The ferry from La Paz (Baja) to Mazatlán (the mainland)
 |
| Australia, Germany, Canada, USA, Denmark and of course Ireland represented on the ferry. |
 |
| Sitting together on the ferry with the map of Mexico. We had all decided on different routes through Mexico. |
Since the ferry from La Paz to Mazatlán only runs three times per week it's not surprising that almost every ferry unites a small group of cycling tourers. The Baja acts as a sort of funnel and the only point of exit off the peninsula is the ferry port at La Paz.
Rumour had it that you could hitch a lift with the Mexican truck drivers (and save having to pay the 70usd ferry fee) so of course I thought I'd give it a go. After two hours of stopping trucks and asking for a lift I gave up. I bought a ticket and boarded the boat with the other cyclists. Such a great atmosphere. Myself and Leann had bumped into Helena (bottom right of the photo below with red cap) at a set of traffic lights outside LA. We just said a quick hello and goodbye as it was dark and pouring rain and we were nearing a camp site. And here almost 2000kms later I bump into her on the ferry.
Mazatlán
Seeing as there was a bunch of us, we cycled off for breakfast together as soon as the ferry docked after the 12 hour crossing and then all piled into a lovely hotel. Cheap as chips when you can share a room. But my oh my was the mainland hot.
 |
| Beautiful colours of the walls and doors of our Mazatlán hotel made me feel like I had just arrived in Cuba. |
 |
| Town plaza of Mazatlán with its own salsa dancing competition in full swing |
The Cuota or not The Cuota ... that is the question
While other cyclists seem to have researched their routes and downloaded the maps for each country, I use the general strategy of getting out the map, finding some point about 70-80kms south and then just getting on the bike. I chat all along my way asking about the road up ahead, the climbs, how busy certain roads are, how far to the next town and it has worked fine so far. However on the Mexican mainland things are not quite so straight forward.
It seems that to get from city A to city B, one has two options. Option one is to take the toll road (la cuota). Option two is to take the old road (la libre). So while most cyclists seem to prefer the motorway/toll road for its hard shoulder and good'ish quality tarmac I actually hate them. On one particular day recently I was completely losing the will to live on a motorway hard shoulder and only for some supportive What's App texts from my friend Maria and her husband in Cork, I think I might have gone completely mad. I spent one full day amusing myself by following the hanzel and gretel crumb trail of these green chilies along the motorway hard shoulder. Pity it wasn't something slightly more stealable.
 |
| Thousands of green chillies littered the hard shoulder of the motorway one day. |
The advantage of taking the old roads is that stuff is happening all along the route. There are roadside vendors selling tamales and tacos, informal restaurants selling lunch, farmers ploughing fields, kids playing. And also if you don't quite reach the destination you thought you might get to you can always find another village or town 10kms closer.
 |
| Rosamorada at sunset. A lovely town I had no intention of staying in. |
 | ||
| On the old road locals often stop you and jump out of their cars for a photo. |
Staying with the local parish priest in Ahuacatlán
My strategy to find a safe place to pitch my tent since on the mainland has been to ask at the fire station and if there was none, then I'd ask at the police station. But I had also heard that cyclists camped in churches. I wasn't quite sure how it might work but I had to start somewhere. Attempt one worked a treat. Attempt two, not so good. When I asked the one and only priest in the town of Ahuacatlán if I could camp on the church grounds he invited me to stay in the parish house. His mum was visiting so along with and en-suite bedroom I was also offered dinner and breakfast the next morning. Deadly.
 |
| My very comfortable room in the parish priest's house. |
 |
| My room with a view. |
 |
| When trying to escape early the next morning there was no option but to wheel Sherpa right through the church. |
Tried the same strategy the next night but wasn't quite so lucky...
So impressed was I with my first attempt at 'church camping' that I tried again in the next town the following night. The parish priest told me I could pitch Sweeny Green behind some railings beside the main church door. However at 10pm that night I got a knock on my tent door asking me to move. Two elderly homeless men said I was on their patch and should move. Had I not seen their cardboard boxes? Fortunately the church had two porches with railings so both men very kindly and politely helped me pack up my tent and all my stuff and move 20m down the way. They are the first homeless people I had seen in six weeks of cycling through Mexico.
 |
| Sweeny Green tucked away nicely behind the church railings. |
 |
| This is the 'other' porch where the homeless men helped me move to. |
 |
| The church plaza the following morning. This was the first time I had seen bread which wasn't 'sweet bread' in Mexico. Hallelujah. |
Esquinapa - the most famous town for biking in Mexico
Staying in the town of Esquinapa was a particularly lovely experience. At dusk I was taking a random exit off the soulless motorway when I bumped into three young lads on their mountain bikes. I asked where the cyclists stay when they pass through their town. They answered 'with Lance's mum'. And with that they escorted me to Lance's mum's house. Lance's real name is Pablo but so mad is he about bikes that he has been called Lance since he can remember. He is president of the local bike club.
 |
| Pablo aka Lance at the back wearing the baseball cap. This house was well used to hosting cycle tourers. |
 |
| The town of Esquinapa has a monument to the bicycle in its main plaza. |
 |
| The lads who took me to Lance's house. They took me to see the famous monument also. |
 |
| Arriving just as night falls in the town of Esquinapa. |
The good old Bomberos strike again
The mainland is oh so different from the Baja Peninsula. It's busy and noisy. It's hot and sweaty. There are loads of roads so the options for a cyclist are endless. I had heard that there was a good 'Casa de Cicilista' in Guadalajara, Mexico's second biggest city. So that's where I was aiming for.
 |
| My very own room at the Bomberos in Acaponeta |
 |
| A most entertaining evening meal with the firemen at Acaponeta. |
Mexican Food
Since hitting Mexico's mainland these stalls selling sweet dried fruit & veg keep popping up. Below shows some dried and sweetened pumpkin, grapefruit and turnip.
 |
| Breakfast at Lance's house consisted of deep fried crispy tacos served in a cold spicy tomato soup with some grated carrot and cabbage on top. |
 |
| A huge portion of delicious ceviche. Raw shrimp and octopus with avocado and onion. All marinated in lime juice. |
My Food
My current go-to dinner on the road is some chopped up boiled spuds with a salad of hardboiled egg, scallions, tomato and of course lime juice.
 |
| A very dull motorway hard shoulder lunch. |
 |
| My very own handmade egg box. |
The Town of Tequila
There are 111 Pueblos Magicos (magic towns) in Mexico. It was an idea of the Department of Tourism during the 1990s to highlight some particularly lovely towns for tourists to visit. Tequila is one of them and was directly on my route. It was gorgeous. I could have stayed a week. But I just had time for lunch.
 |
| A road sign welcoming me to the town of Tequila. |
 |
| Tequila's cathedral on another sunny day. |
 |
| A beautiful day's ride into the town of Tequila on the old road. |
 |
| Tequila is made from the agave plant which grows along the roadside in this region of Jalisco. |
Guadalajara
The casa de ciclista (home of the cyclist) in the city of Guadalajara was a real highlight. The huge building in a nice part of town was bought for the bike cooperative by a travelling cycle tourer from California. He liked the idea of the bike coop so much that he wanted to support the project and so bought the coop a home. The casa now consists of a regular bike shop which often holds training workshops, a specific centre for building bamboo bikes, a kitchen and bedroom and bathroom for travelling cyclists and an event room. Highspeed internet plus the company of other travelling cyclists made it a welcome break from the hot, sweaty noisy and busy roads.
 |
| Exploring downtown Guadalajara with some other touring cyclists. |
 |
| My very own planning office with blackboard wall and chalk at Casa de Ciclista, Guadalajara. |
I know this might seem a little odd but I just thought I'd include it to sum up the mood here in Mexico at the moment. I came across the below photo when looking at photos of a recent bike conference on the laptop of one of the guys who worked at the casa.
He described a recent global bike coop conference that took place at the casa in Guadalajara a few months previously. It's called BikeBike and is held in a different country every year. In 2016 BikeBike was held Mexican style in Guadalajara. In Mexico there is a tradition of the ' La Piñata'. A papier maché object is hung from the ceiling at parties and a everyone takes turn bashing the Piñata with a baseball bat blindfolded. Well at this year's BikeBike a certain Mr Trump was hidden inside the Piñata and well you can imagine what happened.
He described a recent global bike coop conference that took place at the casa in Guadalajara a few months previously. It's called BikeBike and is held in a different country every year. In 2016 BikeBike was held Mexican style in Guadalajara. In Mexico there is a tradition of the ' La Piñata'. A papier maché object is hung from the ceiling at parties and a everyone takes turn bashing the Piñata with a baseball bat blindfolded. Well at this year's BikeBike a certain Mr Trump was hidden inside the Piñata and well you can imagine what happened.
 |
| A certain Mr Trump being bashed with a baseball bat at the bike conference. |
