The archeological site of Palenque is one of the most magnificent in Mexico. The Mayan astronomers built towers to observe and record the night sky in 400 AD or thereabouts. I can’t imagine what the night sky must have been like then.
From my visit in 1974A time before you paid a fee to enter, before parking lots, tour guides and gift shops.
Lisa and I visited Palenque again in 2015 when we brought her mom to live with us in Bacalar.
Waterfalls near the pyramids.
This time, we did not climb the pyramids, but stumbled upon one of the highlights of our two-week trip, Aluxes Ecopark.
As always, YouTube shows off the animals way better than all my photographs.
The park breeds and releases guacamayas (red tailed macaws), helping to protect and grow their population.
Maybe it was the day we were there, but this out of the way animal reserve provided us with the relaxing day we were looking for. Shaded walking paths and benches allowed us to commune with nature as best as we could.
The Tortas have taken on the challenge of finding the best chocolate in San Cristobal de las Casas. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it. The mountainous state of Chiapas, Mexico is known for its coffee and chocolate. The weather has turned chilly and rainy for us jungle girls. What better excuse than to drink our weight in chocolate!
Coffee for Lisa and chocolate for me.Dangerously across the street from our hotel.Lisa on the pedestrian walkway.View from dinner our first night. Love the colonial architecture. Gazebo waiting for Christmas decorations.
Not too sweet with notes of cinnamon.
While we loved San Cristobal, you can see how the narrow streets clogged with traffic and the stone sidewalks worn smooth from pedestrian’s feet have changed the city. Most visitors were Mexican, but we heard a lot of German spoken.
Mexico has so many beautiful towns, and we are eager to visit them all, at least as many as we can. They are called Magical Cities, and San Cristobal was indeed.
With only a few days notice, Lisa and I packed up her mother and aunt and headed out for the five hour drive to Merida, at the tip of the Yucatán peninsula. We knew that the city put on a IG worthy Day of the Dead celebration and wanted to join in. We were not disappointed.
Waiting for the parade of the spirits.
Souls leaving the cemetery to visit their families.The annual visit of the dead.A Mayan ceremony of blessing before the parade.
The following day, we saw the parade of the Catrinas. Catrina goes back to the French colonization of Mexico and a reporter making fun of how skinny the French women were. They were portrayed as skeletons and are now integral to the Day of the Dead celebration.
Large puppets are a relatively new and fun addition .
The costumes were amazing.
A good time was had by all. Alice and her sister returned to Bacalar by bus, and Lisa and I continued on to Campeche. It was a bucket list check off for us. A lovely full moon followed us to this colonial Gulf Coast city.
Gate to Old Town. Our splurge hotel in a renovated hacienda.
We are actually getting quite good at dropping everything and taking off. It’s a different way of traveling, no plans, just throw everything in a suitcase and go. We’re managing to fit a lot into two weeks. There is definitely more to come.
A few days ago, I shared on FB a video of the Mexican voladores or ceremonial “flyers.” I reminisced of the first time I saw this mesmerizing performance in the mountains of Puebla in central Mexico. It is traditionally performed to bring the rain or ask the gods for anything the village needs. Today, it is tourist entertainment all over Mexico. Pass the hat.
Going to Cuetzala, where the tradition originated, was an adventure in itself. Hours on a chicken bus climbing through high, coffee-producing mountains where the locals drank instant Nescafe.
Coffee drying on the roof circa 1973
University students were invited by the local priest to teach English to children in exchange for a cot and a hot.
Lovely old cemetery.Traditional garb outside the cathedral. People did NOT like their pictures taken.The Sunday market with locals mixing with outsiders.
One day our little friend group walked to a nearby waterfall. The instructions were to follow “that” path. 👈
Off on an adventure. We could hear it before we could see it.Off came the clothes. If there’s water, I’m in it.
My brother read my FB post after I expressed a long-held desire to return to Cuetzala and commented
“You have the time. You have the means. Lisa would be up for it. Go!”
It is so easy to look at someone else’s life and make assumptions. I admit our life looks pretty sweet. I had to laugh at his cavalier instructions as this week was exceptionally insane.
We got solar hooked up, yeah! (After a week of people tromping about).
A tree fell on electrical wires leaving my MIL without electricity for five days. She hadn’t yet been added to our solar system.
Our son in Austin fell and broke his collarbone.
He is being cared for by family. Trip to Austin averted.
Stella got into it with a neighbor dog and had to go to the vet.
Poor baby. She likely instigated the encounter.She refuses to say what happened but there were a lot of bloody pawprints.
We were leaving on Thursday to visit Merida for Day of the Dead (DOTD) when our house sitter was picked up by immigration (another story entirely).
Car insurance – we had to renew for one car and discovered we had lapsed for the other. It was a stressful ordeal of multiple phone calls over several days in Spanish even though they say someone speaks English.
It is not easy to pick up and go, something we didn’t foresee when moving here. No complaints, it just is what it is.
We will get away from hearth and home and DOGS and hopefully get some great DOTD photos. Until then.
If we do not see someone or talk to them in thirty years can we still consider them a good friend? Are comments and posts on Facebook enough? Somehow I imagined running into him in a coffee shop and picking up the conversation where we left off. Memories, shared history and familiarity would bring us up to date. Where did the time go?
This week I lost that opportunity. Gareth found out two months ago that he had gallbladder cancer. It’s one of those nasty cancers that by the time you find out, it’s too late. It hit me like a punch in the stomach. I can’t imagine what it did to his wife and son.
I went to Gareth and Wendy’s wedding in 1983. My son was days old when I wrapped us both in a blanket and ventured out. It was April and one of those Texas spring days with the sun out and a blustery wind. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding in the Texas Hill Country
I called a mutual friend this week to make sure she knew of his passing . She reminisced of a road trip they took, camping along the way. “I had such a crush on him.” I think we all did.
A friend wrote on his FB page, “If I was told that as of yesterday there were no more mountains on earth, I think it would feel the way I feel hearing there is no more Gareth. It’s simply impossible. I love that guy. ❤️.” What a lovely sentiment.
His page is filling up with stories, sadness, and shock. He was such a dear person.
My “old” friend Gareth.
One more reason to be grateful for another day on this spinning rock. Farewell and adiós Gareth. To have been so loved is a life well lived. And we did not expect it.
In the 1970s in Mexico, it was quite easy to exist without a car. Buses passed regularly by every corner and first-class buses traveled from one city to the next. And it was cheap! Most people just didn’t have cars.
Even in Austin, I enjoyed using public transportation (PT). I like to people watch, and you really learn a lot about a place by mingling with people shoulder to shoulder. What better way than PT.
This week, I had to drop my car off in Chetumal, 40 minutes away for maintenance. Yes, we could have taken two cars, and Lisa could have followed and brought me home. Or I could take the colectivo. I chose the latter.
View from the back seat.
Colectivos aka taxis run back and forth between Bacalar and Chetumal. They hold four passengers squeezed together and depart only when full. The cost is about $3. I get a kick out of them. There is always AC and music blasting. They are so Mexican.
Maria de Jesus Rodriguez
This week, I met Maria, sitting next to me in the back seat. She is the head of the hotel and restaurant association of Bacalar. We yacked the whole way, and before I knew it, I was home. I love meeting random, interesting people while traveling. We exchanged numbers and plan to meet for coffee.
Riding in a colectivo.
In December we will attend our fourth Mexican wedding. They have ranged greatly in economic status. In December we will attend the small village wedding of our housekeeper. I’m really looking forward and honored to have been invited. One more way to celebrate our adopted country.
“Aging is not for the weak. One day you wake up and realize that your youth is gone, but along with it, so go insecurity, haste, and the need to please… You learn to walk more slowly, but with greater certainty. You say goodbye without fear, and you cherish those who stay. Aging means letting go, it means accepting, it means discovering that beauty was never in our skin… but in the story we carry inside us.” Meryl Streep.
Beauty in the hood.
Almost thirteen years ago, I began this blog to shine a light for others who might like to follow and to let my family and friends know what we were up to on this adventure of living in Mexico. Little did I know how things would change.
You Tube, Instagram, Ticktock and god knows what else are overflowing with stories of people who have self deported. Much like we did, they sold everything, scooped up their families and relocated to an unfamiliar culture, language and environment.
More beauty.
Many are trying to romanticize it all. While I love Mexico, the struggle is real. At least we left by choice.
Our blog has evolved from the Adventures of Dos Tortas to the Aging of Dos Tortas. We are in as unfamiliar a territory as the deportees.
Some days I wonder why I continue to write. I guess I do it for me. My parents and grandparents certainly didn’t prepare me for my seventies. Our experiences are all different but maybe we can be there for each other just a little, and share the story we carry inside us.
Years ago when I was trying to find myself as a newly minted “baby” dyke, I attended numerous women’s only events. The Michigan Women’s Music Festival blew my mind as I spent a week camping with a few thousand women in the woods of northern Michigan. Sisters were doin’ it for themselves, and I was agog.
View of the main stage.
Locally in Austin we had weekend gatherings that I eagerly participated in. At one retreat I recall joining in for an opportunity to let my mind wander and imagine the life I’d like to create. Eyes closed we were led through a dreamlike visualization process. I came away with a clear vision of living in a community of women. I saw myself wrapped in a towel able to walk to swim. Swimming has always been important to me and a big contributing factor to picking Bacalar and this beautiful Laguna. This week I was up early and capturing the sunrise that is particularly lovely this time of year. Enjoy.
Up before dawn. Do you feel the heat from that sun?Such expressive clouds.
Last week was the celebration of 215 years of Mexican Independence. It coincides with our anniversary and one year since my accident.
Mexico’s presidenta Claudia Scheinbaum
For the first time, a woman led the ringing of the bell of independence in the central square of Mexico City to the cheers of thousands of people. The color guard was made up of women. Claudia Sheinbaum, Mexico’s first woman president, gave a powerful speech which included men and women, both indigenous and historical, who built this country.
She also welcomed migrants. Her approval rating is close to 80% and she has become a respected world leader. Mexico isn’t perfect but no country is. I am proud to call it home.
It was thirty-one years ago that she walked around the bar and into my life. Our friends nodded and smiled and knew it would never last. She was rough around the edges, not long out of the military. She smoked and drank and I did neither. I was twelve years older with three children. We both were still living with our exes. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
Our first Christmas 1994
And yet here we are, happier than ever, living our dream together. I’m not saying it hasn’t been work. We’ve learned to accept each other as we are, not tolerance but appreciation. There’s also the art of listening without feeling criticized and taking personal responsibility.
First Valentines Day 1995Wedding photos 1999Legal 2014
We have supported each other through major health crises, spending nights together in the hospital, even in one case, sleeping on the floor.
Back Surgery
All in all, it’s been a ride. Thirty-one years is worth celebrating. We certainly didn’t have a crystal ball that night in the bar when we laughed and flirted. If you’d have asked me if love at first sight existed I’d probably have scoffed. But ask me today, and I’d say yes, but it also takes a lot of damn work.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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