From Guadalajara to Guzman

by Dc Froburg August. 22, 2008 2453 views

So the story of me coming to Mexico is a good typical Mexico story.

First, my connection in Houston was delayed twice due to weather, and so it made me nervous that I would miss the guy who was sent to pick me out outside the gate upon my arrival. So I get off the plane and I wait for about an hour looking for him, then I finally decide I'm tired, and I want to just go somewhere where I can lie down. So, I get a taxi. The first driver wants 1000 pesos to get to the center of the city. That's $100, so that wasn't happening. I then found a reputable taxi that brought me to a 4-star hotel, which was totally unnecessary. There was a Howard Johnston down the street, but this fancy hotel had internet access, so that sealed the deal.

So I go in and ask for a small room for one night, and they say OK. Then I get to my room, and its got two full sized beds, and a huge shower and bathroom, and cable television. I watched what appeared to be the Olympic power walker from Mexico finish gloriously in 67th place or such. Anyways, there is also a man with a guitar belting out old Mexican love songs till midnight. The bellhop barely stood 5'5" and he had quite the challenge with my suitcase, but we bonded. I told him why I was in Mexico and he told be that he tried to learn English but it was too hard. I said I can understand, its a tough language, and I told him about Spain, and told him that Mexicans are 1000 times more polite, and he seemed to like that.

I woke the next morning three minutes before my alarm (as usually happens, but only when I set an alarm) at 7:27am. I took a shower and went out exploring for an ATM. Along the way I saw numerous governmental office buildings with guards toting M-16's and asked one. He did not understand me. I asked another and he gave me the most vague directions I have ever received for anything, so I just walked around until I found one.

I got another taxi because I needed to get to the bus station. Once there, I ordered a ticket without trouble, although it was a bit confusing because Guzman is the only city you can pick in the area that is not the end of its line from the bus (so I had to take one to Colima to get to Guzman).

The bus arrived late, and I got aboard to find that someone had taken my seat. I took another and readied my camera. About that time the television flickered, came to life, and brought to me, for my viewing pleasure, Braveheart, in Spanish.

So, I took most of these pictures while Spanish Mel Gibson slaughtered the English in the name of freedom.

I arrived in Guzman to no pick-up again. Thus I needed another taxi to get to the house I live in, but I as of yet do not know the address, so instead I go to the school where I work.

They were very surprised to see me, alive, and in the right place. So I met a few co-workers and got a ride to my place. Its a typical dwelling, one floor out of a two floor building, and is pretty much 20 feet wide by 200 feet long. It takes me a good 20 seconds to walk from my bedroom to the living room. I should be lean by october.

So, that brings the story up to the present time, where I just returned home from tacos out on the town, and made my first visit to the convenience store.

Exciting stuff, this Mexico.

In Mexico they don't have Dennis the Menace…They have Daniel the Travesty.

Your typical fish taco stand

Not quite the “white cities” of Spain, but close enough for me.

Outer limits of Guadalajara

Apparently China does alot of trade with the Mexicans.

The beginning of the green journey from Guadalajara to Guzman

Cloud covered mountains lined the entire route.

As is depicted here.

This rather looks like Japan to me. Circa 1250.

Amazing amounts of produce grow on the sides of these mountains

Its a pretty scenic drive, even if you are only hauling some commodity.

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