Map of Mexico





 

Location: Mexico

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Preamble to my South American Sojourn

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As it happened my 1978 six month solo sojourn across Canada in 1978 was just a prelude to a longer, and somewhat more exotic, trip.  In November of 1978, as the days and nights grew colder, it was clear that continuing to camp in Canada, as beautiful as Canada may be, was not going to be comfortable – or fun.  But the Canada trip had really just whetted my appetite for travel.  I’d started on the road to discovering Canada – and myself – but I wanted to keep going.  I’d decided to go to South America.   I was disappointed, but not surprised, at how little support I received from family and friends for this travel adventure.  Some were concerned for my safety.  I heard countless warnings of the lawlessness in Central and South America, the muggings and murders, and the duplicity and complicity of the police, who commonly extorted money from anyone they apprehended.  I was warned, repeatedly, of the risk of being m...
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Oaxaca December 17-20, 1978

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Mexico City was just a transit point - t he first place I landed on my South American journey.     In a way, I wasn’t truly there, more caught up in the novelty, strangeness and scariness of what I had embarked upon.     And preoccupied with thoughts of ‘now where’ and ‘how to get there’.     I’d heard good things about a quiet, paradisical beach town called Puerto Escondido, southeast of Mexico City.     The road there went through Oaxaca, a not-to-be-missed traditional market town.     With the rudiments of a plan in mind I ventured out, found the huge central bus station, and bought a ticket to Oaxaca.     It was an all-day bus ride to get there, and I wouldn’t have a pre-booked hotel, as I did in Mexico City, when I got there.     So now I felt my trip had actually begun.    Now I was truly traveling.   The bus ride to Oaxaca started out okay.  The bus itself was of course old and tired, a...
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Mexico City December 13-17, 1978

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Mexico City’s Metropol Hotel is a perfect reflection of the city itself.     What it lacks in glamour and amenities it makes up for in a riot of colours: purple wall-paper, red-rug, orange and yellow swirl-checkered curtains and bed-spreads (on twin beds), and ‘matching’ orange and yellow vinyl sofa and chairs.     Gay, but not restful.     But sleep in this city is well-nigh impossible in any event – there is a constant cacophony of car and truck engines and horns; it seems Mexicans prefer to use their horns instead of brakes, turn signals or waves.     And... there are so many cars.     The streets are choked with them, and I am choking on their fumes.     My nose, throat and eyes are constantly irritated by exhaust fumes, even in this room with all closed windows.     It’s so pervasive.   I’ve spent my first few days  here wandering around, taking in the sights and sounds of one of the largest, and d...
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