2011 06 05

Journey to the Centre of Mexico, part one

We have touched down in Zamora de Hidalgo, Michoacan.  Finally.  Some of you may know how difficult it has been to get to this point, but here are some high-lights anyway.  Gary was forced to retire about the same week that the mortgage increased by 63 per cent.  $2000 mortgage payment from $800 cheque = the kind of financing that only Banks that are Too Big to Fail get away with, so there went the house.  This was an emotional blow and took some time to deal with.   As in three bloody years.  And it came to dirt at the end, as the former friends with whom Gary had been staying decided that it was time to plant a "cash crop" on the land we were infesting, and pulled some dirty tricks to get G moved out of their yard.  It worked to our advantage, as we actually got moved, but it was rude and unnecessary.  And the Vicious Asp Queen has succeeded once more in ending Princess K's friendship with someone not of her choosing.  And may it bring them both the joy they deserve.

So, after working without sleep for two days, we had the moving truck packed up and the help of a stranger who wandered by in the night and wanted to look at the stuff we were putting in the dumpster.  He turned out to be a real treasure, did Craig, and we are eternally grateful.  He helped pack and clean up and drove us 100 miles or so to the train station in Emeryville, which is sort of Oakland for those who don't know.  We had decided that we had to relax a bit before we got on a plane, and there is a train from somewhere up in Washington that runs down the coast to Los Angeles - The
Coast Starlighter.  It was a reasonable price, and we thought that 13 hours gently swaying to the rhythm of the rails would do the trick.

We eventually relaxed, but the bloody train station was a nightmare.  I had (still have)  a bad chest cold, and could hardly breathe and walk at the same time, and the train stops with the engine at the door from the station.  We were riding steerage, about a half-mile from the front of the train.  No porters.  Hot.  No breath.  Many bags.  I had to stop and gasp near one of the doors to a sleeper and the attendant at the doorway said:  why didn't you arrange ahead of time for baggage assistance?   She shut up after I looked at her and I limped the rest of the way to our car.  It was better in LA, they called ahead and arranged baggage help.  We got on the shuttle from Union Station to LAX, went through the bullshit with bags and 'security' and finally got on the plane and collapsed.  flight was okay, but by the time we got to Guadalajara, the cold had hit Gary and we were both miserable.  We don't have a lot of money, but the thought of several more hours in buses trying to get from GDL to Zamora was beyond us, so we splurged on a taxi.  We then spent two days in bed.

Thus endeth part one.  Pardon spelling mistakes, I'm sick and it's hot.

R