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We came to Orizaba with an Air B-n-B reservation for 3 weeks. Air B-n-Bs, by our experience, can really be a gamble, and to be fair, so is VRBO. Some hosts will tout an exquisite opportunity yet provide you with an untenable result. Here in Orizaba, that was not the case.
Meet Teresa. I told you about her in the previous post (Salmon). She started as our host but has become yet another dear friend in Mexico. Her house is part of a family compound, where 3 of her four sisters live, each having their own, detached home. Each have a husband and a few kids. Surprisingly, there has never felt like there was more than one or two relatives around at any given moment, but these last two nights have been the evenings where they have “taken us in”.
They play the card game Phase 10, but with a few modified rules: Money and ruthlessness. Sharon and I were invited to play with the sisters last night. 5 o’clock was game time. It was also Teresa’s birthday. So, after cake and singing, we gathered our pesos for the “kitty”, poured some tequila and the game began. We reached a point that it was mutually understood to complete the game tomorrow.
Father’s Day. Yes, Father’s Day is celebrated in Mexico as well. We were invited at some point last night to celebrate with the family. I got to sit with the other “fathers”, leaving Sharon to translate conversations on her own. That wasn’t really a problem since all of the sisters were English teachers. After the gang of 20 or so dads, moms, kids and cousins had a fabulous dinner with chile problano, the game reconvened. After about another hour of play, a winner was determined but not before numerous “skip” cards were dealt like daggers and some decent trash talk.
This is why we love Mexico. We went from paying customer to family friend in about 24 hours. Hopefully we won’t wear out our welcome.
Teresa turned us on to a great guide named Paco, but he liked to go by Francisco. One morning, we picked-up Paco/Francisco in pursuit of (once again) Sótano de Popocatl. We realized that our previous attempt was, in fact, the correct route. In the previous attempt, we passed the “shed” in a cloud of dust, missing the secluded entrance and the cheap beer. There was no sign with an arrow or one of those inflatable noodle guys. Just a shed and a gate. Paco negotiated our entrance fee of 50 pesos and we took off down the unmarked path. We would not have found this place on our own.
The path split. Paco took us to the left, to another shed, then into the mouth of a massive cave. It’s a big, big, BIG opening. We weren’t prepared for spelunking, but we went in as far as the light would allow.
We exited the cave and proceeded further along the path. Paco pointed out a number of cool plants, birds, bugs and lizards as we got closer to “the sound”, a waterfall that is one of the most impressive in all of Mexico. The Sótano is sort-of a sink hole, but seriously deep. 260 feet deep with the beginning of the Coatl river falling down the middle of it, only to return underground at the bottom and reveal itself somewhere else miles away. To truly experience this place, people rappel down from the top. There were a handful of folks doing that while we were there. They left their dogs at the top to watch their stuff; friendly, cool dogs that seemed to enjoy the experience as much as we did.
At this point, I was spent. The humidity, the heat and the altitude hit me. Paco wanted to show us around to the other side of the hole, but I was simply exhausted. We proceeded back down the trail, back to the car. Along the route back, Paco asked if we wanted to check out one more cave. To me, a cave means cool air and it’s all downhill. That’s what makes it a cave, right? I said sure. In the next speck of a village, we turned off the main path and pulled over by some tractors. We proceeded down a dirt road to the base of a mountain, then started to climb; up, not down. I lasted for about two hundred feet but gave in, sending Paco and Sharon to continue the experience without me. Sharon said the climbing got worse. They rejoined me on the way down. I was really dragging and managed to blow-out one of my hiking boots. I felt like a pasty white tourist with flushed cheeks. Pinche güero.
A few days later, also by Teresa’s suggestion, we went to check out Cascada Atlahuizia. It was a 2-and-a-half-hour drive into the mountains on really bad road to go only 38 miles, but the pictures we’ve see made it a valiant challenge. It was a bumps, chug holes, rutted gravel and narrow kind of road, and I use the word “road” with some implied quality of drivability. Unfortunately, the “sketchy” road was obliterated last night by a boulder from 600 yards above. Obliterated. We only had 3 miles to go but would never experience Cascada Atlahuizia. It looks like no one else will for several months to come.
We went back to Orizaba and had a couple of bottles of wine at Antonio’s place. All is well.
I miss you both already! You are so adventurous and fun!
It brings so much happiness to see a couple that love and enjoy each other as you do.
Keep having fun!