earthquakes, which made me sad, but they are working to repair them.

Our own neighborhood with crazy sidewalks and a narrow street.

This is a pedestrian oriented city. A zillion zipping motor scooters and small taxis but twice that many folks on foot. And yes, there are areas on the outskirts of town that are total slums and that are not safe in any way for tourists. BUT, the city and most of its environs are amazingly safe. We wandered around on foot late at night and not one time did we feel at risk. These folks do a lot of their living in the evening  and out of doors at tiny bars and restaurants where locals and expats hang out until late into the evening in the areas we were in.  On the other hand, I have never seen so many bars and locks on buildings in my life. I guess its kind of a fact of life if you leave it unattended you deserve to lose it. A very laissez faire attitude. And...I lost my little digital camera by leaving it on the bus. Not my big sexy camera, just a last minute little addition I chucked in. Oh well, someone got a nice camera but they don't have the charger, so there. And all my pix of the trip through the mountains were in that camera so, I just have memories.

sometimes one lock is just not enough

We got delivered to our hotel and found it to be magical, wonderful, beautiful and perfectly located. I would recommend the Parador Margarita to anyone traveling to San Cris. Breakfast was included and the people working there were wonderful. Even the view from the balcony was spectacular. Stepping outside, we experienced the first of firecrackers and fireworks beyond counting almost immediately and they puzzled me until I figured them out.

The courtyard of our hotel.

If you can't handle noise, don't go to Mexico. Fireworks every hour of the day or night; its how the indigenous people get their Saints' attention. Always,chickens crowing, dogs barking, construction crews playing Mexican heavy metal on their radios and taxis vrooming, the water vendors ringing bells and others hollering what they have for sale in the street. Here, life is lived out loud. Embrace it!

Lynne walking down our street, Doctor Jose Felipe Flores Avenue. These streets have some crazy long names!

We unpacked settled in and stepped out to another world....