By Mari Pintkowski

Tour within a tour.

Note: This is the 10th part of the serialization of Mari Pintkowski’s book, “Embarking on the Mariposa Trail.” The book is available at local bookstores along the Riviera Maya or on the author’s web site www.laselvamariposa.com For previous chapters see the PMN archives. The fluttering yellow mariposas led us into Monterey and began to disappear over the next few days as we climbed high into the Sierra Madre mountain range. We found ourselves in the middle of rush hour traffic with no hotels conveniently located. We drove on and could see that we were leaving the city. The pink sunset over the surrounding mountain ranges signaled that our search to find a place for our first night on the Mariposa Trail was becoming more urgent.

We saw a sign to a hotel resort that overlooked a cascading waterfall only 4 km away. We both agreed this sounded like an interesting place to spend the night. This would turn out to be our first "backdoor tour" of the journey. The road narrowed as it twisted and turned up into the mountains. Remember, we were pulling a trailer with 4,000 lbs. behind our Suburban. We passed many villages along the way; each specializing in a different craft. There was a tope in front of almost every house/business. A steady stream of tired looking workers was heading down the mountain on foot, donkey or truck.

We could hear the pounding of the waterfall, and finally turned into the resort. We had driven almost 9 km, rather than the 4 km that were advertised. The man at the gate spoke to us in broken English, "I'm sorry. The hotel is full." He suggested we head down to the town at the bottom of the mountain to find lodging for the night.

When we reached the base, I looked at the twinkle in Lou's eyes and knew that our "backdoor tour" was not over. Lou followed a narrow road to the lake where many people, immersed in the daily "happy hour," filled the tiny bars along the shore. Since it was the rainy season, the banks of the lake were overflowing. The road was lined with cars on both sides, leaving room only for one-way traffic. Lou quickly made a right into a potholed alley where there was no turning back.

When we reached the main highway we found the town's only hotel. This was not a time to be picky, so we checked into a dark, shabby room. We were in the mountains now, and it was getting colder by the minute. Our limited Spanish did not produce the blankets we requested, but the receptionist led me to the storage closet to choose whatever we needed. We were hungry and exhausted from the day, but we were far from sleep.

We unhitched the trailer and went across the highway and followed a road a short distance to a lively little town called San Isadora. It had a European feel and the main square was surrounded by upscale restaurants and bars. The park-like area, with a magnificent old cathedral at one end, was being set up for an evening with the Governor. There was a big television screen, media equipment, a hundred or so chairs, a stage, and a refreshment area. We found a table in one of the restaurants, which provided us with a bird's eye view of the evening's festivities. After a melodious concert preformed by a chorus of smiling, proud looking children, we slipped past the crowd and made our way to the dreary hotel.

We were on the road before the sun came up, and were treated to a brilliant sunrise over the mountain range to the east. As the navigator, I paid close attention to the maps and sharply said, "Lou this doesn't look right. All of these maps seem to be taking us away form our destination of Vera Cruz." We pulled over to take a better look. Lou said, "I agree. Let's just take the road toward the coast."

The new route took us south of Victoria and within an hour we were on another backdoor tour. We had several encounters with the Federal police, but only the officer in Tampico asked for mordida (a bribe). (Check out the book for more information that we learned the hard way about dealing with the police on the roads in Mexico).

We could no longer use our Internet maps since we had changed course. These roads, in a bad state of disrepair, must have been damaged from the past storms. Our instinct told us to go back to the toll roads. On the map it looked like a short meandering drive through the mountains. In reality, it turned out to be a two-day beautiful, but painstakingly slow trip. (You have to read the book to find out just how amazing and colorful this part of our journey was. You need several weeks to really see it all.) At the end of the next day, Lou said, "Don't let me take any more side roads!"

We had endured enough and decided to stop for the day as we descended from the mountains into Pachua, once a wealthy mining town. We found a modern hotel, in the heart of the city. We welcomed the conveniences and the huge room overlooking the sights of an immaculate old city.

Needless to say this was a far cry from the towns we had passed on our backdoor tour! As we fell asleep, I wondered what tomorrow would bring as we inched closer to living our dream along the Mariposa Trail.

Mari Pintkowski and her husband, Lou, live in Macario Gomez, just 15 minutes from Tulum off the Coba road and operate their B&B. www.laselvamariposa.com

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