The Whirlwind of the North
Saturday 13th December 2008
The long, lonely highway stretches north into ever-desolate landscapes. Deserts, mountains, mile upon mile of choked up pastures. Everything scorched and dead under the rainless winter sun.
This is a lesser visited Mexico. A land of cattle ranches and endless expansive vistas, weird horizons, weird rocks and weird towns crumbling under their own isolation.
This is a Mexico of rugged sentiments and rugged people, where Pancho Villa – the legendary bandit and womaniser turned revolutionary – is the quintessential folk hero, storming through on horse-back and accompanied by his faithful ‘Division del Norte’.
Viva Pancho Villa! Viva the Centaur of the North! ...read more
The north: mile upon mile of empty landscape.
Warrior butterflies and Little Old Men: The Changing Face of Michoacán
Friday 5th December 2008
Clouds of bright orange butterflies pour through the sky like storms of ash, carpeting the earth and weighing down the trees in dense, flaming clusters. They surround and swallow me like swirling curtains of fire, and as they burst into flight, the sound of rippling wings purrs through the air surreally.
The Monarch butterflies have returned to their over-wintering home in the pine-swathed highlands of Michocán, completing an astonishing annual pilgrimage from Canada. Three generations and 4500km comprise their journey and one of nature’s strangest, most astonishing feats.
The ancients revered these delicate creatures, who they believed were the souls of warriors and ancestral spirits in transit. Observing their ethereal and entrancing flight, it’s not hard to see why. Cyclical change, profound transformation, flight, and strange, spiritual journeys are all obvious metaphors. ...read more
The butterflies are most active in February, during which time they mate and die, leaving the subsequent generation to return north to Canada.
Fear and Loathing in Acapulco
Thursday 27th November 2008
The Bay of Acapulco after dark is a seductive and strangely hypnotic spectacle.Clusters of glimmering lights illuminate the hills like some rare jewel-encrusted tiara, silhouettes of great yachts dance upon the dark waters, and party cruisers criss-cross the waves on some spirited adventure, adorned with blazing neon hearts.
Nearby, on the shores and beaches, revellers drink rum and groove to the easy rhythms of Copacabana. ...read more
The Bay of Acapulco, alive with legends of glamour and sleaze.
Blood, Blind Belief and the Devil's Book of Spells: Sorcery in Los Tuxtlas
Sunday 23rd November 2008
Several decades ago, tracts of dense, impassable rainforest consumed the southernmost stretches of Veracruz state, barely penetrated by roads or humanity. Only a few obscure settlements lay hidden in the miles of ravenous foliage, teeming canopies and bursting vegetation skirting the Gulf of Mexico.
Today, southern Veracruz is a less dramatic land of rolling cattle pastures, remote highways and terminally poor, sluggish villages.
Yet you can still encounter vestiges of that dark world of old: crocodile-infested lagoons, jungle-shrouded rivers, abundant bird life and luxuriant swimming holes all punctuate the deep green – and stiflingly humid – tropical landscape. ...read more
In spite of the deforestation, there is still a definite beauty to southern Veracruz
Hot with Music
Sunday 16th November 2008
Veracruz is a city with a Caribbean soul, soaked up with feisty rhythms, feisty people, fierce sunshine, salsa and beautiful spirited madness. Veracruz is hot with music - sensuous and sensual - a city for dancers, drinkers and drunks.
Part grotty industrial port, part elegant colonial jewel, Veracruz derives its endless energy from the melodies spilling through its streets. Guitars intoxicate the terraces, marimbas swallow the plazas in one gulp, and Cuban-style bands play out their passions in bars and dimly-lit cafeterias across the city. ...read more
The driving rhythms of the marimba fill the plazas and cafes.
Rusted Ships and Flying Dancers: Tuxpan and Papantla
Sunday 9th November 2008
Northern Veracruz is a land wrapped in heat and heavy vegetation, winding rivers, exuberant foliage and tropical fruit trees – bananas, papayas, mangos, avocados and plantain – all rising from a bed of ravenous grass and wildly twisting creepers.
In an obscure corner of an obscure state I find myself in the city of Tuxpan – a regional population centre and relatively unknown destination that’s completely off the tourist radar.
Clinging to the banks of wide slow river, this fishing town and minor oil port possesses a friendly, provincial charm. The eyes are still innocent, the smiles are still warm, and there’s courtesy towards strangers. ...read more
A lone fisherman trying his luck, Tuxpan.
Alone on a bus
Saturday 8th November 2008
Alone in the back of a nearly empty bus, speeding along the toll highway north out of Mexico City. The last vestiges of the great capital cling to the sides of the hills with a thousand unpainted boxes. A shivering patchwork of concrete and shadows.
Vast swathes of soporific maize adorn the mountains and fields, sighing and wilting under the harsh wintry sun - a blanket of dead stalks and parched grasslands punctuated only by coarse cacti, spiny maguey and crumbling farmhouses. ...read more
The dark mountains outside the capital fading into the night.