And hopping onto the last slippery stone

... and on I went. The last glance from the chickenbuswindow over the lake (whilst swirling around curves, the driver listening to bad-taste rancheros and the second guy somewhere on the roof securing baggage) was accompanied by a tear or two... Huehue didn't offer much, but as it was just for one night I did not really mind. I crossed the border between Mexico and Guate by foot as the taxis seemed to expensive and the distances too short. I had to wait however for quite a time in order to get a bus to San Cristóbal de las casas. Good. So I met a lot of the local bordertown Youth and had time to answer many interesting and silly questions about where in the US this place called Italy lies and so on. San Cristóbal was very nice. I arrived at the city in the middle of the night and went straight to Posada Dona Rosita, home of a nice old lady that knows a lot about herbs and natural medicines and has a strong opinion about the whole mess up around the indigenous populations in confrontation with globalization. SCdlC surprised my in general. It appears that the conflicts (nowadays fought on political grounds) created a very fertile territory in this city. During my stay I was not only able to enjoy loads of vegetarian food in cultural centres that were bars and restaurants at the same time. I was also able to enjoy live music in different bars (a special bless to the most excellent waitress in Bar Revolución) AND read a first time a Spanish poem in public. And that happened like that: I went with Esben, a Danish fighter that stayed in the same posada to a poetry reading. There were five poets reading and the offer for every one in the public to join in. As I got really angry about one table in the middle of the room - the typical "weareheretodrinkandenjoyourselvesfuckpoetry" crowd- I put some ten lines onto paper and read them straight out. I did not have the success I wanted: Quite some people congratulated me afterwords -especially the other poets, of course, as I put honey on their wounded selfesteem- but the agressors did not even notice!! Malditos sean.
from San Cristóbal I went into the surrounding forests quite some times. I went to meet the Zapatistas and did crazy tours through blessed nomansland where I saw guys in very strange rituals. But as known from Guatemala, the indigenous population is very friendly, open and talkative as soon as the first shyness is gone.

In the next world
I eill be what I always wanted to be:
a little mushroom
that speaks seven languages.
Can you imagine how it woukld be
for you to swallow me
after carefully grinding me with your front teeth?
Believe it or not
this could just be a prediction for a different fiction.
Fricccccction is what makes us grind and find
a new heat for the following
downbeat.
C'mon cheat on your selfinflicted soberness
c'mon caress your head and dress for success
with colourful a mess in your head!

dAn 250807SanPedro

My next station -rather a drive and walkthrough- was Tuxtla. I only visited the Zoo and that was it. Apparently it is one of the best in animal rights. That might be... but they got so much space that you only see those who want to be seen. So seeing the "ideal zoo" did not make me as happy as I thought. It rather gave my a final solution: You are not a zoo person. Better keep sitting in the middle of the rainforest in silence. You see more and live.
From Tuxtla it went to Oaxaca. I was charged with loads of information my friend Christian Stecher provided for. But I was already in a bit of a hurry and could not do all I wanted to. Nevertheless I was able to taste all the hot chocolate I wanted to and visit quite a few exquisite places and exhibitions. Furthermore I was able to get q first hint of what would accompany my last two weeks in Mexico: Loads of flags and national colours! September is the patriotic month in Mexico with its peak on 15th the día de la independencia which I was able to celebrate at the Zócalo in Mexico city.

But before that I had to see one last natural wonder. I went to Chacahua. Close to the well known surfer paradise Puerto Escondido it is a natural paradise with the same big waves rolling but quietness, fresh fish and a landscape that invites to stay. I met a very nice guy from Rome who spoke basically only his city's dialect... It was veeeery interesting to see how he interacts with locals and other foreigners. When I close my eyes and think of Chacahua I can still hear the big waves crushing onto the beach.
Accepting my fate I left the enchanted island four days later. Straight to Puebla was the message. There was Ana Lucía waiting. I had met her and her brother at the tour I took from Palenque to the ruins of Bonampak and Yaxchilan. I had a few wonderful days there with loads of perfect food! I wonder why Mexico did not make me fat and fatter ;) Ana was the perfect tour guide. She showed me around whenever she had a free minute and will always put this extra colour onto my memory of Puebla, a city I would otherwise have skipped. After a weekend plus one day I went to the defectuoso. To DF. To Mexico City. First night in Hostal World. All had changed, even the manager, so it was just for one day. Just in order to go across the main street next morning to greet the guys from Taller Ditoria, the best book printing on small artistic scale ever! Those guys and their 19th century printing device create only pieces of art one would love to have! Then I moved a little bit further away from the centre to Ciudad Jardin where my friend Monica lives with her boyfriend and another girl in a little house. As it is in direction of Xochimilco I was finally able to see this city that has partially Venice-like ways of transport.
But as always when time is running out, I was very fast coming to the end of my time without getting a chance to do half the stuff I wanted to do in Mexico city. Anyhow. On saturday I moved to Hostal Amigo in Isabela la Católica. That is because of the night of the 15th. I wanted to celebrate at the main square which is only a few blocks away. I thought I would be forced by my mexican friends to drink and did not want to be too far from a bed. Wrong. None of the Mexicans I knew and none of those that my friend Katha knew wanted to share the Zócalo experience... they were all happy to be far away from it. I thought as a tourist and being in the city and so on, I could not miss it. And not miss it I did! I actually enjoyed it! Loads of people, but not as many as predicted, two gritos de la independencia and thereby a historical moment, a lot of protest and coverup, fireworks that would have fed all the poor in latinamerica and a festive crowd.
Afterwords we went back to the hostel were a party was going on.
I however was awarded by the moment and my decision of honouring every single one and had a very pleasant and intense talk with a priestess of breath. A talk that went on the next evening after a day I spent in pain: my dreads needed a lil redoing, the flying hair went into the existing ones. Six hours long did my mate Tonka a good job.
On monday I went for a last bit of shopping with Monica and then fought all alone my way to the airport with too much luggage and a lot of sweat. ("Is it raining outside, or why are you so wet?")
When the evening darkness fell over Mexico city I went through a gate without being searched by the awaiting customs officers and left officially Mexico on the 17th September 2007.

An embarrasing big jump.-.... to Lago Atitlán!

Hello again!
No, I was not kidnapped by pirates, I only went to Isla Mujeres and met one of the most impressive kinds of that controversial species of humankind... but that could not stop me travelling on either. No sense in trying to grab and freeze any moment... the beouty in this world comes from the waterfall effect: everything is so incredible beautyful because it will never ever be the same again.
But back to travelling:
Isla Mujeres rocks, my first real caribbean experience, and I tell you, I was astonished when I found out, that the caribbean sea is actually even more beautiful than I thought! Coral blue is just my color ;)
I spent a few days at Isla, waiting for my flight from Cancun to Kingston via Habana. I had a one day stay in La Havana with the perfect guide waiting for me. We did a splendid rapid tour of the city and was joined by two handsome ladies from Austria and Switzerland.
Then it was off to Jamaica. What a pleasant surprise! I had some fears beforehand, that a white Rasta might not be welcomed very friendly by the local brothers, but at the contrary! I fell in love with Kingston downtown just as much as with the beautiful and nearly tourist-free eastcoast down from Port Antonio to the place of the first uprising, Morant Bay. I spent a few nights in Hostels (very scarse) and some in the houses of brethren. To alladem mi thanx an blessings! My first few steps I did in company of a Israely couple but after four days the loner syndrome was strong enough to get me going on. I was astonished to be able to dance at Passapassa at five o'clock in the morning in Kingston downtown without ever feeling threatened. To find that the Georgie named in a song we all know chilling at the Bob Marley Museum and listening to me reciting a poem. To find so much delicious ital food and great fish dishes.

With a little tear in my eye I left the island to go back to Cuba, where I met with my friend Katha. We spent ten days in Cuba, going all the way to Santiago and Trinidad. It was very interesting and I often had to make myself believe, that I am actually there, in Cuba, in Habana, in Santiago.... But then I got a bad ache... wisdomteeth... well, down to bananas in mashed up forms I was longing for healthy soups and similar stuff.... a very difficult task in Cuba... Transportation, places to stay and food are maybe the three parts that make this wonderful island a hard trip, but there is obviously a lot to see and experience that you cannot do anywhere else by now. So it is worth the hardship, I guess... Even though: do not expect to find too much revolutionary spirit...
After our excursion into the last stand of socialism I went directly from Cancun to Playa del Carmen, where I was getting a helpful hand making my backpack lighter: someone stole my camera. A big loss I grieved for some days, but I think by now I am quite fine without a camera.
From Playa I moved to Tulum, a place I would have liked to stay longer at, but my childhood friend Paddy was for a few day in Guatemala city, so I had to move on in order to meet him. I crossed through Belize in five days, had a splendid Jamaica revival and met some good guys on the streets. Furthermore I discovered a good dubpoet for myself: The grandmaster of Belize. He rocks. The best about Belize was the ruins of Lamanai after a one hour boat trip up the river.

Then I crossed into Guatemala. Tikal. The best ruins ever, especially if you take your time and do the outer circle first and come to the plaza mayor when most people have gone and sunset lightens up templo 1... a wonderful moment I shared with two nice Dutch guys that I had met at the border. From here I took a nightbus to Guatemala city where I met Paddy and we had two glorious nights in the biggest capital of central america. On a hot wednesday morning I went on a chickenbus to Antigua to meet Amy, who I had already encountered in Isla. Right the night when I came to town the vulcán del fuego had a rather big eruption. We sat at Sky Bar, drank a sundowner and enjoyed the unique experience. So the next day I went up vulcán Pacaya. There is also a little lava glowing up there... A cool experience to stand so close to it... well, rather a hot experience, to be truthful. But I had to go in a group, a thing I do not like very much.
Amy and I travelled on together. To Atitlán. The lake I am still staying on... Not because I want to stay in every little village on the lake, no! But that scenery around here definitely has a hard impact on me... We spent close to a week meditating in Las Piramides in San Marco which some call new age hypocrisy. I would rather call it a splendid place to come closer to your shaked up badly civilized self... and bring some tranquility and love into yourself. Yes, that is what I would call it. Now I am in San Pedro, staying at Trippy's hostel and joking with many friendly people from all over the world. I had a good trip up vulcano San Pedro all alone and up Cabeza delñ Indio with a group from the hostel.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, tomorrow in the morning I will go on... to Huehuetenango and from there to the Mexican border.

Take care, have fun,
one love and blessings
dAn on Atitlán

big jump... all the way to Yucatán!

Hello again!

Traveller's fever... Yes that keeps me on the move... from the last blog -which actually seems ages away- till today many cities have passed by and many buses brought me down South...

But one after the other.

From Zacatecas I went to San Luis Potosí, slept the one and only time in a Hotel that cost 250 Pesos, about 25 USDolars. The next day I went to Real de Catorce, the haunted city. I wandered quite a bit on my own through the arid hills, partially waiting for the call of the peyote but mostly enjoying the holy mountain and the tranquility. It was very hot. One day I decided to go horseback and race a bit through the vast nothing they call desert but it didn't work out quite that well as I had to take a guide with me and it just felt like a taxi... ticktack, the taxometer is working... So at the end I went a second time to la Quemada in order to leave an offering from dead plants I collected on the way up and put together right there. The meditation in the shadow of a cactus was a very pleasant one.

After leaving this offering on the hill la quemada I went Southwards. Back to the big polluted hell, back to the heavenly city, back to D.F., to Mexico city!

I spent about a week there. This time in a Hostel between Condesa and Roma, in a quiet street with loads of trees. What a change from the crowded and loud historic centre! I visited once again the Taller Ditoria and took some average pictures. I read quite a bit of the jewels they produce and Jorge was way too kind and gave me two books as a gift! I haven't got the foggiest how I could possibly give him something equivalent back! These works are just solid pieces of art!

I met Katha and some friends of her and had a good time with the guys from the Hostal too. Only the nightlife was less fancy than I expected. But this might have to do with us not wanting to spend more than on daytime, whilst Mexican nightlife can be just as expensive as in central Europe...

After DF and much modern and avantguarde art it was once again back to the ancient art, which can compete easily! I went to Xalapa in Veracruz and saw the beautiful stoneheads of the Tolmecs. I met a very nice Italian guy who lives in Mexico. Furthermore I met a goodlooking Mexican lady who came to my table just to tell me I was the love of her life. That was all, two minutes later she left without leaving any catcheable trace... That was my first encounter with attractive intelligent and interested beauty in this country where obesity is no new word and literacy does not mean literature...

I went on to Catemaco instead of going to the seatown of Veracruz, as Gianluca, the Italian tourguide I met was insisting on the beauty of this laketown. And he was right. Here I did not only eat the cheapest and most fresh oysters ever, I also met a very nice Italian couple, Christiana and Michele who have a Pizzetería on the lakeside. They invited me to stay a few days at their villa. I gladly did that and had a very pleasant time.

But I had to go on... After a quick stop at Villahermosa who just didn't feel as beautiful as her name told, I went straight on to Palenque. How good! Finally no more city sightseeing but pure rainforest and ruins. I enjoyed it very much to live in El Panchan and get to know quite a few of the people who travel and live from the money they make with the cheap jewellery they produce. Here I got to know Sanya and Samuel who got a Piercing and Tatoo studio (now moving to Oaxcaca) and introduced me to the experience of a Mayan cleansing. I began to see things differently once again and I think people and forest had both their part in this process of reawakening. Here I did my first group tour. It was the cheapest way to see the ruins of Bonampak and Yaxchilan (beautifully laid on the hills next to the river that divides Mexico and Guatemala) and the forest of the Lacandonians.

After more than a week between waterfalls, ruins, hippies and mayans it was time to go on to Campeche. I was positively surprised by the cleanliness and conservation of historic buildings as for example the town walls. Here I slept in one of the best hostels so far. Overlooking the tranquil central square I slept for 80pesos with breakfast included and met very nice people. The second night I was dining and drinking deliciously with a crowd made up by people from Canada, Israel, USA, Japan and Argentina. They convinced me the third day to come with them to see the ruins of Edzna and I was surprised. I thought after Yaxchilan that I will see no more ruins as there can't be no better sight. But it was a completely different one and definitely worth the time. The next night -which I was able to sleep for free due to a special offer- we met Monica, a chilanga, a girl from DF, which was there to get a grant she won. Next afternoon I went with her to Mérida where I stayed for a few days, waisting money I don't have. I already bought everything one has to buy from this city... a hammock, perfect but expensive, a traditional shirt and a mayan ritual cleansing stone.

From Merida I went with Monica and her sister to even more ruins. Chichen Itza. I was happy that we got a free entry as Monica's sister works there in restauration, because it was definitely not worth the double price.
From here we took a second class bus to Valladolid. A day between bicicles, hot weather and cool cenotes (swimmingpools in caves) awaited for us.

Zacatecas

Quite some sand seems to have run
down the hourglass
I am sorry
and I
am
not
.



Because I had a wonderful time and did not spend too much time in internet cafes.
After San Blas ( I had to flee the sand flea and the mosquito in its multipluous form ) I went to the next big beach resort on the way northwards: Mazatlán. It was good to buy some books and very good to compare the bliss of the low touristic site I left with the concrete desert I stumbled into. Soon I had enough. The people in Mazatlán keep very much to themselves and so all I met was a construction worker who was from elsewhere and who spent his free sunday just like me: walking the city and the cliffside. My next station should have been Los Mochis. But as I met a doctor on the bus who had worked in Los Mochis and the little city of El Fuerte close by, she told me to go on, as Los Mochis has apparently nothing to show but expensive hotels. I followed her advice and slept for 50 pesos in El Fuerte. I visited the local fort which gave the name to the city and I visited stone carvings from the first human beings in this area. I lost myself in this dry land full of cacti and could not think of anything better than take even more pictures than usual.



Next morning I took the second class train to Creel. It was a nice ride and I had to get back into contact with other European tourists. At first it was quite a shock, but then there was this lovely Dutch girl and I got accostumed to English and blue eyes again.
Creel is a very little city on the edge of the copper canyon and some others. It looks like a modernized Western city and you wait all the time for the cowboys on horses. Actually I saw some galloping up the mainroad at nighttimes. They were pissed and didn't care for sparkling hoves.
Next day I went with a very nice French couple, Pia and Olivier, with Johnty from the Isle of Man and the already mentioned Dutch girl Willemijn in a rented car down the copper canyon. It was hell for our bones and a paradise for our eyes. Cameras complained about abuse and overusage, and the rocks just stood there solemnly.
We came to Bato Pilas -a very tiny place down the canyon- shortly before night fell. Therefore we could not catch the long dreamed fish, but still, we had a good meal and an excellent fire.
This was the first night I slept on the open. The stars where my roof and the fire my company. It was wonderful.
When we were back in Creel the next day, I felt I had enough rough rides and planned a biking tour for the next day. Something simple. Johnty came with me to the warm springs of Rekowata. Well, nobody told us, that the last 3 kilometers were a rough ride down a rocky street which was that steep, that even a mountaingoat like the alpine author of this blog could ride it back to the top. Still. This was not enough. Whilst my companion was intelligent and went home to the hostel, I kept myself on the bike and went to the Mission of San Ignacio. Nothing spectacular. But from there I went on into the wrong direction and soon found myself in the middle of an indigenous community which did speak very little Spanish. Finally I was down to communication with hands and feet, to an empty water bottle and an increasingly darkening sky. Wonderful. I did my best to get back to Creel, thought a few times about giving up but got safely to the first supermarket where I bought more water and Gatorade than I could carry. How happy the little I was, when its first semireal experience of thirst was coming to its end!!



Next day the two of us took a bus to Chihuahua. Already on the bus I met a very nice and welcoming teacher -Gaby- from that area who went home to her parents for the weekend. She took us to a cheap hotel and wanted to take us to a party that night which was at last not possible because her car did not want to be part of that game. So we saw a first bit of the city and went afterwards to the bar adjacent to the hotel. After drinking a few beers and having a quite interesting discussion Johnty and I were welcomed into a big group of people who sat next to us. This is how we met Idaly, Carlos, Ricardo and so many more good chaps who made our stay in Chihuahua a very special one! They took us to parties and discoteques, to the local mine full of stalagmites and stalactites and other fancy stone formations... basically they organised and animated our whole stay in Chihuahua and we had a great time together. After way too much Mezcal for my poor body, behaviour and brain it was finally time to say good bye. Johnty went northwards to the states of terror and further up to Canada, where by now he is hopefully having a happy time.



Myself put his body on a bus to Zacatecas. It was time for some serious silver and mining business. But no. Silver I saw little till now, even though they are apparently exporting about 10 pecent of the world's silver and the mine was a touristy set up in comparison to the one I saw in Chiahuahua. But. and there comes the big BUT. The city reminds me of Guanajuato, the most lovely sight I had on this journey so far) and it has definitely the best art muesums I have seen outside of DF sofar. Furthermore the Hostal has a perfect terrace with direct view to one of the splendid cathedrals. What more do you want?
A grill party? I had it the first night I came to the hostel?
Nice company? Every day.
So what keeps me from staying?
Travellers' fever...



Cities at first light
waking from a night
that was never there
in streets that might just care
for some light all day
keeping clouds at bay
n rain n season's wind

do you get the hint?
No.
Dough!

But for that
and the sleeping cat
there are street signs
tower high
everywhere when and why

- DO BREATHE -

Thank you and goodbye
or rest in peace


dAn1036160507Zacatecas

From Guadalajara over Tepic to San Blas

May.
May the month of May
begin and bring
all the blessings
we deserve!




I am in the lil fishing town San Blas. Notorious for its sand fleas and mosquitos it is a quiet beach resort with long but small waves. Not that I am surfing, but anyway. I have a nice little cabaña on the seaside and enjoy the nature. Especially the boat tour into the jungle was great fun.


Talking of being away of the cities I have to mention the last stages:
Tepic wasn´t much of a show, apart from Jesus on the hill and the beautifully dressed up children on the street.
Guadalajara was better, but only from the point of the usual male desire for birdspotting. The second biggest city is quiet provincial and expensive.
No, not this one down there, this is not one of the birds I spotted in Guadalajara, this one was in the crocodile sanctuary in the jungle near San Blas.



Now
I am lazy
enjoying the rolling and flowing
of the waves.
But I will leave
before my feet
get webbed
..
.

Guanajuato

I left the city.
Spending two weeks in one of the biggest cities of the world on quite an altitude and breathing smog all the time was a new experience for a lil rasta from the central alps. But even though I made some brilliant encounters, like having tea with professor and poet Marco Antonio Campos and walking the city with the artist Christian Stecher. The first gave me a copy of his beautiful shortstories and the latter introduced me to Jorge Jímenez in Taller Ditoria, a group of printers working with a 19th century printing machine. Even on respects of a possible doctorate I made some progress on the vast fields of the UNAM, the university of Mexico city.
I took a first class bus to Guanajuato. But as it took me 2 hours to get three CDs burned in the slowest internetspot of DF, I did not get the bus I wanted to. However, this was a very good thing to happen. Not only did I eat my first tamales (Food, wrapped into a leaf of Mais or a palmlaef) but I also met an Indian linguist who was really interesting to talk to even if he was quite out of his mind cause he was robbed the night before. Furthermore it was only by taking this bus that I was able to meet two Spanish girls and their Cuban friend who brought me to a party minutes after arriving at Guanajuato. I stay in a really nice Hostal where I have a whole dormitory of ten for me alone. The charm of the city is overwhelming, I already know quite some local students and it is good, that I have to go on, because I already met an Italian, who goes into his second year at the place.




The city of colors
on the hills
of wealth
is breathing
is leaning
is gripping
is sitting
and sees time go by
no reason why
it should move
or grove
As just by being
it is a poem and the king.


dAn1200210407

Por mi culpa, por mi máxima culpa.

Hello again. Yes, you probably think: has this guy no life to live? Why is he writing yet again?
well, to say it as it is: more than ten to twelve hours a day on the road seeing new stuff is not really a good idea. The sense of being tired can be explored anew. And what better way - in an awfully nice hostel, yet full of partypeople - than on the free internet?
well. to make a long story short. today I met a mexican Professor and Poet, Marco Antonio Campos, and a German girl who meets him every now and then, Bernadette, she is working for homeless children in the outskirts. It was a whole different idea of Mexico I got from speaking to a poet. It showed me way more, than "¡¡Eres italiano, que bueno!!"

On friday I went to the passion plays in Itzapalapa where between many crosses, much incense and Roman cavallery, the city was celebrating the cruzification of Christ. It was qute impressive and of huge dimensions.
In the afternoon I made a completely different experience. I went off the touristical tracks and soon found myself in the middle of a barrio that was a complete ruin and seemed to be populated by people who made a living by seperating trash. Frankly I was quite happy that I had left my camera to recharge...

In the evening I went to eat a little fish, but tiredness and the lack of whitewine made it a short story. Just and exactly as this one.