Missions, Castles and Mining Towns: Days 16-20. Xilitia, Zacualtipan, Pachuca, Tlaxcala, Puebla

Day 16: The Mission Corridor to Xilitla

What a day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's amazing what a traveler can accomplish in a day, starting early, and using Mexico's efficient bus system and economical taxis.

Father Junipero Serra is esteemed as the Father of California Missions, but also he's venerated in Mexico as the Father of the Sierra Gorda Missions: Conca, Jalpan, Landa de Matamoros, Tilaco and Tancoyol.

Following the arrival of Father Junipero Serra in 1750 in the Sierra Gorda of Central Mexico, 5 baroque missions were built using indigenous artists and stonemasons. Each mission façade is a masterpiece and listed as a World Heritage Site. Each is unique and reflects the fusion of the indigenous and Spanish cultures. They are remote. Roads to all five were not constructed until 1963.

Like the "Victorian Ladies," houses in San Francisco, these missions were neglected until the 1960s when their baroque façades, with indigenous elements in the iconography became appreciated. The most elaborate, and considered the jewel of the Sierra Gorda Missions, Tilaco, was so remote that in order to renovate the mission, a road had to be built.

In fact the first workhorse truck had to be dismantled, carried over the mountains, and reassembled.

Doreen Stevens (www.ourmexico.com/story.php?storyID=20) wrote a superb article "Sierra Gorda Missions," and described the 5 missions. I cannot add to her comprehensive article, but as a bus rider, I do show the adventurous reader how a traveler can see and enjoy Mexico.

I started early. I hate to roll out of bed before the dawn. When I get up, I want the sun to shine or at least be aware that it's up before me. But dawn comes about 7 a.m. in this part of Mexico and that's the time my bus left Rio Verde for the Sierra Gordas, a paradise of mountains, gorges, a river and valley towns.

The Rio Verde taxi driver must have felt the same about rising before dawn. There was no cab waiting at the stand to take me to the bus terminal, but I had time to walk the mile or so, about 20 minutes.

The clerk at the bus counter remembered my name, Ricardo, and when I asked for a ticket to Conca, she automatically typed in my name and assigned me seat number 3, same as the day before.

I had 5 missions to visit, three on the same route, 2 hidden in the mountains. I figured I could take the bus to 3 and negotiate with taxi drivers for the side trips. Yes, buses do trek into the Sierra Gorda, but some routes are daily, not hourly, when you leave the main road, highway 120.

The day went smoothly.

I was soaked in the rain, burned in the sun, rode buses and taxis, marveled at the missions, ate breakfast in Conca, met the Secretary of Tourism, took a zillion photos(hope I can remember the order of the missions when I get home) skipped lunch in favor of cokes, checked into El Castillo in Xilitla, ate supper, Pollo a la Mexicana, and by 6:30 p.m. I was using the Internet at the Cyber Cafe. That's a lot of activity packed into12 hours.

The early morning bus driver from Rio Verde believed his passengers had snoozed enough. He started the engine, and before backing out of the stall, he turned on Norteño polka-accordion music. He liked it loud and because he was the driver, he got his choice. We um-pahed, um-pahed, um-pahed, um-pahed for the next hours, in and out of three towns. The lyrics were clear. It's not a bad way to practice your Spanish on a trip.

I left my notes someplace, and I wasn't sure of all the missions' names. I asked the driver, "Is there a mission in Conca?" "Conca?" he says, "There is nothing there. There is an old hacienda." As we approached Conca the mission church stood out against the skyline, tall steeple, a tower and a half dome vault. Sometimes I wonder what I said in Spanish and what I think I said.

I had an hour to see the mission and eat breakfast, plenty of time as the town's main restaurant was a block from the church. I did have to walk the 8 blocks to the cafe where a sign read, "Gloria's Restaurant Secretary of Tourism."

Gloria turned out to be a bouncy, 4 foot 8 inch charmer and cook. I asked about the Secretary. She said, "That's for tourists, they come in for advice and find a place to eat."

I ordered Mexican scrambled eggs and coffee. Gloria asked, "With chili?" I said, "Yes." We talked. I took her picture, gave her a Polaroid. She beamed with pleasure.

The tortilla man, with a loud amplified truck, parked in front without turning off the truck's engine or sound system. He came in. Gloria and I were taking, but he interrupted. I let Gloria handle the tortilla sales. I thanked her for breakfast and said, "Muy saborosa, (very flavorful)," and left in a hurry to see the mission church.

The church was adorned with wonderful, iconographic sculptures. I took photos but kept an eye on the time. Then I walked quickly to the terminal, and when I reached into my pocket to pay for my ticket, I realized I had just stiffed Gloria.

I imagined my bill taped to the cash register for all tourists to see, "This gringo left without paying."

Luckily, a taxi was at hand. I had 5 minutes. I said to the clerk at the bus counter, "Please don't let the bus leave without me." The taxi driver thought it was funny. He drove straight to Gloria's. She was all smiles. I paid for breakfast and rushed back.

Two minutes later the bus pulled in. I hopped aboard.

The next 2 missions, Jalpan and Landa were easy stops along the way. Tilaco and Tancoyol, somewhat remote, but easy taxi rides, were well worth the economical fare.

I was concerned after a final side trip to Tancoyol when the taxi driver left me on a barren stretch of the main highway to catch the next bus and a rainsquall arrived with raindrops the size of nickels. I tried to find shelter under a tree, but it soon turned into a shower when the tree's canopy only broke the large raindrops into smaller ones. But, just as I could feel my Timberline water repellent jacket no longer repelled and panic was setting in, I spotted two headlights in the rain, hailed the bus and rode in dry comfort to Xilitla.

August mornings are grand in Mexico, but afternoon showers can strike quickly with a ferocious, tropical downpour.

I checked into El Castillo, once the private home of Edward James, now a unique Bed and Breakfast with swimming pool and art treasures.

Expenses:

Buses: $9, Taxis: $27, Meals: $12, Hotel: $60, Total: $108

Day 17: Xilitla: Edward James' Dream Castle and Garden: El Castillo and Las Pozas

Sleeping Beauty would have been wide-awake in Edward James' Castle, unless she felt no need for privacy. You are a guest in a home, not a hotel, and my bedroom, on the first floor, was designed for flow through ventilation, with a ceiling fan wafting a light breeze pleasantly during the night. Windows opened to the hallways. But as a guest, among strangers, I felt the need to close the windows as I lay in bed reading. This interfered with the circulation and the room became humid and warm. Of course, I then felt the need for even less covering and more privacy.

But El Castillo is still a pleasure. Edward James placed his artistic imprint on his home. It is a treasure. Guests are free to wander this multistory fantasy structure and to photograph the inspiring views of Xilitla and the lush terrain where the principal crop is coffee. There is a swimming pool and a very large family reading room that runs the full length of the building. It's currently used as the guests' dining room.

A recent addition is the Edward James Museum. There is a photo history of James, but the most interesting items are the hand carved moulds used in the construction of James' surrealistic garden Las Pozas.

Saturday morning I walked this hill town. Gray mist, humid banks of smoke-like fog enveloped the valley with a Shangri-la impression of lost time and mystery. Vendors were taking over the plaza and side streets, with stalls and canopies to shelter buyers and merchandise. Breakfast in El Castillo was at 8.30 a.m. I felt like James or a member of his family starting a day in Xilitla, casually, with the sun lighting the steep walled valley dappled with fog.

I came to see Edward James's Las Pozas, a garden in the jungle, an inspired concrete surreal fantasy that makes you think of Salvador Dalí in 3-dimensions.

Las Pozas (The Pools) opened at 9 a.m. I walked the mile downhill from El Castillo to Las Pozas and arrived at 9:30 a.m. This magnificent concrete surrealistic garden constructed in the heart of nature's garden attracted young couples, travelers in love. Las Pozas covers acres, and you can see only a glimpse at a time. Workers are constantly cutting back vines and plants. Trails wind up the mountainside and you can hear waterfalls before you find them. Swimmers enjoy the pool under a large fall.

But it's James' imagination, which created the trails and ornamental concrete-flowers and snakes and bridges and archways and oval entrances and multilevel spiral stairways framed by fantasy columns and concrete bamboo fences that make Las Pozas a rich reward for the artist and a pleasure for all visitors.

Among waterfalls and pools, James created 36 structures on 80 acres in his private jungle garden. They appear animated by Gaudí's architectural vision and Dalí's dreams. There are Gothic arches, parabolic entryways, and columns erupting into blossoms. James added stairways and bridges that M.C. Escher might have envisioned.

Only in Mexico could one walk through this fantasy garden within nature's garden. Handrails were nonexistent. A spiral staircase led up to an overlook, a platform above an arch 6 stories high. I creep up, hugging the support column, but vertigo halted me.

I returned to earth. I took photos realizing the truth that "One picture is worth 1000 words." I walked through Las Pozas quietly savoring the aesthetic flow like a practitioner of feng shui in harmony with chi.

My only regret was that the sun was never quite right for the best of photos and the sky was pale-bright, too light for a contrasting blue against the silhouetted inspirations James created.

Ah... I must return again.

At noon I looked at my map for the Corredor de Minas (Corridor of Mines), which, like the corridor of missions would take me through another remote, steep-valley sierra. Four mining towns were possibly on the agenda, but for most of the day I'd be catching buses and making multiple transfers.

At 12:30 p.m., hot and sweating, I caught a wonderful, air-conditioned bus for La Y Griega. Step-by-step, bus-by-bus, I connected the dots from town to town in the sierra. The towns were generally small roadside commercial centers for farmers and ranchers. At no time did I wait longer than 15 minutes for a connection. On most routes, Mexico's bus system is efficient and economical. I trust to blind luck and have not yet been disrupted in my travels.

From La Y Griega to Tomechtla to Huejutla to Zacualtipan I rode the bus in comfort with pleasure.

The bus gave me a picture window view of the sierra, its jungle, prehistoric flora, ferns, vines, brush and bush, trees, deciduous and pine, few flowers, maybe due to a predominance of shade. Our route, a narrow road, was cut into steep cliffs. Yet, among this natural beauty, there was subsistence farming and cornfields. Tall green stalks were growing, generally not terraced, on 60-degree inclines.

In the valleys, along the road, wood workers displayed their merchandise: chairs, rocking horses, tables, bureaus, dinning room sets, coffee tables, all sparkling, polished and varnished to a high luster.

Early evening, I reached the roadside bus stop at Zacualtipan. I took a taxi to town, a large commercial and textile town. I checked into the Palacios Hotel and ate a light supper in their restaurant.

There was a party in the hotel. The guest of honor was celebrating his 75th birthday with friends and family and 3 mariachi bands. As soon as one band left another arrived. I listened for a while then took a walk to the main square. It was traditional, attractive, but mainly a commercial center.

Next morning I would visit mining towns. There was no need for an alarm clock. The rooster next to my hotel room was the Glen Miller King of Kikirikis (cock-a-doodle-doos). I think the rooster had perfect pitch; his cry was nearly a delight.

Expenses: Buses: $12, Taxi: $4, Meals: $21, Hotel: $24, Total: $61.

Day 18: Sierra Gorda: Mining Towns and Pachuca

I woke up early, too early for breakfast, and repeated my walk of last night in Zacualtipan. All was quiet, streets vacant, stalls in the plaza were closed, but I was in two worlds.

There is a world of supermarkets and farmers markets, modern and traditional.

Patented medicines, and herbs for making a tea for just about anything that ails you were sold in the plaza. Doctors' clinics offered ultrasound and computer analysis. New homes, broadcasting conspicuous consumption, stood across from corrugated, tin roofed shacks, which were decorated with geraniums flowers in pots lovingly cared for.

I caught an 8 a.m. bus; breakfast would be in Real del Monte, an old mining town. Looking out the bus window, I felt like I was viewing the background for the original stop-action King Kong movie. Driving the Sierra Gorda Corridor of Mining Towns, you are surrounded by a sense of the forgotten world, a primeval forest. Peering through the bus window, plants seemed like a picture book of pop-up cutouts.

There were two former mining towns along the main route Zucualtipan-Pachuca that I wanted to visit, Real del Monte, and El Chico, now a biosphere reserve, in fact the oldest in Mexico, established in 1892 by President Porfirio Diaz.

Real del Monte is famous for pastes, originally a miner's meal of meat and potatoes baked in pastry, like a turnover. Pastes are now filled with just about anything, and even the fruit filled are called pastes instead of turnovers.

The bus let me off at the roadside and I walked down hill about a half mile to Real del Monte.

Real del Monte is a Hollywood Movie Set in layout, colors, arches, hills, plaza, church and beauty. The premier paste restaurant is under the arches. I ordered the traditional meat and potatoes, plus an apple turnover and coffee. Delicious, I was stuffed for breakfast.

Silver shops, tourist wares, restaurants and a photographer's paradise are the attractions. There is a mining tour and a double-decked faux English bus for the city tour. The bus is stubby-short to navigate the steep hills and tight corners.

El Chico, the second town, with a history of silver mining, was a taxicab drive into the pine forest, which President Diaz was wise to set aside. This ecological preserve attracts family vacationers. The town is a small gem, only a few blocks in size, located on a mountain slope.

From El Chico I caught the collective taxi for Pachuca, the capital of Hidalgo State. Pachuca is a large city with a touch of colonial architecture. The collective let me off just a few blocks from the city center and symbol of Pachuca, a towering monumental clock, made by the same manufacturer as London's Big Ben in the late 1800s.

Near the clock and bell tower, a lady sitting under a red-blue-yellow umbrella for shade was selling City Tours. I was just in time, but the man in front of me bought the last 4 tickets. I told the young lady, "I'd like to take this tour and I'm willing to stand." She called to Laura, the tour guide. Laura said, "Would you mind sitting up front with me where the guide sits?" Laura would sit between the driver and myself. I saw Pachuca in an hour. I don't think I missed a thing.

Tlaxcala, the city that allied with Cortes to defeat the Aztecs, was next on my agenda.

Expenses: Bus and shared taxis: $15, Meals: $9, Hotel: $30, City Tour: Pachuca $4. Total: $58.

Day 19: Tlaxcala: Allies of Cortes

History books imply that Cortes defeated the Aztecs due to superior armor, horses, guns and the belief that Cortes was the returning god, Quetzalcoatl. The question of "deity" was quickly dismissed. He had horses, 16 and 2 of these were killed in the first battle, and he led an army of 400 men. He conquered Mexico City, a city of a quarter million, and dominated a land inhabited by over 15 million people. But it was his strategic alliance with the Tlaxcala Indians that enabled Cortes to proceed and conquer. Thousands of Tlaxcalans supported Cortes against the Aztecs and wept when he returned to Spain.

If it were not for Tlaxcala, the conquistador of Mexico might have not been named Cortes. Tlaxcalans allied with Cortes against the Aztecs. The Tlaxcalans were the most important, loyal and faithful allies of the Spanish. I doubt without their army, the bears of logistics, that Cortes could have vanquished the Aztecs in 1521.

I wanted to see this land where Cortes fought and won the loyalty of the Tlaxcalans.

Tlaxcala is the oldest colonial town in Mexico. The government seat was founded in 1524. It is considered the Cradle of a New Race, the Mestizo, the union of the Spanish with the indigenous.

I arrived a little after 9 a.m. The bus driver let me off on the outskirts and pointed out where to catch a collective taxi, a combi. I scarcely got off the bus and blinked when the combi picked me up and within minutes I was in the center of Tlaxcala at the Tourist Information booth.

I stayed at Hotel Posada San Francisco on the main square that was once a private mansion. This 19th century building has been lovingly restored. It's the place to stay with a fine restaurant, an inner patio, a bar decorated in grand style, and a beautiful, clean, inviting pool just a few feet from my room.

Tlaxcala remains a colonial jewel in the mountains. A fountain donated by a Spanish King is the off-center piece in its plaza. Unlike many Mexican plazas surrounded by arched portals, outdoor dining is encouraged. Two coffee shops also pleased me as I often wish for a casual place to sit and contemplate when in Mexico and find very few.

I picked up a city map. There were 22 sites, museums, churches, and historic buildings to see. Most of the interesting places in a colonial town are near the original center and the tourist, with map in hand, can walk and visit at his own pace. During the day I visited 18 of the 22.

I pushed on the door of the Museum of Memory. The door was open but the museum, I was quickly told, was closed. Of the 4 museums, only Tlaxcala's Regional Museum was open.

Walking the streets of Tlaxcala, I followed the paths of history. Vivid, radiantly vibrant murals by the artist Desiderio Hernandez Xochitiootzin outlined Tlaxcala's history in the Palacio Municipal. I huffed and puffed my way uphill to the Santuario de Ocotlán, a wedding-cake-white, spectacular baroque church honoring the Virgin. It has been the site of pilgrimage since 1541 when the Virgin appeared here. And I stopped at the Capilla de Pocito de Agua (Chapel of Small Well) where the water is considered sacred and miraculous.

The Antigua Casa de Piedra (Ancient House of Stone), once a private mansion, is now Hotel San Francisco, a fine luxury hotel.

The Capilla de San Francisco (Chapel of St. Francis), part of one of the earliest monasteries, housed the original stone baptismal basin where Four Tlaxcalan Chiefs were baptized upon conversion to Christianity.

Tlaxcala honors the Chiefs and also Xicotencatl, who tried to rouse his people against the Spaniards.

Expenses: Bus and taxis: $6, Meals: $30, Hotel $75, Laundry $7, Total: $116.

Next stop: Puebla, the City of Tiles. Less than two hours away, Puebla was only a $5 bus ride from Tlaxcala.

Day 20: Puebla and Popotillo

Puebla: Mexico's 4th largest city claims to have been inspired by angels. Truly, Puebla abounds with architectural masterpieces and beauty is commonplace. It is an outdoor art show. I gawk, look up and around, and I seem to be alone in my astonishment. The map tells me there are over 1200 colonial and architecturally splendid buildings, tiled and decorated, located in the center of Puebla. Pedestrians look straight ahead and go about their business. But my senses are dazzled.

Puebla is the home of mole, the tasty specialty at Fonda de Santa Clara, and the China Poblana, the traditional outfit Mexican waitresses often wear. Mole (sauce) is a concoction of chocolate and chile, spicy not sweet. It's a brown sauce generally served on turkey or chicken, and it is considered Mexico's national dish. The China Poblana, the scooped neck, bare-shouldered blouse, with a flouncy skirt, is the national costume, counterpart in Mexican films to the silver spangled charro outfit.

Puebla's colonial center, founded in 1531, designed and built on a grid, is flat and easy on the legs, ideal for walking. It has the flavor of a European city. But I favor lounging under the arches, reading a newspaper, sipping coffee, and enjoying the view of the plaza. I listen to the bullhorn demonstrators protesting a grievance at the Volkswagen plant, yet I come away with the feeling that Puebla is a city of tranquility.

A Personal Quest:

Years ago I purchased a "painting" made of broom straw in Guanajuato. I call it a painting because that's what it looks like, but up close you see that it's really a mosaic of colored, dyed straw. The artist said, "I'm from Puebla. It's a family tradition and we're about the only artists to use dyed broom straw."

So here I am in Puebla trying to explain the artwork I'm looking for and I get blank stares. I'm fumbling in Spanish. I explain simply but people think I'm interested in a broom or straw. I just confuse everyone.

I speak with Ruben Ibarra, the afternoon clerk at the hotel, and I ask him, "Is there a family in Puebla, artists who use broom straw? I'd like to find them." Ruben, is 36, has a degree from Universidad de Las Americas in Hotel Management and the personality of a host.

"You mean popodillo?" he asks. "There's a lady who makes them at the Casa del Artesano. And there is a shop," and he starts to flip through the telephone directory.

Shortly, he's on the phone telling me that Mary Capilla is the artist at Casa del Artesano but it's after 6 p.m. and she's gone home. Next, he's talking to Amabilia Meneses who owns a small store. She sells popodillo, embroidered dresses, costume jewelry, wooden toys and folk art, a variety of handmade items. Her shop is closed. She's at home now, but she tells Ruben that she'd be happy to show us her merchandise if we would like to come to her house.

Ruben calls for a taxi and gives the driver a note with her complete address: neighborhood, street, name of her building and apartment number, plus her telephone number in case we get lost.

The taxi took me into the backside of Puebla. Amabilia lived in a crowded working section of town. The taxi driver found the neighborhood and the street but couldn't locate the address or the building. He stopped and asked. He was directed north into a dead-end street. It was great to know I'm not the only one who gets lost in Mexico.

We turned around and asked again. We were pointed in the right direction but we couldn't find a single number. The driver stopped at a small grocery and asked. The grocer came out and pointed to a cluster of buildings. We were close, but still lost. Nearby a cluster of teenagers was playing basketball. The taxi driver stopped again and asked. One of the boys ran ahead and pointed toward our destination.

As the taxi rolled to a halt, Amabilia opened her door. She was waiting for us. She lived up to her name, "Amiable." She was short, squatty and wore one of the embroidered dresses that her shop sold. It was loose fitting with a very colorful green-amber flower design. Her living room was arranged for us. Wooden toys, bobble-head-bobble-winged turkeys, a variety of children's dresses brightly embroidered, some charm bracelets, and at least a dozen soft dolls looking like Raggedy Ann with straw blond hair were arranged on chairs, a coffee table, and they covered the sofa. The dolls were the only blonds in Puebla. But there were no popodillos and that's what I had come for.

Amabilia said that she had popodillos, just a couple, in her shop, but she wanted to show us all her merchandise and maybe we'd like something. This nice lady then gave me a bobble-head-bobble-winged turkey. It was the last item I would have ever considered buying from her inventory. But I accepted.

Amabilia sparkled. She wrapped up the turkey and called for her daughter to bring a plastic bag from the kitchen. She showed off her wares. Mary Kay could learn a lot from Amabilia. We were at a Tupperware Party without plastic. And of course one cannot accept a gift in these circumstances without making a purchase.

So as I unwrapped my gifts when I arrived back home, there were two soft dolls with blond hair made in Mexico for my granddaughters. And on my shelf I placed a treasure, a bobble-head-bobble-winged turkey. As a gift, it somehow became precious.

Expenses: Bus-Taxi: $6, hotel $60, meals $18. Total: $84.