Oaxaca to San Cristobal de Las Casas

I was planning to meet up with Alex and Alison, a Malaysian couple on a BMW GS Adventure doing a world trip the same direction as me. We met in Mazatlan. Alex had given me the hotel name and street, but Oaxaca being another maze of one-way streets, had me circling for an hour before I found it. It was great to catch up. 

We talked and ate and walked through town and had a great meet up. I stayed for two nights and on the last morning we rode together to see this giant tree, arguably the biggest diameter tree in the world. Whether it is or not, certainly it was impressive.

The tree was on the edge of the city and fortunately it was on the way to the cascada petrificada, a stalactite-like waterfall made of calcium deposits over hundreds of years flowing down a cliff. Pretty impressive! 

We spent some time taking photos then we rode back towards the city and I stopped at the town of Mitla. This is the heartland of Mescal, a tequila-like drink made from the agave cactus. I found a nice little shop where they gave me some tastings and I bought a small bottle – for medicinal purposes – after taking some photos of their distilling operation. 

There are hundreds of small stills and businesses producing this drink and plantations of agave are dotted everywhere. In the centre of town was the square and a nice looking hotel so I went in to check prices. $780 pesos. I laughed.

‘This is Mexico, nobody pays those prices.’

I rode 300 metres up the road and found a hotel for 200 pesos. It was fine! The next morning I walked around the ruins that the town claims fame for and walked again through stall after stall of indigenous handcrafts. It’s lovely colourful stuff but I have no room to buy anything on the bike so I just look and try to explain over and over why I can’t buy. Good practice for my Spanish. It was a picturesque town with some ruins at the top.

Moving on again I headed for the Pacific Coast this time through one of the narrowest parts of Mexico. I loved Puerto Escondido a couple of months ago and was hoping that Salina Cruz might match it, but unfortunately I found a massive oil refinery dominating the coast and businesses. It was already late so I headed along the coast and found a string of beachfront restaurants but none had accommodation. The place had a rundown feel to it and appeared to be under the control of the petroleum companies. I rode back to the highway and found a ‘love’ motel where I negotiated a nightly rate (normally hourly – what no chica??) and ate an overpriced meal in the attached restaurant. It was a hot night with just a noisy fan so I had an uncomfortable sleep with three showers during the night to cool down. I left first thing in the morning.

 I followed the route I had ridden with Felipe, Fausto and Lana some months earlier towards San Cristobel De Las Casas, mainly because it was the only route through the mountains. 

Unlike last time I was not planning to do a 600km day so after 300kms through windfarm territory I climbed back into the mountains and stopped at another waterfall and finally pulled up in a lovely town on a river called Chiapa de Corzo that had the largest square I have seen in a small town with a very old structure in the middle. 

I once again found a budget hotel just by riding around, with good secure parking behind a locked gate. Walk, food, sitting and watching people, this seems to be my evening habit in a new town. There was an increase in the number of Indigenous people selling all sorts of crafts and clothing. I had passed into the state of Chiapas and I had been told that around San Cristobel was the highest concentration of Indigenous people in Mexico.

 Once again I only stayed the one night and it was less than 100kms to San Cristobel, so I took the mountain road and was greeted with some of the most amazing views of the trip. High up in the mountains were small towns of Indigenous folk and what really amazed me was the agriculture. These amazing people farm fruit and corn on incredibly steep slopes that a normal person would not be able to walk on. And the agriculture goes for miles and miles through multiple little towns winding high into the mountains. Every slope has trellises or corn planted to the roadside and perfectly distanced between the plants. 

Elderly men and women with hunched backs were carrying timber and produce along the roads and tracks or were working the fields along the slopes. Such hard work, such a difficult lifestyle. Fortunately for me it was warm and sunny but here it is not likely to be like this often, with some clouds starting to build around the peaks. The place fascinated me.

 Eventually I wound my way to San Cristobel and stopped in a recommended hostel that offers motorcyclists a free night. Yes please!