A day on the road in Mexico

Having arrived in Oaxaca yesterday and made plans for today's riding, the first thing I do in the morning is change them. Instead of heading north today towards the Gulf of Mexico, I will head south towards the Guatemala border, passing near to the Pacific coastline.

I procrastinate until almost 11am before getting on the road, despite having a small breakfast of a granola bar and cup of coffee. I know deep down that it's foolish as I have quite a way to go if I want to reach today's goal, a town called Tuxtla Guitierrez, which will leave me a short ride to visit the Mayan ruins at Palenque tomorrow. Additionally the closer to midday it gets, the hotter I will be.

I set off through the press of the downtown Oaxaca traffic, riding extremely defensively as is the norm in towns here. Horns sound all around - part of the reason is because the cabs here toot at any pedestrian, hoping for a fare - and lane order is something that happens in other countries. A guy pulls up at the lights next to me and asks where I'm from, probably the Spanish phrase I'm most familiar with by now.

Following the signposts for the 190 I start to leave town and as the speed builds, the cooling airflow is appreciated and makes me realise I was much hotter than I knew. The road starts to climb into the mountains, leaving the Oaxaca valley behind. My map tells me I have maybe 200km of mountain roads, which I know I won't really get any more than 70Km/h out of. So I'm in for a long ride through the mountains. A signpost to the next town confirms 207Km.

As I start to sweep through the passes I really begin to enjoy myself. The road is of a decent quality in most places, for a change, and as long as the normal rules are applied - no gassing it until you can see what's in the road around the bend - progress can be made swiftly. The land around here has changed slightly from yesterday's riding, there are less cactus mixed in with the trees. But the earth is still red and there are myriad butterflies, orange, yellow, large black and yellow ones. It is hard to avoid getting a few in the visor, despite weaving my head back and forth. As I take a tight right bend around a sheer cliff, a huge dark shape hovers directly over me like some angel of death. It's a sort of large vulture, riding a thermal up from the valley below. Maybe this is why, over the next few dozen kilometers, there is biblical graffiti scribbled into the cliff faces at the side of the road. One passage that keeps repeating is Job 33:14, and in spite of myself I wonder what it means, and what inspired someone to daub it here.

After a while the weather closes in and I get a light showering, but it's not even enough to make me close the vents in my jacket. It's cooler up here, but still too warm to be wrapped up. The road starts to drop again and soon it's possible to see a swollen brown river down in the valley with sheer cliffs and rainforest covered mountains making for a dramatic view. I pass through a couple of tiny villages, the population more or less all indian, and everyone stares, but I'm used to being stared at now. Occasionally I wave, occasionally I get a wave back.

Most days there is some sort of road stupidity, sometimes scary, but when it happens today's is much worse than normal. I round a blind left hand downhill bend doing no more than 50mph and find a VW beetle in my lane, in the process of overtaking a lorry climbing the hill. On a bike I have time to brake, swerve down the outside and angrily wave the idiot that he should be on his side of the road. If I'd been in a car, I would have ended up as a bonnet ornament. Afterwards I start to think about risk versus reward, which I do quite often, and I wonder just how anyone can do the maths and decide that their life is worth a few extra miles per hour.

By the time I'm through the mountains and the road flattens out, I'm hungry and it's getting close to 2pm. I start to look for a restaurant in one of the frequent small towns I am passing through, I'm still not brave enough to try what in New York they would call "street meat", tacos fried at the road side. The surrounding land is similar to the mountains but as it is now flat there is little shelter from the sun and it's baking hot, so when I see a restaurant that has a small stand of trees outside, it looks like a good place to stop.

I pull the bike under the trees and find a table where I can keep an eye on it. Air conditioning is provided by having no glass in the windows and a thatched roof. I'm the only person there except the proprietor and her kids. There is no menu, just to make it a little harder on the gringo, and the lady rattles off a list of food which results in a blank look from me. She wanders off and two minutes later there is a whistle for my attention from the kitchen, she has a plate with a huge steak, three juicy prawns and a large fish on it. She says they are the options and I pick the steak, she asks how I want it and of the options I select a la Mexicana. I sit down wondering what I just ordered.

When it turns up it's a delicious chopped steak in a spicy veg sauce, with tortillas and a side of refried beans. With a large Gatorade it costs 55 pesos, about $5 or less than £3 and will keep me going all day. Outside a guy drives past in a wagon with huge wooden wheels, pulled by two oxen. The driver wears a white cowboy hat like other farmers and goatherds, contrasting starkly with his dark skin. An orange and grey woodpecker alights on the tree next to my bike, where a dog is curled up trying to sleep in the heat. This place is in some sort of time warp.

I try to tell the lady the meal was muy, muy bien and get back on the road, frustrated that I haven't learned more Spanish.

The road swings south towards the Pacific and I see my first palm trees. I also see a black sky north and east, and before long the sky in front of me darkens too. The road is amazingly good for a non toll road though, dead straight across the coastal plain and well paved. There is a lot of traffic as there are a few big towns on the coast, and I start to get the usual "not quite an overtake" where cars go to overtake, but then pull in where I am, forcing me to chop the throttle and avoid them. The road is one lane, but wide enough for two cars abreast and looking ahead there are often three cars side by side as everyone tries to overtake everyone else. There is a delicate, floral perfume in the air, like hand cream. Must be the yellow wild flowers at the roadside. That is until I pass through a small town, which like all the others has a festering pile of garbage on the outskirts.

Suddenly the road turns into roadworks and from 100 plus km/h I'm bouncing through mud and potholes in first gear. This happens a couple of times, whilst in the distance I can see great forks of lightning. I'm about to get wet.

I start to zip up vents on my jacket and then the rain comes down, so hard that I can feel it through my sleeves and it stings my exposed neck. It's still not too bad on the road though as it is straight and visibility is ok. I see a town that is marked on my map and realise with a start that I am a long way from Tuxtla still, and it is mid afternoon already. Not good. By 5pm the road is winding into the mountains again, there is no one else on it, and it's been raining heavily for two solid hours. I take the twisty roads very carefully, there are occasional potholes and diesel spills make rainbow coloured patches here and there. There is so much water on the road! It's draining down slopes and pouring over edges.

Crossing the mountains the sky is brighter but there is no let up. I see a sign for Tuxtla that tells me I have 137km to go and I know that means even in the dry I would have been riding in the dark, let alone in these wet conditions. I start to ride through large areas of standing water in the valley, it must have been raining like this here all day at least. It gets worse as I go on, and after ploughing through a long flooded stretch, the bike creating a wake that soaks into my boots, I pass a couple of stopped cars and wonder if I will have to turn back. There is nothing on the road behind me for mile after mile...

In the thickening gloom I start to get flashed often by passing cars. I'm not sure whether it is because I didn't convert my drive-on-the-left headlights, or whether the load on the rear of the bike is lifting the headlights and dazzling people, but plainly I'm pissing them off. Darkness falls and I start shouting at people when they flash me "I know, I know, you %$@!". I'm getting tired obviously, and just want to be off the road.

The last few kilometers take nearly an hour as there are roadworks and everyone is stuck behind a lorry. When I get into the centre of Tuxtla, there are more large, deep puddles. I find an hotel at the second attempt and am really relieved to get off the road. My summer gloves are twice their normal weight, completely sodden, and my fingers are wrinkled like I've been in the bath too long. My trousers and boots are totally saturated, and all my cash in my hidden travel wallet, about US$400, has to be dried on the room's air conditioner. Even my good jacket has let water, and my iPod is soaked but functional, fortunately my passport is the only dry item. I grab a sandwich from a local shop and munch that whilst reflecting on my day.

So that is life on the road in Mexico. The days are not all so extreme but they do tend to be a real mix of highs and lows. Meantime I'm taking a day off to dry out before I head to Palenque tomorrow.

That's all folks.

Frase.