OFF TO OAXACA

One advantage of rising in the dark is that I was about the first to shower in the whole hotel.  Not much of a shower, but at least I got wet this time.  Everyone was assembled on time and taxis arrived to transport us to the bus station which seemed more on the lines of a small airport than any bus station I’ve been to in the UK.  There was even a security gate to pass through and a man with a metal detector device that was waved perfunctorily over each passenger as they passed through.  It can’t have been switched on as my bag and pockets contained enough metal to manufacture a small arsenal.  Each bag was stowed in the luggage case and a ticket issued to reclaim it.  By small miracle mine contained virtually all my stuff, including this computer. 

The seats proved comfortable and seemed broader than the norm in British coaches but as the journey progressed, the toilet became progressively more disgusting.  Doubtless this is why UK drivers discourage passengers from using them.

Of the journey there is not much to report, mainly because I had an inside seat and the cloud was very low.  There were a lot of mountains and the road clung to the side of a deep ravine for a lot of the way but cloud and rain obscured the view.  It looked pretty arid for much of the way and there were certainly a lot of cactus plants.  At one point the cloud lifted and the view out reminded me of the Blue Mountains in Australia; a similar blend of orange, greens and blues.  There was clear evidence of tectonic activity as many of the rock layers were folded and contorted.

Our hotel, Casa Arnel was on a side street some way from the centre but still within comfortable walking distance. 

Built around a flourishing vegetated courtyard it is a charming place with a terrace outside for eating and a sun terrace above.  The rooms are small but comfortable, most of us got singles this time but the delivery of water seems distinctly idiosyncratic.  Some claim to have had warm showers but the majority are still waiting for such pleasure.  Baggage stowed we walked to the Zocalo, past another cathedral and bustling streets to the market where lunch was enjoyed. 

I had Tlayudu, Oaxacan pizza as I later found out which consisted of a piece of pork, a piece of beef and some choritzo in a sauce with lettuce on a crispy tortilla base. 

It was delicious. All the time we were eating street traders tried to sell us stuff but they did leave when told “No.”  

We were even targeted by a musician playing guitar, who knocked out a couple of Beatles numbers on the pan pipes before asking for a contribution to his funds.

We were then free to explore on foot before returning to freshen up for dinner, which is when many of us found out about the showers.  There is a theory that Mauricio returned first and captured most of the hot water!  Dinner was taken at a place in town where Wednesday was ‘two for the price of one’ night.  This translated into two cocktails for £2 and beers at 50p each.  A lively party was going on upstairs and we stayed for quite a while!  Even when the bill came the deal was “Pay what we ask and everyone gets a free drink”.  We paid.  The waitress, who had worked very hard, must have been pleased with her tip.  Tired, and somewhat under the influence of alcohol, most of us made it to bed after midnight.