Wherever life takes us

About an hour and a half's drive from Mexico City, on the new motorway that cuts out slow windy roads threading their way through the mountains, lies Valle de Bravo. This small town and its surrounding area is a popular place to escape from the big city, the traffic and the murky air which we are so used to. For a while you feel like you are far away in the mountains, inhaling fresh air and taking in deep breaths of scented pine forests and getting your eye's fill of wide horizons. We decided to head out there one day mid-week, when the chilangos (residents of Mexico City) weren't milling around.

Valle de Bravo itself is a typical colonial-style town squatting on the mountainside above the lake. Red tiled-roofs, cobbled streets, a central square with shady trees and a kiosko in the centre, and a large Catholic church are some of its main features. It's one of Mexico's 62 Pueblos Mágicos or Magical Towns, a special status given to towns which are outstanding in one way or another, either because of the surrounding area or because of the historical and cultural treasures they contain. Thank goodness they changed its name. It was originally known as San Francisco del Valle de Temascaltepec, a real mouthful for anyone to say.

We literally whizzed down the motorway which now coughs you out almost into the town itself and arrived to find it totally empty of tourists. It wasn't dead though. The bustling local market was in full swing with some ladies in their local dress and stands piled high with vitamin-filled fruit and vegetables. It was fascinating to wander around watching vendors scraping the spines off the cactus to make them edible, locals buying their jitomates, jjicamas and mamey fruit and young mothers with their brood of kids hovering around them. One pick-up truck was almost invisible underneath a cargo of sweet-smelling pineapples. The streets, overlooked by wooden balconies, were chaotic with pedestrians and vehicles vying for right of way. It wasn't exactly quiet. But there was a rural feel to it which Mexico City lacks.

The best views of the lake can be seen from La Peña, or The Cliff. We asked at the local tourist information booth how long it would take to walk there. "Diez minuntos...!" Just ten minutes! It sounded reasonable so we set off, sweltering in the intense sunshine. Ten minutes later we weren't even out of the town, let alone near La Peña which we could see still in the distance. When we finally made it to the bottom, we asked how long it would take to walk up to the top, "Veinte minutes, más o menos!" Another 20 minutes? "Pues, si quiren ir en taxi, son 10 minutes." Taxi? Well now, that sounded good. We took the taxi as far up as we could, a steep ride along a one-way trail. Then came the walk up. A lady was at the gate. How long will it take to climb to the top? She told us about 15 minutes and asked us to sign a book. "Just in case." In case of what, we wondered? Was it a dangerous walk? "Mmmm, un poquito... Just a little, there are no railings. It's best not to go with small kids or if you're drunk!", she cheerfully informed us.

The views were spectacular, especially on a day like we had chosen. But the walk is definitely for those who don't get dizzy spells when looking down, or whose imaginations don't tend to run amok like mine. I declined to go up the very last part, to the very top, up those rocks.. with no railings, no nothing.. My mind was already seriously producing films of us slipping accidentally and tumbling down the rocky crags, plunging into the green water below, never to be seen again. The road down was steep. We chose to walk down rather than take another of those taxis. You never know.

By the time we got down to the bottom again, our tongues were stuck to the roofs of our mouths. It was time to find some refreshment which turned out to be no problem at all in the main square which was surrounded by eating places and restaurants. A cold Mexican beer, enchiladas suizas, quesadillas and a fresh salad did the job.

Then it was off for a walk down by the lakeside. Lake Avandaro was empty today. There were no sailing boats out at the moment but the weekends are usually a popular time for enjoying boating, sailing and water-skiing. Actually, the water didn't look particularly inviting along the shore and we certainly weren't tempted to go for a dip. Maybe in the middle of the lake it's cleaner. One or two hang-gliders could be seen drifting above us. Valle de Bravo is the venue for the World Hang-glinding Championships.

We returned to the car and chugged our way along the pine-clad mountainside, following the lakeside which appeared from time to time through the trees. Cycle tracks lined the road, as did luxurious mansions, holiday homes, and even a golf course. We were searching for the "Velo de Novia" waterfall. Eventually after asking directions, we came to a sign indicating that we were near. A 15-minute walk through tall pines and along the river took us to this beautiful natural area where the falls splash down high black volcanic rock cliffs. For those who like horse-riding, this is also an option here.

Evening crept up on us before we knew it. The light was fading as we headed back for Mexico City but we felt we had re-charged our batteries even if we'd only spent one day in the outdoors. The smell of pine trees lingered in the car for some time. That's the effect Valle de Bravo has on you.

About an hour and a half's drive from Mexico City, on the new motorway that cuts out slow windy roads threading their way through the mountains, lies Valle de Bravo. This small town and its surrounding area is a popular place to escape from the big city, the traffic and the murky air which we are so used to. For a while you feel like you are far away in the mountains, inhaling fresh air and taking in deep breaths of scented pine forests and getting your eye's fill of wide horizons. We decided to head out there one day mid-week, when the chilangos (residents of Mexico City) weren't milling around.

Valle de Bravo itself is a typical colonial-style town squatting on the mountainside above the lake. Red tiled-roofs, cobbled streets, a central square with shady trees and a kiosko in the centre, and a large Catholic church are some of its main features. It's one of Mexico's 62 Pueblos Mágicos or Magical Towns, a special status given to towns which are outstanding in one way or another, either because of the surrounding area or because of the historical and cultural treasures they contain. Thank goodness they changed its name. It was originally known as San Francisco del Valle de Temascaltepec, a real mouthful for anyone to say.

We literally whizzed down the motorway which now coughs you out almost into the town itself and arrived to find it totally empty of tourists. It wasn't dead though. The bustling local market was in full swing with some ladies in their local dress and stands piled high with vitamin-filled fruit and vegetables. It was fascinating to wander around watching vendors scraping the spines off the cactus to make them edible, locals buying their jitomates, jjicamas and mamey fruit and young mothers with their brood of kids hovering around them. One pick-up truck was almost invisible underneath a cargo of sweet-smelling pineapples. The streets, overlooked by wooden balconies, were chaotic with pedestrians and vehicles vying for right of way. It wasn't exactly quiet. But there was a rural feel to it which Mexico City lacks.

The best views of the lake can be seen from La Peña, or The Cliff. We asked at the local tourist information booth how long it would take to walk there. "Diez minuntos...!" Just ten minutes! It sounded reasonable so we set off, sweltering in the intense sunshine. Ten minutes later we weren't even out of the town, let alone near La Peña which we could see still in the distance. When we finally made it to the bottom, we asked how long it would take to walk up to the top, "Veinte minutes, más o menos!" Another 20 minutes? "Pues, si quiren ir en taxi, son 10 minutes." Taxi? Well now, that sounded good. We took the taxi as far up as we could, a steep ride along a one-way trail. Then came the walk up. A lady was at the gate. How long will it take to climb to the top? She told us about 15 minutes and asked us to sign a book. "Just in case." In case of what, we wondered? Was it a dangerous walk? "Mmmm, un poquito... Just a little, there are no railings. It's best not to go with small kids or if you're drunk!", she cheerfully informed us.

The views were spectacular, especially on a day like we had chosen. But the walk is definitely for those who don't get dizzy spells when looking down, or whose imaginations don't tend to run amok like mine. I declined to go up the very last part, to the very top, up those rocks.. with no railings, no nothing.. My mind was already seriously producing films of us slipping accidentally and tumbling down the rocky crags, plunging into the green water below, never to be seen again. The road down was steep. We chose to walk down rather than take another of those taxis. You never know.

By the time we got down to the bottom again, our tongues were stuck to the roofs of our mouths. It was time to find some refreshment which turned out to be no problem at all in the main square which was surrounded by eating places and restaurants. A cold Mexican beer, enchiladas suizas, quesadillas and a fresh salad did the job.

Then it was off for a walk down by the lakeside. Lake Avandaro was empty today. There were no sailing boats out at the moment but the weekends are usually a popular time for enjoying boating, sailing and water-skiing. Actually, the water didn't look particularly inviting along the shore and we certainly weren't tempted to go for a dip. Maybe in the middle of the lake it's cleaner. One or two hang-gliders could be seen drifting above us. Valle de Bravo is the venue for the World Hang-glinding Championships.

We returned to the car and chugged our way along the pine-clad mountainside, following the lakeside which appeared from time to time through the trees. Cycle tracks lined the road, as did luxurious mansions, holiday homes, and even a golf course. We were searching for the "Velo de Novia" waterfall. Eventually after asking directions, we came to a sign indicating that we were near. A 15-minute walk through tall pines and along the river took us to this beautiful natural area where the falls splash down high black volcanic rock cliffs. For those who like horse-riding, this is also an option here.

Evening crept up on us before we knew it. The light was fading as we headed back for Mexico City but we felt we had re-charged our batteries even if we'd only spent one day in the outdoors. The smell of pine trees lingered in the car for some time. That's the effect Valle de Bravo has on you.

Whenever I cycle up to the Basilica early on Sunday morning, I wonder what surprise awaits me today. Being Mexico's most important Catholic shrine, the Basílica de la Virgen de Guadalupe draws Mexicans from all over the country who journey here to fulfill promises, to pray and make petitions, and to attend mass. Devotion to the Virgen de Guadalupe is an unmistakeable thread woven into the very fabric of Mexican culture. A whole community may arrive together in trucks, buses or cars. They often come wearing their traditional dress to honor the Virgen with a specific dance, or music. So when I arrive here on my bicycle, I often find the plaza a colorful study in anthropology. Sometimes on specific dates, it is full of hundreds of cyclists who have made their pilgrimage on two wheels or, in the case of last Sunday, lots of music bands who had arrived with their musical instruments.

Last Sunday was a truly colorful, musical day to visit the Basilica... I'll let my photos speak for themselves.

The complex comprises of the Old Basilica with the red and yellow domes which was begun in 1695. However, over the centuries, because Mexico City is built on a former lake bed, the church began to sink and become dangerous so a new bigger basilica was built next to it and the old one was closed in 1976. The New Basilica is a stunning green circular building designed by Mexican architect Pedro Ramirez Vazquez. It has no pillars inside, providing a spacious area for the crowds of pilgrims who come to venerate the image of the Virgen. After carrying out restoration work on the Old Basilica, it was re-opened in 2000 but still continues to lean visibly. In this part of the complex you can also see the Bell Tower which shows the different ways people measure time... clock, sundial, Aztec calendar, astronomical calendar etc.

The distinct red and yellow domes of the Old Basilica

A close-up of the yellow domes

Reflection of both basilicas in the glass windows of the plaza

A band setting up their drums right outside the new Basilica

A group of cyclists arrive

People from all walks of life come here.... seen in the wide variety of footwear!

I have often seen the Aztec Indian dancers doing their syncretic dances in honor of the Virgen, or maybe to the goddess Tonantzin, who was worshipped at this very same site before the Spaniards arrived, bringing their Catholic faith to Mexico.

A group of dancers on the upper part of the plaza

They typically wear feather headdresses, and seed pods around their ankles which shake as they move

This time they were playing mandolin-type instruments

In contrast to them were the bands playing popular songs, some of them making enough noise to waken the whole city. They were moved from their very close position to the main temple where mass was being held and sent to the other end of the plaza.

A small boy is fascinated by the musicians

On the other side of the plaza was a group from Hidalgo, dressed in mariachi hats and sequined capes, along with their band. One of the ladies informed me that they had come to fulfill a promise made to the Virgen. They had arrived that morning, would do their dance and attend mass and then return home about 200 kms away.

Band members and mariachis

Nine-year old Miguel in his costume

His cape was decorated with thousands of sequins

Design on the cape

The group getting ready

Getting in order

Young girl

Last minute shuffling around

Off toward the New Basilica

Making lots of noise

Crowds near the New Basilica

There was so much to see and hear, with many more bands and dancers, thatI didn't even move from the plaza. But time had run out for me so I jumped on my bike again and cycled back down to the centre. That's the advantage of getting up early on Sunday morning. You see things that you wouldn't even imagine in your dreams if you stayed in bed.

Michoacán isn't the safest state in Mexico to travel around which is a pity because it has so many interesting places to visit. Natural phenomena like the amazing migration of the Monarch butterflies which flock to its high-altitude forests in the winter, lakes full of migrating birds, colonial cities such as Morelia, the culture of the purépecha people, the fishermen of Lake Patzcúaro with their butterfly-nets, beautiful beaches along the Pacific coast, a church buried in lava at Paricutín whose belltowers protrude from the black rock... these are just some of its many interesting cultural and and natural sites.

To get to Jalisco, however, we had to drive across the state of Michoacán or take a much longer way around via Queretaro and Guanajuato, adding lots of time and kilometres to our journey. We decided that the motorway would probably be safe. It is also a well-maintained route and frequent military patrols can be seen. For those who think that outside of the big cities, all of Mexico travels on donkeys or horses or old battered cars on bumpy roads, they need to see the motorways. Some of them are excellent.

We left Mexico City early in the morning with a beautiful sunrise turning all the clouds pink at their base and climbed out of the Valle de México on the Mexico-Toluca motorway. This road snakes over the pine-clad mountains up to a height of about 3000 m (10,000 ft) and then drops down into the Toluca Valley. Temperatures were freezing and thick fog hung stubbornly over certain parts of the road. Mexico's fourth highest mountain, the volcano Nevado de Toluca (4680m/15,354 ft), looked down on us from a distance, standing out in the clear morning air. The roads were empty and the weather was crisp as we drove through the Estado de México and then into Michoacán.

The volcano Nevado de Toluca

Low-lying mist in the Toluca Valley

Thick fog

Frosty fields

Heading in the direction of Morelia and Guadalajara

A factory along the way

Clear blue skies and mountains

A bank of fog along the motorway

Beautiful mountains

Crossing from the Estado de México into Michoacán

For once, we were glad to have a few cars as company... it's always best not to be completely unaccompanied along this stretch. At one point, we met a rather long convoy of military vehicles patrolling the motorway... on the other side. Then we spent a few hours driving, through areas of pine forests, open landscapes and shallow lakes. With my camera on its fast-shutter setting, I was able to freeze some of the scenes flashing past us.

Passing one of the few trucks along the way

The well-maintained road was very empty

Small house along the side of the motorway

Part of the military convoy

Passing Lake Cuitzeo, a large lake about 20 kms long

Fisherman in his boat out on the lake

Many migrating birds stop over at this lake. We saw egrets, herons and pelicans as we passed by

A farmer walking in his field

Rounded hills in the background

A line of cattle grazing on a thin strip of land jutting into a lake

We left the motorway at Zamora, and proceeded to make our way to Mazamitla. This area is called Tierra Calliente, the Hot Country, nothing to do with the temperatures but because it is well-known for its violent clashes between rival drug cartels in Michoacán and Jalisco. We hoped we wouldn't have any nasty surprises as we drove along the smaller roads passing through the towns and countryside. Stopping for a sandwich along a lonely stretch of the road, we decided to remain inside the car... just in case. You never know.

Pointed church spires at a small town near Zamora

This is strawberry country!

Wayside stall selling fruit and vegetables

Horse waiting by the side of the road

We passed lots of cemeteries and wayside shrines where people had obviously had accidents... way too many!

The church domes at Jiquilpan

Not long after, as we moved off again, we came round a corner and drove straight into a military roadblock. We had no warning, couldn't turn around and go back or anything. Obviously, that was the point of putting it there. My first thought was, "Oh no! I hope they really are the military and not just pretending to be."

A sour-faced soldier, with a weapon that looked liked it had seen service in Afghanistan, told us curtly to get out the car. He started searching everywhere, under the seats and car mats, fingering the trim all around the windows and checking behind the mirrors. Then he motioned to me to open our bags in the back. After rummaging around in one of them, his X-ray eyes obviously indicated to him that there was nothing of interest in any of the other bags. "Where are you going?" We told him we were on our way to Mazamitla. "Why?" To visit friends and spend Christmas there. We showed him our hotel reservation. He didn't look too convinced. Shame his X-ray eyes couldn't see right inside us and judge our intentions. He would have known immediately that we were telling the truth.

By this time, his supervisor had arrived, a much more amicable person. He began to inform Josep why they were searching us. "Have you been stopped by anyone? ¿Alguien ha intentado extorsionarles? Extorsion?" No, thankfully. He warned us not to travel in this area after 7 pm. "We don't have enough units to patrol and keep this region safe!" Oh well, at least he seemed to be on our side... Together they decided we were harmless and and that we didn't have any ulterior motives and let us go. We were definitely relieved to leave Tierra Caliente and arrive in the cool green mountains of Mazamitla.

Cool green landscape

That was the only unpleasant incident we suffered but when our friend urged us not to go back that way, we took her up on her suggestion. We returned to Mexico City via Guadalajara, joining the same motorway we had come along a few days earlier and crossed Michoacán safely. We didn't want to meet up with the military or the drug cartels or the self-defense groups so rife in that area.

Driving from Mazamitla to Lake Chapala

Lake Chapala is enormous, some 80 kms long and 18kms wide...we couldn't see the other side

Town along the lakeside

A local man along the road

Jalisco is famous for its horse-riding tradition

Coming into Guadalajara, Mexico's second largest city

Horses and pelicans near a lake

Man selling locally-grown strawberries along the motorway

Back in Estado de México

Selling woolly jumpers along the side of the road

We hit a heavy rainstorm

Places to eat along the motorway in La Marquesa

What we got instead was a journey through the four seasons, all in one day.

Outdoor activities feel good in Mazamitla, good for body, mind and soul. The clean fresh air, the beautiful landscapes, the smell of the pine trees and log fires, the cool mild climate... they all heighten the senses, stretch the muscles and clear the mind, especially for those of us who live in one of the biggest cities of the world most of the year.

I knew I was out in the countryside again when I heard the cock crowing at the crack of dawn in the house next to us. I snuggled up warmly, almost smothered by the sheer weight of the extra duvet on top of me plus the other two blankets, and took in deep gulps of cold air, fragranced with the smokey hints of last night's fire. A while later, after a full Mexican breakfast (rivalling a full English breakfast), consisting of chilaquiles rojos and scrambled eggs with bacon bits, accompanied by frijoles and orange juice and delicious hot chocolate, we were ready for some action.

Mazamitla has a wide range of outdoor activities on offer... tourist leaflets proclaimed them wherever we looked. On our first morning in Mazamitla we decided to do the 2 km walk to El Salto, a waterfall in the nearby mountains. It was hard on the feet because the trail had been covered in stones. But we realized that this is an absolute necessity for any vehicles to get up and down in the wet weather when the red earth turns into a slippery sticky mud slide.

It was a beautiful day and as we walked, we passed many cabañas and chalet-type houses among the trees. We all picked the one we would like to live in to enjoy the peace and quiet around here. Mine looked like a wooden Swiss chalet but with banana trees in the garden, giving it the necessary exotic touch. It's obvious why the people of Guadalajara flock here in the summer to cool down. If it were nearer to Mexico City, we too would be regular visitors, no doubt about that.

Soon we joined the stream which would plunge down over a rock cliff, forming El Salto, the waterfall we were in going in search of. It wasn't a huge waterfall by any means but was certainly the pride and joy of the people of Mazamitla and they had made it easy for us to get there and appreciate it. Except for a young couple who appeared a little after us, we had it to ourselves.

We climbed back up again and on our way back to Mazamitla, passed small cabañas selling refreshments and souvenirs. Patient horses were lined up waiting to take riders through the woods. Others were already fully laden and off on an adventure somewhere.

The following day, after a heavy rainstorm in the morning and when the weather had cleared up, we ventured out in our blue tank up into the Sierra del Tigre. It didn't take us long to realize that this vehicle, not a 4x4, was like a massive blue whale slithering around on a red beach. We had to stop to clean some of the tons of mud that had lodged around the wheels like an unwanted stowaway. The views were beautiful over the valley and the smell of the pine trees made us long to light another log fire when we got back to our hotel. At that moment, the silence was ripped apart when three quads passed us, swinging round the corners, like nimble crabs negotiating a rocky shoreline. They were definitely better suited for these trails than our car.

Just 15 kms from Mazamitla is the Valle de Juarez on the banks of a lake and so we decided to go and explore the area. Driving through the town, it was obvious that the residents here had at some time sneaked across the border to the US, saved up some money and come back to build a place for their families. A big sign over the road read, "Bienvenido Paisano". Paisano means a person from the same place and refers to those Mexican compatriots who live on American soil but return at Christmas to visit their families. When we arrived at the lake, there were a couple fishing and a few small boats moored up at one point but no-one else was to be seen. Maybe they were preparing for their Christmas celebrations back in the town. We ambled down the Malecón or promenade with its unusual blue paving stones and were greeted by a gang of ducks, the only ones enjoying the water today.

Time had run out for us but there are many more places to visit and outdoor activities in t. Even when it was raining and not entirely suitable to wandering around outside, we kept busy with some hilarious games of billiards at the hotel. They also had a tennis court but our game was aborted when the ball decided to take up permanent residence in the school grounds next door. I went to inform the girl in reception of our misfortune and to see if we could go and retrieve it. "I'm afraid it's school holidays so we have no way of getting the ball until the next school term." So could we use another ball then? "Sorry, we only had one ball!" Oh dear. "Well, can we play billiards again, please?"