Oaxaca and Chiapas

I arrived in Oaxaca City around 6am and limped to the hostel. Here I was informed that I would not be able to check into the hostel properly until 1pm and so I decided to sleep on a bed in the lounge while everyone else had breakfast around the sleeping hobo. When I woke up, I was locked into a discussion oin politics with a girl from Wahsington state that did not go too well. I have concluded I have a problem travelling. I possess a rational world view. My politics are centre left, but compared to other travellers (who seem to be way out lefty in the loony lands) I am decidedly way to the right of traveller central politics. One mad Yankee in this hostel was telling me Obama will be assassinated and he is controlled by the powers that be (unlikely though still a fear of mine), that all newspapers have corporate agendas except his online socialist daily (which of course can be entirely trusted to give a fair and impartial view) and that prejudice is ok if you are the weaker and racism implies power (I argued no, that by definition racism implies prejudice with no real evidence and subsequently it is wrong for the oppressor or the victim to utter prejudicial remarks). The one consolation I have is these beatniks get loads of nodding assents, until I point out the asinine nature of their comments and how they have not contemplated many different angles to a situation. Its tiring but it shuts them up. It does always remind me of the stupid actors guild in Team America as well, so at least that makes me laugh. On a plus side the hostel worker was an Israeli woman with a wicked accent. I could not put my finger on where it was from at first, but makes me want to visit Israle if they all sound like that.

I spent the afternoon updating my blog with the last few entries. Peter had arrived in Oaxaca from some random mountain town in the afternoon and joined me, this American socialist (the fucking idiot I was ranting about earlier), and cool Aussie guy named Mike and a Swedish girl. We talked on all sorts and drank and the Socialist chatted bollocks and some sense. The left and right are very good at identifying problems and phenomenally awful at suggesting solutions, because they have their predetermined mantras to stick to. There was also an Aussie woman in my dorm who talked a lot of shit and seemed to be on a mission to self destruct as quickly as possible from a desperate craving for attention. On the plus side the hostel was kind of cool. I persuaded the Swede, Peter and Mike to come out down the valley the next day. I will just give a quick summary of the things I have seen before and am skipping this time. In Mexico City Teotihuacan is a must see for the pyramids there and probably the best day trip, Oaxaca City is overrated as a city but the little municipal regional museum is worth checking out. Also down near Comitan there is the Lagunas de Cinco Colores which are worth a day trip for the spectacular water there. Finally there is the Sumidero Canyon where you can take a lancha ride along through a canyon to a hydroelectric plant. I missed all of these things this time.

We headed off on a bus down to Mixtla that you can pick up from the market place. Here we managed to haggle down the driver to 40 pesos each from 50 after recruiting two Italians. Me, Mike and the Swede got in the back of the truck and were treated to an open top ascent of these steep, windy, dusty roads. Very dusty roads. It caked us in the stuff and you could even taste it in your mouth. Well I suppose they say you have to taste the country, but I was not thinking literally. Its also a reasonably scary drive as the truck totters on the edge. At Hieve del Agua there are calcified waterfalls and a pretty cold (for me and the Aussie anyway, the others found it fine) water pool to swim in. Another warmer one was encrusted with sulphur and so the Yankee tour group (a fit young bunch) would not enter it. We swam here for a bit and got the truck back to Mixtla to see some ruins (that were ok but not worth the detour). Sadly we did not get to see the biggest tree in the world (which would disappoint Ollie) because it actually has entrance times. Yes a tree can apparently be closed off. Not sure how. Its a fucking tree and to top it off, its tghe biggest tree. I had thought it was open all the time because the when asked what it cost the Swede said 3 pesos, but I had heard its free. Damn my shit hearing. In the evening we drank in the hostel again.

The following morning we decided to cycle up to Monte Alban. This looked easier on paper than it was to prove in practice. It was effectively a 1.5 hour climb. The Swede, her gears not working, dropped off first. Then me and Mike conked out about half way up. We would cycle sporadically the rest of the way, while Peter made it all the way to the top with some breaks but no pushing. We got some overpriced food and had a wander around the ruins. They were good, but more impressive because of the setting on top of the mountain and the satisfaction of having made it up it by our own power. The Swede joined us an hour later and we cycled down the hill in what was a more pleasant. We cycled along sand tracks that kept trying to jacknife the bikes and was constantly bucking us and along river valleys with arches of bamboo like Savannah. Then we had to come back to town via the main roads and were ducking and diving the traffic like cycling version of frogger. We got called gringos and given the werewolf sign. Tsk Tsk. I could recognise these insults now lol. When we got back I headed to the bus station with the Swede and realised I had left my fucking bank card in Xalapa. Luckily I had my Nat West overdraft on the other account and my mum could bring the card out to Canada. Shit. I had made the same fuck up that Ollie had done in Seattle. At this point I was tired and went back to the hostel where Batman and a Bruce Willis omnibus was playing. I chatted with an English guy who had gone round the world on only 1,700 pounds. Made my budgeting look shit. There was an ensemble there, Peter let me use his skype account to cancel my card and I eventually set off for a night bus to Tuxtla Gutierrez.

I arrived early in Tuxtla and not to the tiny little concrete shithole on the centre of town I had last time. The place with no baggage lock up so we had rented a hotel just for our bags to have somewhere to stay. This time it was a shiny, gleaming new place with state of the art shopping centre. I met Geli's sister Brigitte and her husband Walter. They took me to the zoo and we spent about 5 hours there. There were some aggressive birds there who apparently attack people and seemed to be everywhere eating all the animals food. They were kind of like park wardens crossed with vigilantes. They populated every cage and made it their own. There were two of them that had to be caged for the tourists. That must suck. All the other run free and do anything, while you have to be one in a cage. Maybe they rotate. Its a cool zoo as zsome of the animals roam free (like whipsnade) they all have space and the owner looks like Fidel Castro, while also being an orchestra conductor. Afterwards we grabbed some Chinese food and played badminton in the car park downstairs. We all sucked in the twilight as you can't see the shuttlecock. Then we played some bilingual scrabble, which was interesting. I played in English while Walter and Brigitte played in Spanish. No w's though which was sucky. I won just and then we went out to see some Marimba. The national marimba champions has swung by to play, as they do and I met them briefly, although they did think I must be a convict to want to travel for so long.

In the morning I headed to Comitan and booked into a place for the night. I did not have time for the lakes, but decided to go out to El Chiflon again. The dudes at the bus place had found a dead snake somewhere (at least I think it was dead) and were playing with it in the base of the bus. I slept on the way out there as I was knackered and again effectively had my own bus. Last time I was here it was cool but April, this time they have installed a zip line over the waterfall but it was not in operation. It was also just after rainy season so it was very powerful this time and I got soaked from the spray and when I walked down I had to wait at the side of the road for a bus. Here I was attacked by some turkeys. Viscious little bastards. They kept gobbling and siddling closer until they were almost upon me. Luckily a bus swung by and I lept in to my safety and to the laughter of my co-travellers. El Chiflon is the highest waterfall in Mexico and very powerful and well worth a day trip. In the evening I met Ana and her friend Sally for some bar hopping in Comitan and promised them a return drinking session next monday. We had a good time and apparently I have to try this drink Porsh which is like some kind of super strength moonshine.

I slept later than planned and there were no OCC buses left. I had to take a minivan down to the border with Guatemala and a place called Ciudad Cuahtemoc. There I did not see emigration stupidly and took a taxi to the bordertown of 'ah bugger I can't remember its name but it began with M I think'. On the way I passed a sign saying 'good journey, come back soon'. Yep I was back very soon when I was informed I had not got my stamp. Oh well 3 steps over the border was three more than I had managed last time I wanted to come here. Fuck it. Only enough money for one taxi (or so I thought, I just can't count. Thought I had 19, I had 20, taxi is ten). So I walked back 4km which was forbidden but fuck them. I got my stamp and took another taxi back up. At last. At the third attempt I had made Guatemala. Bloody maestro cards don't work very well though so I had to try many banks, all with their own pump action shotgun toting guard before I found one that would give me money and I got on a chicken bus to Huehuetenango