In San Cristobal new sounds and colors fill my senses. Xylophone music and drums. More colorful textiles. Clean crisp air. We spend a day exploring the market and sourcing a few items. It’s been a challenge for us to find fuel for our penny stove. Sometimes pharmacies have it, sometimes hardware stores have it. Once we even found it in a liquor store. We hear something about the government trying to stop pharmacies from selling alcohol puro. Maybe that’s part of our problem. In San Cristobal we find the good stuff in a paint store.
From town, the road winds up. I have no expectation anymore of flat ground. Everything is either up or down. I consider changing my gearing to a 1×10. I haven’t used the big ring in front in ages. Tyndall’s route delivers. He even finds a slice of double track with grass growing in the middle. This is the best kind.
Fuzzy burros munch green grass on the side on the road, horses and pigs too. The pigs are hairy, with long tails. They keep their heads down, and aren’t easily distracted from the food at hand. I wouldn’t mind some greenery in my diet, I think. Fruit abounds, but fresh greens are scarce. Maybe I should take a cue from the pigs.
Spanish is spoken here, but it’s heavily accented. Some speak a different language all together. I strain my ears to understand, but sometimes have to just smile and laugh. Usually they do too.
We make our way to the Lagos Montabellos and the end of Mexico. Greenery abounds and the lakes are a deep blue. It’s a good way to end our time in Mexico. One more plate of tacos, exit stamps in our passports and we make our way to the Guatemalan border. I could tell you we made a run for it, but that would be a lie. The border is at the top of a very steep hill. Slowly, we leave Mexico behind.
Where we went: San Cristobal – Chanal –
El Vergelito – Las Margaritas – Articulo 27 – El Naranjo – Tziscao – Carmen Xhan