This time, our third at this crossing, we found our way for the first time without getting lost! In fact we found ourselves at the border sooner than expected. Comes from making the correct turns!
We crossed into Mexico shortly before 9:00AM. As we approached the entry port, the signs sent cars and pickups to the left and trucks and buses to the right. Being bus size we went right, only to be flagged down and told that this was for commercial vehicles only! No room to turn around we had to unhook the car, back up and enter the "car" lanes that seemed very narrow to us. However we were directed to make a hard left and pulled up alongside the building.
Apparently all large vehicles are subject to a visual inspection. A young lady was to check the interior while a young man speaking excellent English took Art around the rig to check each storage compartment and the car. He was very professional and polite, checking everything.
In the motorhome, the agent stepped up the first few steps and met Trekker face to face. A quick glance around and "Oh! OK" and she was done!
We reconnected the car and were on our way by 9:10. Quite a painless crossing all things considered!
We had rechecked our memory of the route with the agent yet still missed a turn. This was our third time through this crossing! The problem was that the signs were very clear until we met a T junction, where there were none! Left or Right? We seemed to remember that the turn was to the right and moved on. Then there was another intersection with ambiguous signs, we went straight through and in a few hundred meters realised that we should have turned left. Fortunately there was room for a U turn and we were soon on the road to Saltillo.
We still had to find the main immigration stop some 50 kilometers away but were reasonably confident that we would find this with out difficulty. Somewhere along these roads we spotted an OXXO, sort of a Mexican 7 Eleven, that we were relatively sure would be able to renew our cell phone pay and talk accounts. We pulled in and Art went back with our two phones.
Up dating our phones was simplicity itself: Art told the cashier he wanted to buy time on his cell phone. As she turned to her till she asked which one, Art replied Telcel, she said how much, 200 pesos was the reply. Then she waited. Eventually the light went on and Art handed her a 200 peso note. Next she asked the phone number, entered it into the till and DONE, Art's cell phone beeped, the balance had been updated! Gillian's phone was done as quickly and we were soon on our way. The last time we had bought time on these phones was leaving Mexico in the spring!
45 minutes later we arrived at the main customs and immigration stop. Here we would get our tourist permits and temporary vehicle import permit for the car. The motorhome already had a 10 year permit from several years ago. RVs, trailers and boats qualify for a 10 year permit while cars and motorcycles can only get the 6 month (180 day) permit.
As we left, paperwork done, we were flagged into an inspection area where once again we were checked out--papers looked over, storage bins checked, all very professional and friendly, and sent on our way, the time now 11:25.
From here we began the long slow climb to the high plateau country. Long, straight seemingly flat country, then a short sharp climb over a mountain range, then repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
One of the interesting rules of the roads here is that when there is a dashed line marking the shoulder traffic can drive on the shoulder on each side of the road to allow overtaking traffic to pass down the middle of the highway.
The highway and railroad were frequently side by side. The whistle of trains was to be an ongoing part of our Mexico travels. Sometimes in the distance, sometimes very close at hand!
Not to worry, this train was stopped!
We have heard stories about the municipal police along this stretch harassing tourists and trying for "La Mordida", the little bite, in other words, a bribe. On our two previous trips through here we had had not trouble--third one's the charm as they say!
Entering the town of Nueva Rosita from the toll road Art noticed a police pickup truck pull in behind. It followed us for half a kilometer or so then pulled us over. Even understanding more Spanish than we let on, it took a while to figure out what their concern was. The officers felt that since we were towing the car we should have our emergency flashers operating!
With many gestures, minimising our use of Spanish, Art pointed to the map of North America on the side of the rig indicating the places we have been, including some 20 Mexican states, saying that we have never had a problem in more than 100,000 kilometers of driving in Canada, USA and Mexico with this setup. He also pointed out the professional tow bar, the electrical connection that operated brake and signal lights on the car and the auxiliary braking system. They mumbled to each other for a bit then left us to carry on.
A couple of hours later we pulled off the road for a very quick lunch stop then proceeded into the city of Monclova. Here we were again stopped. The officers here wanted to see the permits for the vehicles even though the accompanying decals were prominently displayed on the windshields. We produced them, the officers examining them closely. Then they wanted our permit to tow. We told them that we had never in the 7 previous years in Mexico ever heard of such a permit. They were insistent. Art again pointed to the map, letting just a little of his annoyance show, demonstrated the tow bar, lights and braking system, and showing the date and time of the vehicle permit and explaining that we had been inspected immediately after leaving the check point. By now they realised that they were not going to get anywhere here, and Art felt that it was over.
Then the female police officer asked for the dogs' vaccination papers! Art's annoyance a little more obvious, the papers, in English of course, were produced and perused closely. One of the officers pounced on a word he recognised--TIA, which means aunt in Spanish, and wanted to know what my aunt had to do with this and where was she? Art took the other paper from the other officer and pointed out the word TREKKER in the same location, and said "it's the dog's NAME, su NOMBRE!" They seemed to realise that if they proceeded further they would make fools of themselves and we were free to go.
We must point out however, at no time was a fine or "infracion" mentioned or even hinted at, no suggestion that a few pesos would make the problems go away.
We were back on the road a few minutes after two, through the city traffic with out incident. Two years ago there had been a lot of construction with overpasses which was now almost finished, making the drive though the city much easier and faster.
Following another two hours of highway much like before we were entering the outskirts of Saltillo and arrived at the Hotel Imperial Trailer Park at 5:10 PM, 20 minutes later than our arrival time of 2 years ago.
Art began the setup procedure by checking the available electric power. The first few outlets showed an open ground, the next (and also next best location for satellite TV reception) a hot-neutral reversal. The outlet next to that tested OK so he parked where he hoped for satellite reception and ran an extension cord to the good receptacle. The voltage was quite high, around 130V, and we later noticed that the power had been off once or twice while during our stay. The Xantrex inverter cuts the incoming power if it strays beyond the voltage and frequency parameters we have set.
When Gillian returned from the doggy walk everything was up and running. We had been promised WiFi in the lobby but hopefully switched on the laptop in the rig and we had internet! For a while. We just had time to read the e-mails and reply to two of them when it went off line. It was intermittent for most of our stay.
Three years ago, leaving a restaurant here in Saltillo we had noticed a Mexican couple admiring the dogs in our Chevy tracker. We approached and mutual introductions were made. Jesus noticed the “Victoria” on the license plate frame and said to his wife Marta “Victoria is the capital city of British Columbia.” We were astounded! Jesus explained that they had traveled through Victoria and BC's lower mainland while on a cruise to Alaska a few years before. We have maintained e-mail contact ever since.
Cell phones working, we phoned Jesus and Marta and made arrangements to meet for a breakfast next morning.
We watched the news from home, had a well earned drink, a wonderful home-made sweet and sour pork dinner and went to bed.
First chore in the morning, after a holding bowl of cereal and a cup of tea, was to clean dead bugs off the windshield—an ongoing obligation. While at it Art gave the front cap—both above and below the windshield-- a swipe and the dirt and bug debris came off easily. The energy put into the wax job a few days ago had paid off.
Jesus and Marta arrived just as Art finished the cleaning and took us to “Pour La France!” one of their favourite restaurants in the city. A French restaurant, it also served excellent traditional Mexican food. Gillian went with a quiche, Art with a traditional local dish of dried beef and scrambled eggs with peppers and onions. On our way out we paused for a group photo using the timer--third time it worked!
From there they took us to the highest point of the city to visit the small spring after which the city was named 450 years ago. A salto is a water fall, saltillo a little waterfall. Here on the hilltop was a spring (ojo de agua) which fell down the hillside. Click to read the plaque.
A large church has been built over the spring but the spring itself has been protected in a tiny crypt built under the church. Of interest is that the water from that small spring has been flowing for more than half a millenium and today is directed into the city water system.
Of even more interest on a physical or scientific front, is that the spring flows from the highest point of the city. The water must come from the surrounding mountains many miles away.
Here are a couple of high resolution telephoto shots taken from the top of the hill. Click to enlarge, don't forget to use the "<" at the top left of your screen to return to the blog.
As the best guide, to prevent us getting lost, Art had been riding with Jesus and Marta with Gillian. We continued this arrangement until we were safely back at the park. Jesus said he may drop by later and invited us to their home for lunch the next day.
Left to our own resources Gillian took the dogs for a walk then settled in for a read in the sun while Art claimed the couch for his nap.
Just after dark a van pulled into the park. Art went over to warn him about the unreliable power and check the outlet in the space he had pulled into. All was fine. Art also warned him about the occasional high voltage and invited him over for a drink once he got settled in.
Bob is from Ontario, on his way to Tierra del Fuego, the southern tip of South America! We had a great chat, offering a few ideas as we had been there (by air) some five years ago. There was a knock at the door—It was Jesus and Jesus--father and son. We passed a pleasant hour or so, looking at maps and suggested routes for us and for Bob.
They went their way, we had our dinner (grilled lamb chops Mmmmmmmmmmm!) watched some TV , happy to be here, and reflecting on serendipity.
During the afternoon and evening Art had been working on the blog but the wireless connection was not cooperating, dropping regularly. Actually it dropped irregularly, but frequently! He switched between writing about New Orleans on the blog page and writing these words on the word processor every time the internet went down! He finally gave up and went to bed.
The next day Jesus arrived to lead us to their home on the opposite side of town. Most of the route would be on the periferico (ring road) that we would need to take on our way south. We had used the periferico on previous trips, but a large section had been added at the end, where we would turn south and an equally large section in the middle was being rebuilt, which resulted in a long detour through city streets.
At the end of the new part of the periferico we turned right, crossed a large two way street and soon we were entering their community. This was a real maze. Jesus said that their friends almost always get lost when coming to visit. We probably could have followed their directions to the entrance to to their colonia but certainly needed the guide for the last several blocks!
We had a very pleasant afternoon with them in their beautiful home. We spent an hour or so chatting about our respective travels. We were called to the table and treated to wonderful typical Mexican meal where conversation continued, then again to the living room for coffee and desert. Our Spanish conversation skills were certainly getting a workout! They both speak English so the conversation switched back and forth. Unfortunately most of the photos came out blurred. He should have used the flash!
Soon Marta had to leave for a meeting in town, coincidentally near the hotel, so we followed her car for most of the way back. Left behind at a couple of traffic lights Marta pulled over to wait for us, though we were very soon in familiar territory and would have made out fine.
At one intersection the light began to flash as we approached so Art stopped ( as he was supposed to do) but we were jolted by a thump as the car behind rear ended the Tracker with the electric bike on its rack. Art got out to investigate, discovering one of the bike's pedals had disappeared into the grill of the car behind, and two terrified young girls in the car having visions of La Policia, jail and who knows what.
Art gestured to the young lady driving to back up slowly; the pedal tore out with a bit of screeching metal, apparently unharmed. A cursory inspection of the bike and the back of our car revealed no noticeable damage so telling the girls it was ok, he got back in the car and set off to find Martha halfway down the block waiting.
Without further incident we arrived back at the rig where Gillian took the dogs for a walk and Art poured himself a drink.
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