July 27-29, 1997 Ranch Esmerelda, Tonina (Ocosingo) Mexico From San Cristobol to Ocosingo, the road winds through pine forests and other deciduous growth. We passed through more indian villages with their own distinctive dress different from those we visited. The roads through Campeche are very deceptive. They appear to be nicely paved with median strips. However on occasion, the pavement will warp as if the ground underneath dropped and shifted to the side a foot. This is hard to spot sometimes since there are few breaks in the asphalt, but suddenly the pavement drops, and then comes up again. This is extremely dangerous at high speeds. As a result people don't drive at high speeds. Also, more than any other state, there is evidence still visible of the outside lane falling away down a cliff from underside erosion. Most places this is repaired. We encountered little traffic even on some of the more major roads. The road varied in altitude from 7500 feet to about 4500 feet up until Ocosingo where it dropped we descended 1000 feet to the Ocosingo valley. We had seen an advertisement at a traveller hangout in San Cristobol for a place called Rancho Esmerelda next to the Tonina ruins just outside of Ocosingo. We followed the directions which led us by several new military bases along a rough dirt road that was in the process of being releveled. It took us nearly 30 minutes of driving ~10mph to drive the 5 miles off road to the ranch. Partly along the way, we had to pull to the side to allow on coming traffic to pass. Sharon had gotten her self into a place where she needed to back up up an incline which given her vertically challenged state with this bike. Three men, one on a horse were sitting at this juncture and asked where we were going. I told them. For the next couple minutes they talked over each other repeating themselves and pointing how to get there. We weren't lost, nor did we have problems understanding the first time since it was straight down the road 3km on the right side. They just happened to be long into their Tequila when we arrived, and wanted to be helpful. After I backed Sharon up, I thanked them for the 10th time and we were off. We arrived at the gate which was closed, and saw a woman and a man in their 20s running towards the gate. They spoke excellent English with an accent that I later found out was because their native language was Hebrew. The woman, Mikal, ran through the gate excitedly saying that she wouldn't let us pass until I showed her the motorcycle. Her boyfriend, Aviv, arrived and calmed her down. We parked the bikes inside the ranch. ...more on Mikal and Aviv later. Rancho Esmerelda is a macadamia nut farm run by Glen Wersch and Ellen Jones who are from Idaho. They started this ranch about 2.5 years ago just after the big Zapatista shootout with the Mexican government in Ocosingo. Macadamia orchards haven't existed in the state of Chiapas before this. As a source of cash flow, and also to get some interesting company, they built several bungalows for travellers to come and visit. Their ranch just happens to be a 15 minute hike from the Tonina ruins. Their flyers advertise excellent food, no electricity or phones, and outhouses with scenic views. The thing to do there is eat, relax, enjoy the view. talk with other guests, and visit the ruins which is exactly what we did. We skipped the horse back riding. Mikal and Aviv are two Israeli travellers who arrived their for 2 days, 2 months ago, and never left. They enjoyed it so much that they asked if they could stay for free in exchange they would cook, serve food, etc. It is an excellent place to hang out. The three days we were there we ate some of the best food we've had since we left the states. It wasn't necessarily Mexican though. For breakfast we had wonderful french crepes one morning, and scrambled eggs made with tomatoes and onion on another day. With this comes home grown, home roasted, home brewed dark rich coffee that taste like no other I've had and is quite delicious. Unfortunately it has more caffeine than I've ever experienced before in coffee, and so I was limited to how much I could drink. This was served with banana bread that had a hint of lemon (lime?). The first night for dinner we had a sort of beef stew in a sweet vinegar base with lots of spices I can't remember now. Sliced tomatoes with white cheese served with a vinaigrette drizzled over it made of olive oil, vinegar, Dijon mustard, basil, and a pinch of salt. Coleslaw was served at every meal. While I like coleslaw, since this was on the "absolutely don't eat or you will get sick food list", I refrained from eating the first night. I later found out that all of the vegetables including the cabbage is washed in purified water... This is unusual in Mexico. The coleslaw was delicious. With dinner the first night, we had some of the best Chilean wine I've ever tasted. They charged 18 pesos a glass which was a steal, so of course we drank our fill. It was Concho y Toro 1995 Reservado Cabernet Sauvignon (75%), Merlot (25%). from Valle Central, Chile. Later I asked Ellen how much she paid for it. 40 pesos a bottle ($5) which is a steal. I'll take a couple cases at that price. She said she has only been able to find one case each year in San Cristobol of which she buys the entire inventory. Another night we ate what they called tacos. Tacos at Ranch Esmerelda is a big deal. They marinate the chicken for two days before it is then grilled. Glen believes that the meat must go from the grill to the taco and immediately eaten, so he grills the meat in waves such that none of it will sit around. As condiments for the spicy taco meat they serve a tomato onion cilantro salsa, Mexican crumbly white cheese that has a hint taste of roquefort and Guacamole. This is eaten on flour tortillas that are also made fresh in waves as they are eaten. Glen, Ellen, Mikal and Aviv really appreciate good food, and interesting conversation. Glen and Ellen are in there 50's and have been married for the past 11 years. Glen once worked in the forest service, and then started his own river rafting business. Ellen worked as a social worker in Miami. For the last 11 years they have lived in Chile, Dominican Republic, Idaho and Tonina (Ocosingo) Mexico. They got started with this macadamia nut farm 2.5 years ago. Glen has a zillion projects he's engineering and constantly working on. The number one priority is getting the macadamia orchard going. Since this has never been done in this area, he's having to experiment with climate, soil, insects, etc. The entire orchard has irrigation lines installed. He's built a well, and has plans for a second. A nearby stream is dammed up making a pond which serves as a last reserve. Plumbing across the farm connects up the three water sources. Water from the well is then pumped up to the water tower which provides water pressure for the shower, kitchen and laundry. Currently, he has a generator which is used to power their computer, however he has plans for photo voltaic solar panels, and a battery array. with a thermal solar tracker that automatically focuses the panels on the sun. He's built 7 nice cabins and a large palapa that's used for a dining area. There a large outdoor stone adobe oven that he built for cooking pizza, and will in the future hope to bake french bread/baguettes. It'll cook 7 pizzas at a time and give a perfect crust, however it's a bit eccentric since it takes almost 24 hours to heat up. His design which he learned from a guy on a beach in the Dominican Republic places the chimney in the front rather than the typical back which keeps the smoke from blowing in ones face when it's is opened. The coffee which is all grown there just happened to be on the land when they bought it. They get enough coffee to supply the ranch for the year, but hope to be able to sell it in the future. They've planted corn because they say that it's the politically correct thing to do even though it costs them four times more that it would to just buy it. Refrigeration comes from propane refrigerators. The ranch is running pretty well except that he's in need of a tractor. Apparently used tractors are at a premium. Glen says that in the states 20-30 year old tractors are practically given away for less than $1000 since they don't have a/c cabs or CD players. In Mexico used ones and their parts are at a premium. His neighbor's tractor leaks oil so bad that it's worth his time to fill/drain the oil every time he wants to turn it on..... Conversation about the various projects was interesting. In addition they've had some interesting past experiences. Glen's definitions of adventure is "when you would rather be at home telling the story than having the experience." They told me about when they were rafting down the Usumacinta river in Guatemala and heard some gun fire. Glen got out his binoculars and spied a gun turret who was manned with a soldier who just happened to point his binoculars on him at the same time. Warning shots were fired, and the platoon of 16 year old eager to catch a spy brought them in. Of course the 18 year old commander was furious at Glen and Ellen for disobeying his orders to paddle the raft up the river to shore. After three hours at gun point their case was heard finally by the top guy in charge. The search of their raft turned up topo maps which they found out then were illegal to posses in Guatemala, and their case of beer which the platoon had not had the luxury of drinking for several weeks. The 21 year old declared they were tourists, and shouldn't be shot. A half case of beer later and they were floating down the river... Among other things we talked about the people around here. Ocosingo was the center of the Zapatista uprising were many people died. Ellen summarizes the conflict as one of greed. She says the people here are uneducated, and they've been told that the land owners have taken what belongs to the people when what she says actually happened was that it was sold by their grandparents for a song. Last year the commanding general in the area came around and told the land owners that they were going to build a base in the next valley over, unless land was donated for a base in the Ocosingo valley.... no pressure. The four large land owners each readily donated 10 hectares (25 acres), and it was built there. Ellen tells stories of shooting ranges and bullets whizzing by, and how 500 locals put together a polite letter saying "we're glad the army is here, but we have concerns that cattle, horses, locals and tourists will be shot by stray bullets from the shooting range..." One afternoon, we did here some howitzer cannons booming in the distance as the army trained. I heard stories such as the 26 year old helper, Guadalupe, asking where the sun goes at night. Mikal was asked how long it takes to walk to Israel. Guadalupe's mother says her son has worms now because there has been too much lightening. Ellen told us about one of there neighbors who were owned the ranch that the Tonina ruins just happened to be on. Even through she sold the ruins, she calls herself the Dona of Tonina Ruins. She now works for the government watching over the ruins. Ellen once asked what happened to all the treasure and artifacts at the ruins. She said, "Oh, you want to see them?", and pulled the key out of her pocket. They went into the storage area, and Dona was holding the jewelry up to Ellen saying wouldn't this look good on you... --- Mikal and Aviv climbers travelling to find climbing places taught English in Guatemala Have been at ranch Esmerelda for the past two months for room and board after serving mandatory 2 years in army where she was trialed 4 times for expressing her desire not to be in the army.... worked at a book store for six months, where she was paid in books Dug up a skull for her library since every good library should have a human skull. Then worked in one of the nicest restaurants in Tel Aviv as the Sommille (sp?) and unfortunately developed an expensive taste for wine eager to learn how to ride a motorcycle but had an accident which gave her a severe case of road rash since she was wearing t-shirt, shorts and tevas, it took a couple months to recover from. Was eager to learn how to scuba dive. Shortly after learning, she went down to 50meters! PADI recommends 33meters max for 8 minutes She blew out her ears on the way up. She had what she called a kinderegg hotdog... with what she said was a little Nazi inside. She was sick for days. Mikal says that when ever they meet someone from Germany, conversation dies when she says she is from Israel. She says her mother was a Holocaust victim. Aviv tells me that Israeli's are notorious for bad manners while abroad. They get out of the army and go nuts.... Aviv is the moderate laid back one who keeps Mikal from going overboard. Utne Reader - magazine a very interesting different kind of a magazine we discovered there. We did visit The Tonina ruins twice which is just a 15 minute hike through the jungle and cattle ranches. Tonina still has it's lost in the jungle feel. Work is rapidly going on to restore the ruins. It's possible to see the unexcavated work which just looks like grassy hills, some with trees growing out of them. Quite a contrast to see the excavated product of stone steps. Tonina is quite different from others in that it climbs a hill in the center of the Ocosingo valley giving a beautiful view of the valley below from top of the ruins. We really had a great time at Rancho Esmerelda. If it wasn't for being twice our budget, we would have loved to stay a week or more for the excellent food and interesting conversation. July 30-31, 1997 Palenque, Mexico On the way to Palenque, we stopped at Aqua Azul which from the post cards we've seen is beautiful with many cascading waterfalls and deep blue water. We follow the windy road about 5km off the main road to a gate where the gate keeper charges us 20 pesos per vehicle. When we pull in, kids run up from all over offering to watch the bike. As we're securing the bikes, most loose interest, but one "Victor" stays. I agreed to 5 pesos when we return, even though I expect it's extortion. It's very hot and humid, and we were drenched in sweat. Surrounding the fountains were many little souvenir booths and little eateries. Between these were hoards of tourists. Some local tourists ignore the warning signs with skull and cross bones and swam in the water anyway. The cascading waterfalls were beautiful. The water has a strange blueness that reminds me of the spring water rivers in the Missouri Ozarks. The waterfalls come from cascading pools which sides look like they are built up from calcium deposits similar in appearance to the smoothness of stalagmites in a cave. It's really a beautiful sight, however, the uncontrolled peddler booths everywhere so close to the water really tarnish the experience. A traveller from Texas we met at the ranch told us that he had walked from Palenque to San Cristobol in the early 70s and stayed almost a week sleeping in a hammock at night at Aqua Azul. He had said that at that time, there might have been 100 people per day rather than the 100s per hour now. We took a few pictures and then headed on to Palenque. Victor our motorcycle guard was nowhere near the motorcycle. He gave an embarrassed smile and waved goodbye when I spotted him and asked "Donde esta Victor?". It was getting late, and we wanted to make sure we were in before night fall. Outside Palenque we passed through a military check point who waved us through. We drove up to a campsite just 2km from the ruins. This was our first experience in a Mexican campground. While the camping grounds were nice, the plots to put up one's tent where about 10 feet apart. Camping is not a part of Mexican culture and so I don't think camping etiquette is well known. Several people brought music and played their competing stereos for the campground. At night, One neighbor who I nicknamed as Mr twit, for his obnoxiousness, had his 150 watt light bulb out on an extension cord lighting up the tent area. People spoke in a normal to loud voice so that everyone within 50 feet could here. Fortunately, around 9:30pm, it started to rain. This cooled off the campsite, and reduced the noise level. Mr twit still had his bare light bulb on in the rain and music blaring, but at 10:00pm, the campground turned off power which killed the lights and some of the music. We were fine until around 6:30am, when a group of college age kids woke up and spoke in a normal voice I'm sure waking up everyone in a tent with their noise. Sharon, who it's not a good idea to awaken early was in the foulest of moods. I got up from the noise and started to work on the R80G/S. Meanwhile reminding the kids that despite the fact that they can't see the people behind the tents, everyone can hear every word. Yesterday, the R80G/S engine was sounding a little louder than usual. After riding so often recently, I can usually hear when the engine is 1/4 to 1/2 quart low on oil. It's a very subtle difference in engine sound. I filled the engine which helped, however the valves also sounded a little louder than normal, so I wanted to do a valve adjustment. It just happened to be around the 4k mile regular adjustment period when this should be done anyway. So this morning, I adjusted the valves and retorqued the heads. I cleaned and checked the gap on the plugs. They've been burning a bit rich.... but no surprise since we just came out of the mountains. I do suspect that I should be running with 145 main jets rather than the 150s that are in there. The previous owner was unclear about changing the jets when he put a different exhaust system on. Wrong plugs further compounded the problem. I've been hesitant on changing the plugs since I'd rather run rich than to lean and possibly to hot. There's a thermometer dipstick on the R100GS, however one wouldn't fit on the R80G/S with the large Acerbis gas tank. We had our breakfast of an omelet with american cheese and french fries inside and a side of refried beans... (sustenance), went off to the ruins vowing to try a different campground. We arrive at the parking lot of Palenque, and are greeted again by several boy that offer to watch our motorcycles for 5 pesos each. They're pretty persistent, After locking the bikes and covering them, I agree to pay one of them 5 pesos when we return for both motorcycles. We had been warned that Palenque was hot, and those warnings didn't let us down. It was really hot with the few breezes confined to the top of the structures and near the edges. Palenque is beautiful, and well restored. It certainly is the most impressive of all the sights we visited. It's set in a jungle surrounding where one can hear an eerie off pitch whining of insects that helps set the mood of being in another world. The palace is a stone structure with many passage ways, courtyards, and rooms, and is the structure typically pictured in views of Palenque. The temple of inscriptions, next to the palace, has a hidden passageway leading to the tomb of Pakal that was only recently discovered in the past couple decades. I climbed up the 68 steps, and to the top where the entrance goes down a steep (~68) step passage way. At the bottom, the entrance to the tomb was sealed with a great triangular stone door. Inside is a huge, approximately seven feet by twelve feet by five, rectangular solid stone sarcophagus where the shape of a body is carved out inside which is where Pakal was buried. Hovering three feet above, is a ~7x12 foot intricately carved stone slab that sealed shut the sarcophagus. The jeweled death mask of Pakal was on display in the Anthropological museum of Mexico city until it was stolen in 1985. We explored the surrounding temples, and went into the surrounding jungle away from the crowds, and explored along the now dried up creek bed. Like we saw at Tonina, it's quite a contrast to see these structures unrestored. They look like rocky hills with grass, bushes and trees growing on them. It's amazing that they can still be put back together to what is seen now. During the Mayan hay day, All stone structure in many of the cities where painted with a crimson paint. Some of the paint still remains. As we unlocked our bikes, five boys watched including the one who was suppose to watch the bikes. A little one came up and asked for the five pesos that I had agreed to pay the other. In Spanish I said, "Three times I return to motorcycles, and three times no friend to watch". An older kid translated to the native language which was not Spanish, and thwacked the kid who had an embarrassed smile. We drove back to the same campground tired, thirsty, hot and hungry not possessing the energy to look for another campground. We set up our camping stove and Sharon whipped up some spaghetti and Spam for dinner which while we were so famished sounded wonderful. However as our stomachs filled, it became less and less appetizing and we didn't quite finish the pot. We drank quite a few cold beers which we bought at the canteen. As we were making dinner, next door to us two woman pull up in their Nissan sedan. There were quite a few empty camp sights, but they chose the one 10 feet from us. I gave them a very friendly greeting hoping to imply that if they wanted some space they should choose another spot, or they will have to be our best buddies for the night, hopefully respecting our peace. It worked out well. They were very friendly back. They offered to make a beer run into town since beer at the canteen was three times the liquor store price. We declined since we had already drank five. I lit a candle for them since they didn't have any light. I talked with one while the other went into town. She asked if we were married, and all of the other background type questions. I asked if she was married to which she said "no, but I have two kids." The hairdresser who had cut my hair in Huatulco had said the same thing, "no, but I have two kids". It only struck me as odd that this information be so rapidly volunteered where in *older conservative* american culture, being an unwed mother is socially not held in high regard, and is not usually information that is so eagerly volunteered to strangers. The two women had come, one with one of her sons from Villahermosa which is a couple hours away. They had planned to see Palenque in the morning. They didn't have any camping equipment except for a blanket. We warned them that it rains around here at night, and as it did the night before it did again tonight. I welcome the rain since it cools down the air, and quiets down the camping area. We stayed dry in our tent. August 1st, 1997 Campeche, Mexico I woke up this morning and it was 84 degrees in our open tent at 7:00am. I greeted our Mexican neighbors who slept in their small Nissan sedan. I asked them if they slept well, to which they said "Yes, thank you". I started to work on the left pannier of the R80G/S. We had taken the removable Al Jesse aluminum panniers off the night before using them as stools at our camp sight. When I attempted to put the left one back on in the evening, I noticed that it was out of adjustment. This is the side that the R80G/S had fallen over onto at the ranch the day before. Apparently some metal had moved, and now the pannier wouldn't latch without further adjustment. The simple adjustment screw that the pannier latches onto requires a 5/8" wrench. I'm carrying a large set of tools, but only metric. I had debated on carrying an adjustable wrench, but decided not to given the size and weight, plus I couldn't think of any non-metric bolts requiring it. My small vice grips didn't work. I looked up the word for wrench in the dictionary. It had several words for wrench that meant I might get my self into trouble. This would be the equivalent of a non english speaker looking up "wrench" in an English dictionary and seeing "spanner". Any English man would hear you and hand you a wrench, but an American would say "You want what?". As is my usual custom when using new nouns from my dictionary, I drew a picture of a wrench should the word I choose not work. I asked our neighbors if they had a blablabla, to which they said "a what?". Then I showed them the picture. They said "ohhhh, una llave". I had intentionally not chosen that word from the dictionary since llave is also the word for a key, and I didn't want people thinking the crazy gringo is asking for a key to the campground. They said no, but handed me some pliers (pinchers) which wouldn't quite do. However, now possessing the colloquial term around here for a wrench I felt prepared to query the proprietors. I went to the campground receptionist and asked her "Do you have a wrench for my motorcycle?" I threw in the "my motorcycle", and showed her the picture hoping to establish the context of "a wrench", and not "a key". As I expected, this girl who takes food orders and sells stuff from the canteen says "No." as if I thought she might have one in her pocket. After a pause, I asked her "Where is a wrench?" She shakes her head, and then points to the owner of the campground who just happened to stop in for a cup of coffee at that moment. He asks how big, and how long to which I give him an estimate. I walk back to our campsite with four standard size open ended wrenches from the back of his VW van. I use the 5/8" to loosen the adjustment bolt and I'm done. The adjustment bolt is out about as far as it can go. It'll do for now, however, when I get to a better place, I need to readjust/remount the pannier mounting system. After we were all packed up we went back to the canteen and ordered some breakfast. I had an omelet stuffed with american cheese and french fries. While Sharon ordered an oatmeal with milk, and got what she described as horse food swimming in hot milk. While waiting for the food. a four inch scorpion walked across the floor. I picked up a chair in the direction it was headed. It made a b-line for the shadow casted by the chair I was holding. When it got in range, it was squished by the chair leg which it's pinchers and tail flailed at. I told the receptionist about it. She walked over and nonchalantly kicked it a few times out the door with her foot that was only covered with a simple rubber thong... as if I were a weenie for being concerned. The roads from Palenque to Campeche are flat, straight, hot, humid, and other than the clusters of pot holes fairly descent. Occasionally we would see lizards running on their rear two feet scurrying to get out of the path of the motorcycle. There was the occasional squished snake on the road, and we ran across another dead bloated cow on the side of the road that the vultures were making a feast of. Some tourists from Mexico city that we met in Ranch Esmerelda had told us that should we hit a farm animal such as a chicken, we need to stop and pay for it. Some friends of theirs didn't, and at the next town the police had been telephoned, and a road block was set up. Live chickens go for 30-50 pesos around here. I'd hate to have to pay for a cow. Sharon came close to hitting some turkey in the road today. I seem to remember they go for around 120 pesos. We hit another military check point. This one was more laid back like the ones up North. The soldier babbled something at me to which I said "huh?". He then said "tourist?" I said "Si". "from Palenque". "si". "to Campeche?" "si". "American?" "si" "ok, go on." It was obvious that this soldier had stopped many tourists on this route which I would bet 99% say the exact same thing. His commanding officer standing next to him was curious to see what was in my pannier and so pointed to it. He found my teva sandals, and our big bag of film. The commanding officer smiled showing his silver edged front teeth, and said we could go.... A month ago, these heavily armed check points made me nervous. I'm getting used to seeing lots of automatic weapon carrying militia. On the South side of Seyba Playa (33km South of Campeche), we stopped for lunch at a little sea side restaurant. I had a fresh fish fillet grilled in garlic and butter, while Sharon had a breaded fish fillet each were 15 pesos ($1.87). The soda of the Yucatan is Crystal. I had a green Crystal while Sharon had a yellow. Mine was a lemon lime that reminded me most of Limca in India... a disappointment if one expects sprite or fresca. Sharon's yellow Crystal was a carbonated apple like beverage. On the horizon, we could see a rain storm wall we were about to enter. This was the main reason to stop for lunch here rather than in Campeche. However, after an hour, it hadn't changed much so we suited up for the storm. We passed through a light rain that only lasted for about 5 minutes. We arrive in Campeche, and as usual we attempt to navigate as close as possible to the hotel we have in mind from reading our guide books. The center of town is usually the only reference. All of the cities/towns in Mexico have signs that will almost always get one within the vicinity of the zocalo or city center. The guide books we are using have hotels and maps of around the city center. We drove by 14th street twice which is the street our hotel is on. The first time, we missed it because it had an odd barricade with side passages in front making it appears as though it wasn't a real street. The second time we were heading in the wrong direction to turn. We parked the bikes, and I went looking for our hotel on foot while Sharon watched the bikes in the sweltering heat and harsh sun. I found the hotel without a problem. I waited for five minutes as an Israeli traveller argued with the receptionist. He didn't know enough Spanish, so he attempted to default to English. He was attempting to argue that he was going to check out at 2:00am and shouldn't be charged the whole night for it (even though the prices for these room are ridiculously low compared to the rest of Mexico). I remembered Aviv's warning about notorious reputation Israeli travellers have. Even though I knew the Spanish this traveller was struggling for, I decided to with hold assistance, so as to maintain my neutrality with this silly request. He asked to speak to the owner... who was out. During a lull, I was able to get my question in, and found out they did have rooms, and that parking was four blocks away. I parked the R80GS, carried my bags back to the hotel, and then it started to rain, and rain and rain. The hotel clerk told me that it rains like this all of the time from now until September in the morning, afternoon, and night. I now understood why the sidewalk is two to three feet above the street. The street was covered with ~6-8" of rapidly running water. The entire 14th street was a storm gutter for the area. The odd entranced blockade we encountered while trying to turn onto this street turned out to be the entrance to the storm gutter system that 14th street river ran into. Getting a little impatient and feeling the need to rescue Sharon from her boredom, I ran out into the rain following the river outside our door down to where Sharon had taken shelter inside a natural juice bar. We waited out the shower. I drove the R100GS to the parking garage while Sharon walked to the hotel. At the garage, several boys in their early 20's where hanging around. Starting some small talk as I locked up the bike, I mentioned how hot it was, and asked if it was always like this. The said yes, and that it was hot all throughout Mexico. I told them it was cold in San Cristobol to which they looked at me blankly. After a moment, one chimed in that San Cristobol was in Chiapas. I said Yes, and that it was in the mountains. A brighter one said "ohhh", and then explained to the others that because it was in the mountains, it was cooler. They asked questions about the bikes such as engine displacement, and number of cylinders. They asked what the weather was like where I was from in Chicago. One of them excitedly asked about the Chicago Bulls. I gave him a couple Arsenio Hall hoots and cheers which I think revved him a bit. He proclaimed the Bulls are the best, and ran into the parking lot garage guard house to get something. I could see him searching for something under a mattress. His friend was moaning saying, No,no,no, not Chicago Bulls, Miami Heat or Utah Jazz is best. The first guy returned with a Chicago Bulls program brochure which he showed me pictures of Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippin of which we proclaimed were "muy bien". In actuality, I've only seen about 3 Bulls games in my life, However, the excitement made me instant friends with these guys. They asked me to stay a while and drink some beer. I explained that "My wife is sad because she has a lot of water from the rain and is at the hotel". They offered to show me where some beautiful girls were. Meanwhile I continued to lock up the bikes. They brought out a quart size bottle of cold Superior beer and offered me some. Being quite dehydrated it was most excellent, and had me craving for more. I asked them if they liked Mezcal which I happened to have on the bike. They said "Tequila?", moaned, and got all excited explaining that that's from Mexico where it's the best in the world. They asked for my address to write to which I gave them. They gave me a 100 (old) peso ($.01) coin which is no longer in circulation as a souvenir. I told them I would bring them an American coin tomorrow since I left them with my clothes back in the hotel. I have no doubts that my new buddies will watch out for the bikes.... For dinner, Sharon and I ate three tiny bags of Ruffles (pronounced 'Roo Flays'), and a quart size bottle of cold Superior beer. ... we had a late lunch, and were suffering from dehydration. FYI: It's easy to find potato chips in Mexico, however it's difficult to find them in bigger than a snack size package (40 grams). August 3th, 1997 Campeche, Mexico We stayed another day to work on getting our journals caught up. Walking around town we came across the inland city wall. In the 17th century pirates plundered and pillaged Campeche several times since it was one of the richer towns in the area. By the end of the 17th century, the residents had built an impenetrable fortress wall with 2 meter thick walls, and huge baluartes that supported many cannons. The entire city was surrounded. In order to dock, one had to sail through the sea gate, where a hostile boat could be easily obliterated. We walked around town and along some of the still standing fortress walls and baluartes. pretty cool... those spaniards built a mean castle back then... We haven't been having much good luck with the restaurant scene in Campeche. Most places are mediocre. Yesterday I had a wonderful red snapper cooked 'mojo de ajo' style which is basically butter and garlic. Fish is fresh in this town. The first couple times ordering it, I asked if it was fresh... Both times, I got a "Are you kidding?" look, and so haven't asked any more. Yesterday's fish was the exception to the mediocre food though. We stopped in a restaurant that our guide book recommended and that was full of people. Sharon and I both ordered one of their specials of the day. The only word we could make out was Gallina which means hen. We expected to get some chicken. Instead we got a cold assortment of beef and boiled vegetables that included carrot, sweet tasting potato, plantain, cabbage and a chunk off a cob of corn. This was sitting all in a sort of chicken broth. The thing that turned us off most about this was that it was room temperature which when worrying about whether you're going to be tied to the toilet for the week becomes hard to enjoy. We ate it only because we figured that with a crowd of locals this size, they must not dish out too many cases of dysentery. After we finished our meal, A clean cut nicely dressed American came over and introduced himself to us. His name was Sam and was from Sunnyvale California where he had recently been laid off from Apple and was now travelling around Mexico these past three weeks with his little brother. Sam had just arrived, and was looking for an apartment that he could rent around here for the next couple of months and study Mayan civilization. He came down here in his Toyota corrolla hatch back loaded with books on Mayan civilization. We asked him how his travels have been with a car. He said it was fine except for the fact that someone stole the speakers he had mounted on the outside of his car. He told us that he had small speakers mounted between the hood and windshield of his car which happens to be painted red with a giant yellow hammer and sickle on the hood. He said he use to drive through the mexican towns blaring Soviet army march music from his car. When he did that in the states, he said people would get pissed off at him, but in Mexico, they just thought it was kind of funny. Later, I saw his car. The custom california plates say "J STALIN", and on his dash board he has four digital clocks pasted with pen written masking tape below denoting which clock is for Moscow, Beijing, Havana, or San Francisco time. Sam wears a cap similar to what laborers in the early 20th century might have, and some spectacles that I noticed were turning his skin green where they touched his cheeks which made me wonder if they were prescription or just worn for show. He told us that some of the military checkpoints asked if he was communist to which he proudly reported that he was. He said they smiled and sent him on. Two years ago he had gone to China for two weeks. We traded experiences of travelling through China. I voiced my observation that the *people* of China were more hard core capitalists than anywhere else in the world. He didn't appear to disagree. Sam showed me his digital camera that he's using to take pictures with. On a 4 meg card, he can store up to 60 pictures which he then uploads to his computer. The only problem he says is that the camera chows down on the batteries. It won't work on NiCads and he is having difficulty finding lithium AA batteries which I know aren't cheap even in the states. Cool idea... but with unfortunate limitations still. He only recently heard about rechargeable alkalines. As always, we got a downpour in the late afternoon that fills up the 14th street river that our hotel is on. Fortunately, the roads drain pretty quick, and soon after it stops we can cross the road. August 4th, 1997 Campeche, Mexico Again we stayed another day to work on our journals. We stopped in the liquor store to return our quart size bottle of beer and made note of the organizational skills typical of several of the stores we've been in. Excuse Me, "Where do you keep your Cuervo 1800 Tequila?" "Oh, it's on the shelf below the lolly pops, and spare video cassette recorder gears to the left of the speaker terminals and three musketeer candy bars...." Today we were on a hunt for toothpaste since we ran out and our spare tube was stolen off our bike in San Cristobol. The first pharmacy we went in, we found the toothpaste in the insecticide/dental care section. Toothpaste and other oral hygiene is on the shelf below the industrial size pump bug spray. Apparently this doesn't bother most people since the store looked like it was doing good business.