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Travels with Boyd and Susan
Our trek to Belize --- 2002

part three: The Rest of the Journey, Mexico and Beyond

     While in McAllen, we had one of those "Small World " experience that happen every now and then and always amaze us. We got into the town late in the afternoon and spent a lot of time trying to find a camper park. There are a ton of them there, but the trouble was that almost all of them are geared to long term residents. It has become a retirement community and snowbirds from up north leave their RVs and small house trailers there permanently, flying down in the winter months to occupy them. Our AAA guide to camping was worse than useless and had proved to have misinformation throughout the trip. Their information on McAllen was no better and they had all the parks listed as camping areas.
     We were getting tired of the hunt and had even gone to a firehouse for directions. By the time we got down town, the visitor center was closed so the firehouse was all we had. We ended up on a little street with about 4 or 5 RV parks, all the wrong kind and it was starting to get dark. In desperation, we pulled into one that had an office out front and went up to the door. The office was closed so Boyd went to the trailer next to it to see if we could get some advice. A really friendly fellow answered the door and asked where we were from. It turned out that he was the brother of one of Boyd's former coworkers at KPC, Bonnie Heimbuck! He helped us find the manager and found us a spot to camp in for a couple of nights. You just never know who you are going to run into 5000 miles from home!

     I want to take a moment to add here that while in Texas, we got word of the passing of one of our dearest friends in Alaska. David Forbes had died of a sudden heart attack. As many of you know he was a fellow professor at KPC and he and his family have been close friends of our family for more than 20 years. Dave was very active in community theatre and the arts in general, and we tromped a lot of boards together over the years. Dave and his wife Lorrene were the last folks to come by the house before we left. In fact, they helped us "strike the set" one last time as we did the final cleaning. David Forbes was much loved, and he will be greatly missed by our family and by everyone whose life he touched.

On with the Saga!

     On Tuesday, October 8th, we left the USA and passed into Mexico to the border town of Reysmosa, to drive along the coastal highways to where the Yucatan Peninsula begins. Then we would cut across to Chetamal on the Caribbean, where we would cross the border into Belize. We had gotten lots of information about Mexico. We sent away for camping books, we had an AAA map and in McAllen where we bought our Mexican car insurance at an outfit called Sanborn's, we picked up more maps, guidebooks and information. People all over had told us that we had to be very careful of bandits and that even the police were crooked and would demand money to let us pass. We found this information to be complete rot! None of it was true. No one in Mexico, official or not, EVER asked us for bribe money, and we never once were attacked by bandits, nor did we ever feel in any danger whatsoever. All the people were very friendly and kind, including the "federales".
     But we did have a problem due to lack of information. All the guidebooks including the books from Sanborn's who are acclaimed as THE authorities on Mexico, told us that our credit cards were good EVERYWHERE! When we got our paperwork done the day before entering Mexico, they accepted a credit card for the fee for admitting our vehicle, so we figured that our plastic would be good at the gas stations which are all government owned and operated. Additionally, we had been told so many horror stories about thieves that we decided not to carry much cash. We knew there were lots of tolls to pay, so we got $400 cashed into Pesos and planned on paying for everything else with plastic. BIG MISTAKE!
     We found that the Pemex (government) gas stations would not accept credit cards at all, and gas was around $3 per gallon. Pulling our camper trailer, we were getting about 11 miles to the gallon so we figured it was going to be very close. We had loaded up with gas in Texas and had only filled up once in Mexico that first day. That night at Tampico, with around 900 more miles in to go in Mexico and two more overnights, we counted our money and figured we could just make it if we bought nothing but gas and tolls. We had a stock of food and so we decided to plunge onward and to keep our fingers crossed in the hope that we wouldn't have any car trouble.
     At this point, it would have been nice if we had the information that we could go to any bank in Mexico and use their ATM machine with our American ATM card and get Mexican cash. After our experience with the gas stations, and toll booths not taking plastic, we just assumed that the only place it was good was upscale hotels, none of which were on our itinerary. If we had only known about the banks, I am sure our trip through Mexico would have been much more pleasant and leisurely. As it was, we were so worried about the gas and the toll money that we didn't really feel we could take extra time. We had to get through before we ran out of food and water stores! We were constantly counting money and checking the mileage. As a result, neither one of us ever thought to take one picture in Mexico! So you will just have to go look in a travel magazine to see all the picturesque farms and burros. Suffice to say that we saw plenty of them.
     We had spent the night in the Tampico Airport parking lot. One of our guidebooks said it was the only place in the area to camp other than a camper park which was now closed. The parking lot was like most lots in the states where you get a ticket from the booth on the way in and then pay on your way out. I asked the attendant in my broken Spanish how much to camp the night and she said 100 pesos (around 10 dollars). We cringed and said okay, we can maybe make it, but tomorrow has GOT to be cheaper. When we left in the morning, we found out what soon proved to be standard procedure throughout Mexico. Fees and tolls for vehicles are charged per AXLE. Since we had a tandem axle trailer,to get out of the parking lot, we had to pay not 100 pesos, but 200 pesos. That pretty much shot our whole allotment for camping fees, but there was no turning back now. We plunged onward.
      It was here in Tampico where we took a wrong turn. Tampico is the largest city on the gulf coast and a major metropolitan area. We decided to pay the toll for the bypass. What we didn't know was that the bypass was in two sections, going back into the city for a few blocks and then picking up again. Our maps were so very poor that we just didn't see that. Also, the Mexicans have a way of changing the numbers on their highways right in the middle of a stretch of road. You can be driving along on Mexico 180 and it can suddenly become Mexico 255 with no reason whatsoever. Or it can become three different roads all with the same number. You just have to know what towns are in the direction you are going and hope for the best. That was where our Sanborn maps really let us down. Most town names were not on them, so we had no way to know where we were going sometimes. As a result we got off the bypass too soon and ended up on a minor road going west. By the time we discovered our error we had gone about 60 miles on it. We then looked at the map and found a side road that would connect to the main highway south, but once again the map was wrong. It was marked as a major artery but turned out to be a pot hole ridden, barely paved nightmare. It took us until mid afternoon at an average speed of only 30 to 35 MPH to get back on the main road again. I then realized that we would not get into Vera Cruz (our planned layover) by nightfall. There is no way either one of us was going to drive in Mexico after dark.
     It was then that Boyd came up with a brilliant idea the ended up saving our financial butts. He had noticed that the Pemex stations all had large parking lots and that the truckers often parked and slept there. He suggested that we stop at the first one we saw after 5pm and ask them if we could stay the night. That evening we pulled into a very large Pemex about 75 miles or so from Vera Cruz and I again exercised some of my highs school Spanish. The gal pumping gas said of course we could stay! She pointed to a police guard who showed us just where we could park. He apparently was the official parker because he did the same with all the trucks that came later. The cost? Totally free! What a boon!
     We have decided that the Pemex stations are the best places in Mexico to spend the night, with or without a camper. All of them are connected with a police station which has an officer on duty all night long, walking around the trucks and parked vehicles. The pumps are open 24 hours a day and the attendants at night doze right in front of them under the guard's watchful eye. They get up when someone drives in for gas. Nothing could be more safe or secure. We slept with only our screen door closed as it was hot. While there is no plug in or water and sewer hookups, there is a little 7-11 type store and rest rooms at every one, and the larger ones all have showers and restaurants. Some even have sleeping rooms available for a fee. Sometimes they are a little noisy with traffic in and out, but things slow down at night on the highways. Even many truckers don't want to take their chances with the speed bumps and cows on the road in the dark.
     By first light we were up, had coffee, and were back on the road toward Villahermosa, our last planned layover. I was very careful with the roads after our experience in Tampico and I would stop right in the middle of a busy city street if I was unsure of the road. Boyd was a little skeptical about this method, but I found that road rage doesn't really exist in Mexico and other than a few honks, no one seemed upset. In Vera Cruz, there was no bypass due to construction we had to go straight through the city looking for our toll road. At one point I stopped a traffic cop who was giving a fellow a ticket and both the cop and the fellow were very friendly and helpful. They ended up drawing me a map to the road we needed.
     We were on toll roads all that day. They were very expensive due to our double charges, but not going on them would have added an extra day and a lot of extra gas to our trip. Also, the regular roads have a lot of tolls too. There is one on almost every bridge. They aren't as high as the toll road tolls but still, they add up at double cost, so we bit the bullet and paid. That night we camped in a very nice Pemex after passing through Villahermosa. We were about 375 miles from the border.
     Villahermosa was the prettiest town in Mexico that we saw. I would say it is a medium sized city and it seems to be rather well off with an obvious infrastructure that seemed much more stable than anything we had seen thus far. Mexico had surprised me in that it seemed to have so very much poverty. Many areas had children working in the fields instead of being in school. It was really sad to see everyone working so hard yet so poor. I have seen countries in Africa and the subcontinent of Asia that seemed to have more. Most of the towns and cities didn't even have proper sewage and many areas had no electricity. People were living in mud huts. The government owned Pemex stations were like islands of modernity evenly spaced throughout the vast poverty stricken countryside.
     The next morning we counted up our money and realized that it was going to be very close indeed. We had a full tank of gas, but only 300 pesos left and around $40 in American money. The road seemed to have an unusually large number of toll bridges. Our pesos were dwindling away. As we passed through a police checkpoint leaving the State of Tobasco, I asked the soldier there (who actually spoke some English) if we could give American dollars for gas. He assured us (in error as it turned out) that we would indeed be able to do that at the next gas station.
     Let's stop for a moment to discuss the checkpoints. Mexico is made up of States, much like the US only they seem to be smaller. At the border of every one, there is a checkpoint. Sometimes it is open and sometimes not. If not you can just pass through, If open, you must stop and show ID and be subjected to a possible inspection for anything from fire arms to fresh fruits. There have been so many horror stories written about these checkpoint and the people that man them that they have moved into the realm of legend. Because of that, this was the aspect of our trip that I had most feared, and it turned out to be the least of my concerns. Part of that may be due to the fact that I used the "Bill Butcher Method" of dealing with Mexican officialdom. Bill is a dear friend in Belize who owns the Aguada Hotel in the Cayo and he gone through Mexico several times without trouble. His method is simple: Never, under any circumstances, no matter how much Spanish you may know and no matter how smug you may be about your linguistic abilities, NEVER EVER speak even one word of Spanish to any official. Always be dumb. I repeat, ALWAYS be dumb.
      In Mexico, once you leave the first border town, almost no one speaks any English at all, unless you are at some tourist resort frequented by Americans. So when you come to a check point, they will tell you in Spanish to pull over or show your papers or whatever. What you do is immediately ask them if they speak English. DO NOT say "¿Habla Englais?" No Spanish, remember? Not even so much as a "Gracias". Say with a very pleasant smile, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish. Do you speak English?" They will say no, even if they do speak a few words and then they will repeat what they just said in Spanish to you only louder and faster, in the hope that your problem with Spanish is merely a hearing problem. Just act dumb, even if you understand. Eventually they will pantomime what they want you to do. Keep smiling and nodding and trying to understand. They will laugh and tell each other how stupid you are. By now, you are holding up traffic and they will either get discussed and wave you on without inspection, or they will only make a brief check. We never had anyone ask us for a bribe or take our stuff. If this really does happen in Mexico, it didn't happen to us because they probably figured we wouldn't understand anyway. One young soldier we thought was trying to buy a flashlight from us in broken English. We were all excited, hoping to pick up a little extra cash, but it turned out that he was just wondering what it had cost us. Too bad.
     So there we were, our last peso spent and gas was getting low. We pulled into a Pemex in the hope of trying to get gas for greenbacks, as we still had our $40. When I pulled into the station, the young man at the pump indicated that they had no gas. Apparently this can happen at any time and any place in Mexico. The distribution system is such that sometimes they figure wrong and are late getting gas out to stations in a region.
     I began to frantically ask the fellow in my broken Spanish if he would take my $20 and syphon a bit of gas for me from some vehicle parked there. I was having a hard time explaining when a truck driver came over and , in rapid Spanish, explained my request to the fellow.
     "You speak English," I said to the fellow and he smiled and said he was Belizean. It turned out he drives cargo between California and Belize on a regular basis and knew the road well. He also said that no one would take our American money hear because they wouldn't know what to do with it. He had some extra pesos though, and he sold us 200 pesos. But we still had no gas!
     "Can you make it 50 miles?" he asked. "If you can, there is another Pemex there." We weren't sure but we thought maybe we could. Our new friend said that the diesel was due into the gas station within the hour, and that he would watch for us along the way in case we didn't make it. With that we pressed onward.
     We made it to the next gas station about 2 miles after the one gallon light had come on and we were sighing a breath of relief only to find that this station too was out of gas. No one would sell us any from their cars. Not even a taxi driver. Crestfallen, we saw no option but to keep going. The border was 20 K away. It's funny how you always have the urge to drive faster when you are almost out of gas, in an effort to make it to safety as fast as you can. I had to force myself to stay at the maximum gas preserving speed of around 50 MPH.
     Somehow we made it to the boarder. I quickly turned off the car because I knew checking out of Mexico was going to be a big paperwork deal, but the fellow at the gate didn't like that. He wanted me out of the road, so he took our papers personally to the front of the line and we waves us through. Once at the Belize border we were just able to make it to the impound area before I heard the sputters begin. Fortunately we had a gas can and were able to find a guy who went into the free zone area and got it filled for us. But that cost us the 200 pesos plus 15 of our last 20 bucks. So there we were, in Belize with only 5 gallons of gas, over 150 miles to drive, and only 5 dollars in our pockets. Just the same, I wanted to kiss the ground!
      We drove into the little border town of Corazol, and found a pay phone. I called some friends in San Ignacio. (collect) and told them we were broke. After they got done laughing, they put another friend on the phone who knew someone in Carazol who would come meet us and give us enough money to get home. By now it was well after dark, but we didn't want to stop. We were so strung up from all the tension of the day that we wanted to keep driving. Not knowing the Northern Highway, I had to take it very slow, as the night was very dark and cloudy. Belizean speed bumps are even bigger than Mexican ones. But we ended up pulling in into our friend's place at around 11:30 pm, totally exhausted but very glad indeed to have made it to our new home.

      After a rest, Boyd and I visit some of our favorite spots around the Cayo. This district in the Maya Mountains is one of the most beautiful areas of Belize, although there are many other very beautiful areas, from the moist southern coast with it's giant Guanacaste trees, to Island Cayes with the barrier reef.


FRESH FRUITS AND VEGGIES ARE NEVER A PROBLEM AT THE SAN IGNACIO MARKET

      As I work on this page, a baby gecko comes out high on the wall in the evening. I hope he has enough bugs to eat so he will grow fat and live here a long time. A gecko in the house is good luck!
     Below are some of Boyd's bugs that he has been netting and photographing under the microscope. Also, one night Boyd and I went out with a flashlight and photographed some frogs. Do you think any of these ugly fellows could turn into a prince? Who is going to kiss them to find out!

    Our long trek is over, but Boyd says to watch for future articles about Belize AND Alaska as well as other areas in "Observations of a Naturalist".

   

--End

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