Imagine this scene:
The early morning sun rays illuminate the castle gate. There's a gentle breeze but today there is no flag to flutter from the ramparts. A cock crows from without as a fine six year old white charger draws up to the gates. A young child rushes to open the gate...
Yea, it's hardly the usual portcullis folks, it's a pretty thin gate by all appearances, and I omitted to mention that it's a white Dodge Charger truck: 6 cylinders, double cabin, with the power of some 160 of the four legged variety. The scene is actually from downtown Tapachula, Chiapas, close to the Guatemala border and it is taken from the window of the first floor flat where we were staying with our friend Gustavo. I didn't exaggerate a detail - I was quite interested to note the type of charger as we were observing all similar vehicles prior to buying our own truck. I could also have added to the scene description: the cooing of the neighbour's bloody peacock, the big mango tree with one solitary yellow mango and the blaring mariachi over the radio of the car wash next door. This particular castle offended Gus (an architect) as much as it amused me. While on the subject of bizarre architecture, also in Tapachula we saw a church in the style of a mosque, complete with minarets and golden dome and another less impressive castle-like building. Later in Tuxtla Gutierez, the state capital, I was delighted to see an "original" "mock" Disney castle with brilliant yellow stones bordered by blue painted mortar, with a delicious little circular tower. Just missing a few fairies and fireworks. The Mexicans have a name for a certain popular kitsch style: "naco" - it's normally used for people and cars. It's pretty easy to pinpoint a naco car. It may have furry dice, front-mounted bison horns and blue under-lighting. Some Mexicans I have spoken to have been glad to be put straight over David and Victoria Beckham, who are clearly English nacos.
During the 10 day visit to Chiapas, me, Sofia, Gus, Eliud and Gus' dog "La Perucha" spent a great weekend in a borrowed seaside house. It was my first swim in the Pacific Ocean from the Americas. A complete contrast from the Caribbean - the Pacific is strong and dark, while the former is crystal clear and rather gentler. Another first that weekend was my first earthquake. It was about 6.4 on the Richter scale Sofia thought and it gave a gentle rocking motion to things like the dining room table and it lasted 5 - 10 seconds. As things often come in 3s I should not forget to mention my third first: I met a fellow Englishman living in Tapachula - the first I have met in this country who is not a tourist. On the evening of Sofia's birthday - listening to some good jazz - we met Jethro from north Norfolk. He is a sound engineer and dub DJ. I was as surprised to encounter him as I was to experience the earthquake or see a castle. After 30 minutes chat I established a) that Jethro knew the people who designed the sound system for the psytrance stage at the Glade festival in England, b) that we both liked Freq Nasty and c) we both concluded that it is possible to find the basic curry spices in Mexico except for fenugreek which has to be brought from England.
During the day of Sofia's birthday Gus drove us in his white Nissan truck up the Coffee Route, into the mountains that form part of the Sierra Madre. The vegetation soon changed from relatively green to absolute verdant luxuriance of the tropical forest. Up there in mist were a number of fincas, established in the 1920s and 30s by European settlers. We stopped at the first, Argovia, a perfectly manicured spot in the midst of mountain wilderness. By complete coincidence Gus knew the chef who used to work in a top restaurant in La Condesa in Mexico City - and the food was indeed excellent. The stunning pointy orange flowers we saw in the garden were Heliconia (Lobster Claw or Heavenly Spirit in English). We looked in at the finca's cabins - the nicest we've yet seen, dawdled round the gardens, then ate fine cake with the coffee grown by the finca (nice but slightly watery). Gus looked up and said "Ya viene Elber" - he made towards the truck and we all ran... lightning contrasted attractively against the dark sky above. Once we'd got past the 4km of dirt track Gus started to explain Elber (in fact El Ver..) Sofia instantly got it but i needed the gritty details. In the macho Mexican way of thinking the male member (verga - pronounced berga) is used to describe anything gargantuan, in this case "El Vergaso" was an enormous downpour.
Two days later we were on a pedalo on one of the lakes of Monte Bello - heading for home as the sky darkened. Sofia and I pedalled like crazy people and we beat Elber by a hair's breadth.
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