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I AM SORRY IF I’M YELLING BUT… YOU’LL UNDERSTAND BY THE END OF THIS.
Thursday, December 21, 2023. It was a rather nasty, rainy day as we crossed into Mexico this morning via the Columbia Bridge. The Element and I already had our papers and permissions, but we had to make a quick stop for Sharon to get legal.
Once through Monterrey, we took the free road to Saltillo. There’s an old, well-past-its-prime hotel we called “The Ebola Hotel”, (real name is Hotel Urdiñola). In its day, this was a pretty fancy place. There’s a beautiful double staircase right at the entry and all the rooms surround an inner courtyard/garden. Today, its just a tired old hotel that’s rather invisible, especially when compared to the KFC’s popularity there on the corner. Still, it was convenient to the square where the Christmas spirit was in full display like a peacock with an excessive ego. Tonight, the air is crisp, cool, pleasantly dry and just right for a stroll through the decorations.
Not to be out done, a few hundred miles to the south, downtown Zacatecas was festooned with blocks of illuminated streets, each competing for attention. We stayed a couple of nights at our favorite hotel, Meson de Jobito. We walked the ornate and active streets at night, taking in all the holiday cheer we could hold in our jolly hearts. By day, we simply walked around casually, “oohed and ahhed” a bit at the Zacatecas accoutrements, and made a courtesy visit to Las Quince Letras, Zacatecas’ oldest bar. Old bars: that’s become a thing with me.
We took the free road into Guadalajara. The free road does add some time to your travel but it also allows you to scoot through the little villages, get a number of concerned gazes from the townspeople, and dodge some livestock. Then there’s the meandering through the countryside along guardrail-less mountain turns that reveal spectacular gorges and falls. It’s an intriguing balance of natural beauty combined with the potential of a horrible demise.
So, we’re in Tonalá. It’s what I would call a suburb of Guadalajara. It’s Christmas Eve and this town is in full hustle mode. The wide sidewalks have been overtaken by a small country of street vendors with their plastic-tarp-wrapped temporary stalls, three-rows-deep along the main boulevard. We managed to cut through this human wall of commerce and found our cute little hotel, Hotel Don Elias.
Hotel Don Elias is on a hill and gives you great views of all of Guadalajara on the right. On the left it’s the rocky parking lot, 6 or 7 horses and a ranch dog. The locals have started up their holiday fireworks; loud, “I’ve been shot” type fireworks. No pretty colors or displays. Just explosions that echo through these old, dusty streets like you’re about to witness a crime scene.
In central Guadalajara, I had booked a place through Airbnb that placed us adjacent to Tlaquepaque for the rest of our stay. It looked cool, safe and convenient, but the pictures were far from accurate. This was a “condo” surrounded by questionable cheap hotel types. It’s quite chilly here. This bungalow is lacking several windows and there is no hot water. We absorbed the cancellation penalty and checked out within an hour, leaving Casa Nogal – Tlaquepaque and its “super-hosts” to find other victims. We settled at Hotel Media Luna. Scary on the outside but cute on the inside with our “under the sea” themed room and it’s “hot water, 24/7”. Actually, they had a hot water heater and it was plugged in 24/7. However, truly experiencing hot water was a rather elusive event.
We met up with Sharon’s nephew, Aaron, the next morning. Little did he know as to exactly just what he had signed up for. The next few days were spent searching for closed restaurants and “the oldest bar in Guadalajara”. One closed door always leads to a near-by street cart. This one was slinging plump, moist pork shanks which we picked clean on a nearby church bench. On another day we drove out near Tequila to see the ruins of Guachimontones in Teuchitlán, Jalisco. This is a relatively new site but they’ve done a great job of illustrating the daily life of Guachimontonites.
Possibly the highlight of this trip was a cool “speakeasy” type bar named Gallo Altanero. It was upstairs in a trendy, hip area of Guadalajara. It didn’t fit more than 20 people and the staff was delightful. Alejandra, the perky young thing that made the specialty cocktails was quite good at her job, wonderful at conversation and preferred to wear a minimum number of articles of clothing. I personally was delighted to just sit at the bar and order drinks that required shaking. The more shaking the better.
Just outside of Guadalajara is a massive, house-eating gorge. We took a long, bumpy ride down into the gorge to a series of hot spring pools. As I said earlier, it’s rather chilly here and hot water has proven to be a rare commodity, so the hot springs were welcoming and intoxicating.
Meanwhile, back at the Media Luna… For six nights, the location of this hotel put us smack in the middle of all the activity that comes with Tlaquepaque: art, shopping, eating, drinking, drunk tourist-watching and mariachis. Drunk tourists, and locals as well, can get pretty loud. For some reason, all of Tlaquepaque, no, all of Guadalajara liked to use the street outside of our hotel window, and in particular between 2 am and 5 am. It was as if everyone had removed their muffler and our street was a drag strip. Ne’er-do-well horses, up well after curfew, clopped stumbly down our cobbled street, probably popping more of those louder than legal Mexican firecrackers along their way. Sleep was simply a vague idea. Kind a like that 24/7 hot water.
Then… we joined the club.
It was 5 am, December 31th, and we needed to get Aaron back to the airport. Sharon and I decided (without discussing this) that we should leave Guadalajara as well. Just leave. Find a quieter adventure a day earlier. We all packed, skipping a cold morning shower, and walked to the car.
The car. My beloved 2009 Honda Element. My trusty burro. Tammy. She waited patiently for us, night after night on these Mexican streets, like a really cool, dependable dog. We loaded her up, buckled in and cranked the engine.
Chuga, chuga CHAHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRARAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!
Earlier this morning, someone had relieved her of her catalytic converter. My muffler is essentially bypassed. We have joined the club.
SO, FOR THE LONG DRIVE HOME, TAMMY SOUNDS LIKE A SINGLE PROP AIRPLANE, UNLESS WE ACCELERATE. THEN IT’S MUCH LOUDER. WE PERSEVERED AND ENTERED MONTERREY. NO ANNOUNCEMENT WAS NECESSARY. THEY HEARD US COMING.
Wow. We were numb from that drive. Numb and deaf. But it’s New Years Eve. We have a lovely room in downtown Monterrey at The Kavia. We walked the Barrio Antiguo a bit, then found a wonderful hotel restaurant for a bottle of wine, watching the parrots fly in to roost and shared a wonderful dinner.
As of this writing, I am not sure of the Element’s status. But she got us home. Thank you Tammy.
Enjoyed your adventure very much. Sorry about the car.
Hello Mr. And Mrs. Meals , this Doris and David, we met in Mexico, at media luna hotel. Hope everything is going well.
Hi Doris and David! So glad that you emailed us. We had a great visit to Guadalajara. Hope you are both doing well!