Our first day cycle touring in Mexico was a complete gong show. We had chosen a steep, supposedly quiet road that climbs between two 5000m volcanoes just outside of Mexico City. Unfortunately, so did 5000 Defeños on their Sunday drive. This created a giant traffic jam on top of the mountain, that we had to squeeze our way through. It was still beautiful though, and meant that there were lots of little old ladies selling quesadillas with special mushrooms that only grow on corn plants.
Down from the mountain, we cycled for about a week through hot, dry, hilly cowboy country, staying in little colonial towns with pretty colonial churches. Whenever we stopped for vitamin T (tortas or tacos or tlayudas), we would practice our Spanish with the nice chatty Mexicans, many of whom who had lived in the States at some stage. Some of these guys spoke about paying $3000 to a Cayote who smuggled them across the boarder, others about walking for 10 days in the desert or swimming the river. One man who invited us into his house for coffee, was arrested twice and bussed straight back into Mexico. He still went back – to earn $4 an hour for a racist boss – and said that it was worth the effort.
We finally arrived in Oaxaca City, and liked it so much that we stayed for two weeks, living in our new tent (Hugh) on the roof of a hostel, and studying Spanish.
To finish off, we spent four days missioning through the mountains down to the coast. Inspired by some other cyclists, we took some incredible, tough roads through tiny towns and lonely pine forests. When we hit the coast it was ridiculously hot and humid, so we hopped on a bus for twelve hours back into the hills of the state of Chiapas. Tomorrow we are back on the bikes and heading towards Guatemala.