TUXPAN
* Returning Home. *

Though I was scheduled to stay in Tuxpan for another week I received an e-mail and had to rush home to do some photography for an article about the Christmas lights in Stanley Park. (see Xmas `00)

I had a busy day rushing about trying to get my laundry done. I had dropped it off first thing in the morning and was told it wouldn't be ready until seven the next evening. I couldn't understand why it would take 30 hours when a week earlier the other laundromat only required three hours. I went back to the laundromat and tried to ask the girl but there was a big language barrier so I went back to my room and got my dictionary.

With her looking up Spanish words and me looking up English words I finally arranged to have my laundry ready by five that evening. Somewhere in the conversation she pointed out the word `querido', `beloved'. I looked at her and asked, "You love me?" She read it again and blushed, hiding her face beneath her arms.

After gathering her composure, back in the dictionario, she found the word `quiera', trying to say, "Anytime after 5."

Bumping into my friend Grant, I wandered the town with him and stopped in at the bus depot to secure my ticket and to confirm my departure time of 7:10 PM.

Then I stopped by the hardware store to say goodbye to Grant's sister in law, Martha, whom I had met at a family party on Saturday night. I had taken many pictures of the family and wished to sent them copies as Christmas gifts and I needed her to tell me how to spell their names.

It was very difficult trying to communicate with Martha as she, like most people in Tuxpan, speaks little or no English. Luckily her employer spoke a little and I was able to get the names of all her nieces and nephews.

A quick stop at the Laundromat to pick up my still damp laundry. The laundry was hanging on a line in the back yard, which explains why it should have taken thirty hours for the process.

I asked the clerk if she still loved me, "Quireda?' and she started blushing again.

Back to my room to pack. After a hasty supper of bisteck (beef sliced thinner than steak and grilled like steak) and enchiladas, the closest you will get to a steak dinner in Tuxpan, I headed for the bus.

As I passed the Laundromat I popped my head in the door and said,"Adios". Startled, the clerk jumped. I pointed at my back pack made a flying motion with my hand, said, "Aeroplano, Canada, adios". She looked sad as she waved at me.

The Mercedes Benz bus was supposed to leave at 7:10 but didn't arrive until 7:30. It loaded and left within 5 minutes and went to a tire shop.

This was an outdoor shop that Grant and I had talked about while driving by it earlier that day. It is basically a roof on poles with a minimum of equipment. The tires are dismantled, patched, and remounted by hand. The fairly large, unpaved, yard sloped down from the street and we had to back up hill into major traffic after the tire was fixed.

When I got on the bus there was a movie playing and when it was over they didn't play a second one though there was another ten hours before we reached Reynoza. There were few passengers and I had both seats to myself.

Going into Tampico we crossed a large modern bridge. Along the streets I saw many familiar names; Wal-mart; Burger King; Pizza Hut; Church's Chicken; Caterpillar; Bandag; and Mercedes Benz.

Our only passenger stops were both in Tampico. The first, at 11:30, after traveling about 200 Km. was in downtown. Here everyone had to disembark and go into the terminal. They took the bus away and washed the outside of the bus but they didn't clean the smell out of the inside.

The bus, or at least my area of it smelled of urine and it was not a pleasant trip.

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Tampico is a major bus terminal with large modern facilities and lots of busses arriving and departing.

Only about half of the passengers reloaded when we were leaving Tampico. A couple of new passengers boarded. On the outskirts of this large metropolis we stopped at a smaller bus stop and picked up one passenger, leaving us less than half full.

At each bus stop each bus has a security guard during loading. With a wand, he gives every boarding passenger a quick scan for metal objects.

Washing the bus in Tampico was a waste of time. Within half an hour the windshield was all dirty again as we continued on in the insistent rain.

Just North of Tampico near Altamira the army had a road block. Immigration officials boarded the bus and inspected each passenger's papers. Agricultural inspectors climbed into the cargo bay and, after a search, removed two or three cases of fruit.

Just North of Ciudad Victoria we encountered another road block. The officers took a quick look in the cargo bay and had a talk with the driver but didn't come on board.

The speed limit along most of this narrow, two lane, shoulderless, highway is 100 Km. and the busses make the most of it. Scattered along the way, there are individual homes, or groups of two or three houses, one of which will always be a cantina with a sign advertising beer. In these areas the speed limit reduces to 60 or 40 Km. but the traffic doesn't slow.

At Las Norias, another road block. An inspector came on board and did a quick poke through the items in the overhead rack but didn't talk to any of the passengers.

Other inspectors crawled into the storage bay. They took out a cardboard box that was secured with two banding straps and spend quite some time trying to pry their way through the thick cardboard without cutting the metal straps. Finally they ripped a small hole in the lid and satisfied themselves as to the contents.

The bus then moved ahead a few feet where the driver got out and joined some men standing around a car that had a refreshment container sitting on the trunk. While the driver was given a drink, an inspector came aboard, checked the passenger list, then walked the isle doing a head count.

About a half hour south of Reynoza, on highway 97, another immigration check. The officer came aboard and asked to see our identities.

Hwy. 97 is much like roads in Northern Alberta. It is fairly straight, level, with wide shoulders. Like drivers in Alberta, they drive on the shoulders at high speeds while other traffic vies with each other to drive down the center, straddling the center line.

I don't know how many people get killed doing this but I can't count the number of accidents I have seen as a result of people disobeying the law and driving on the shoulders.

In Reynoza all the passengers got off but me and I asked the driver about McAllen as I had paid for straight through. He told me to wait. Awhile later another drive came, escorted me to a different bus, and told me to wait.

After awhile another driver came. I was the only passenger as we went across the bridge, through the morning rush hour, to the American customs. After a quick check of my id and a brief questioning I passed through and reloaded onto the bus which had also gone through a quick inspection.

The bus driver made light of the line up of traffic at the border crossing. he makes the crossing four or five times a day and often sees the traffic backed up across the bridge and into the downtown Reynoza. He asked me where I was going. I told him I should check in at the airport. That's where he dropped me off.

At the airport I arranged for a flight for the next day as I had missed Tuesdays flight by about an hour. Which is what I expected. I was happy to get a seat for the next day as my ticket was for the following Monday.

Talking to a couple of cab drivers I was convinced that the cheap motel the airline ticket person suggested was cheap because it was cheap. They recommended Motel 6 which was twice as much money and about twice as far away. For the $7 taxi fare I thought I would follow there advice.

Motel 6 is at the junction of 10th St. and the Main freeway (Hwy. 83). It is in a cluster of motels that all advertise rates starting at (US) $39.99 plus tax.

I got a nice clean room with cable TV (12 channels). They had an outdoor pool, however, the weather was not warm enough for swimming. It was partly cloudy and breezy. So I crawled into a bath and had a long deserved soak.

From the motel it was a short walk to the main shopping area and I explored a couple of pawnshops. There seemed to be innumerable shops that specialize in gold: bracelets; earrings; necklaces; etc.

Typical of American towns, the streets are wide, the blocks are long, and the buildings are far apart, which makes it frustrating trying to walk anywhere. You seem to walk forever and never get anywhere. Finally I gave up and went back to a Chinese Smorgasbord that I had seen. 70 dishes for (US) $5.95. Not bad food and well worth the price.

The proprietress had been to Vancouver many times and was pleased to meet someone that could say hello in her language. (I don't speak other languages but I can say hello and good by in over twenty. It is a great way to make friends with foreigners.) After lunch I crawled into bed and caught up on some of the sleep I didn't get on the bus.

I don't find it difficult to sleep on busses but it is irritating to be woken by inspectors every time you are asleep.

Why they kept stopping us I don't know. It doesn't take a lot of intelligence to know that the bus has gone through an inspection shortly after having left the terminal and hasn't stopped anywhere since.

After my nap I walked under the freeway and explored a large mall. I found a cheap theatre that offered late run movies for US $1.00. However I had seen them all and walked to another Chinese Smorgasbord and had supper. After supper I went back to my room and watched TV for awhile but the channels didn't offer a very good selection so I read a pocket book that I had picked up earlier in the day.

On Wednesday morning I packed my bags and left the hotel. As I had seen the airport from the end of the mall, when I was browsing the night before, I decided I would save the taxi fare and walk. It was a much shorter walk than I had anticipated and I arrived at the airport much too early. The ticket counter wasn't open yet and I had to wait nearly an hour before I could check in. It was lucky I had stopped in the day before and changed my ticket as there were people waiting stand-by and I might not have gotten a seat.

We flew out of McAllen on an American Airlines F 100 which has 3 seats on one side and 2 seats on the other side of the isle. I had requested a window seat ahead of the wings so I could take pictures. We passed over San Antonio at 30 K Ft.

I sat beside a gentleman from McAllen who was in the security business and going to Dallas for a company conference. He pointed out different areas such as the King ranch and the house in Ft. Worth where his daughter lives.