Pax Gaea Human Rights World Post

Morelia, Mexico to Patzcuaro, Mexico

The Quality Inn in Morelia puts out a very nice spread in their breakfast buffet and, I must confess, I over indulged. As we move deeper into Indigenous Country there are many more corn offerings including one dish I ate this morning which was ground corm meal rolled into the shape of a piece of corn. Man was it sweet! We had a great breakfast and put together a plan to be on the road by 11:00 a.m., to be in Patzcuaro by noon. Guess I was grazing too long at the buffet because we got back to the room around 11 a.m. and still had to pack up. We got the bags together as hastily as possible, and I wheeled everything out to Fabiola and was shocked to find it shining. Now I know the rain the night before was pretty hard, but this was impossible. It seems that a family makes a living going around washing the cars of the guests, and they leave it up to you to determine what the shine, or lavado, is worth. I had no idea so I consulted with the front desk and they gave me a price I thought was way too low so I threw in a little extra and they seemed very happy. I still feel like I got way too great a deal. Fabiola was covered in this thick gray mud cake since the frontier, but now she looks absolutely beautiful. I loaded up the bags and called my friend Eduardo Betancourt who was kenneling Rommel and he told me heÃ?d see me in 30 minutes.

While we were waiting for the doctor, I worked the phones trying to get up with the realtors we had been put in contact with. None of them had rentals available in Patzcuaro, and I was distressed to discover we may have to find some other cool little village in the area to lodge, which would be fine but not what we had hoped for. While we discussed our options, true to his word, Dr. Betancourt came roaring into the parking lot with Rommel safely ensconced in the dog box. He chided me for the crappy food I fed Rommel and put Rommel on a diet of Purina Pro Plan which, quite honestly, I had coming to me. I do feed Rommel lousy food but IÃ?m used to buying the stuff I buy for three dogs instead of one. We chatted for a bit and asked him his thoughts on rental properties in Patzcuaro. I told him my dilemma about the realtors and he immediately thought of someone who might have a rental in Patzcuaro. If we didnÃ?t mind following him back to his office he could get the number for us. We followed Eduardo through the now dry streets of Morelia -- without a doubt one of the prettiest big cities IÃ?ve ever visited -- and made our way to his clinic. It is a very attractive facility with the clinic on the bottom floor and the kennel on top. We chatted a bit more about the book plan, and he gave me the numbers for his friends and promised to try to get up with them today. Tomorrow IÃ?ll call Saida and Jose and, with any luck, weÃ?ll be in our new place by the beginning of next week.


Eduardo is a very brilliant guy. We chatted a bit about his work and my novel and an idea I had for him based on his rescue of Rommel -- a potential business opportunity that is desperately needed here in Mexico. I was amazed to discover, as well as being a vet, EduardoÃ?s specialty is veterinary surgery. Now, you think about the commitment this man has to dogs when heÃ?s tied up for hours on end operating on dogs, plus running his veterinary business, plus going out into terrible weather to rescue some Americans. This guy impresses me in ways few people do, and he and I are going to see if I can put my vast marketing skills to work on helping him create a great new service here in Mexico.

We finally got back on the road after taking a little loop around the town. Next time we get down here, Eduardo will take some time to show us around to the Ã?realÃ? Morelia, that special something that has kept him here all these years. We tanked up and hit the road for our last 40 kilometers of this part of our drive, flying along a wide four-lane highway and capping off the last few miles upon a gorgeous two lane. Making the turn into Patzcuaro gave me a sense of awe few places have. This old colonial town has been around since the 1600Ã?s yet, at every turn, we found mind-blowing architecture and those unmistakable whitewashed walls of the colonial town.

There are two very distinctive town squares in Patzcuaro; the first as you arrive hosts the permanent market that features local foods and handicraft from area craftspeople and farmers. The other, which includes the oldest University in North America (more on that later) and one of the oldest libraries features the Indian Market. From our initial glimpse this city is exactly what we had hoped for. Perhaps there is a sense of space, a need to find a remote destination as attractive as you hope to justify the journey but our initial impressions are all we had hoped for. We came to the end of town and the girls were in need of "facilities" so I took a left thinking IÃ?d find a Pemex on the edge of town after which we could resume our tour. Rather I found myself on the outskirts of town heading up into the mountains. I decided to turn around at the next turn off. The driveway we found led us instead into one of the lodgings we had on our list of pet friendly locations... Hacienda Mariposas.

We pulled up the cobbled driveway and parked and beheld in awe the beautiful broad greens before us. I leashed Rommel to walk him beyond the gates so as to not disrespect the request for Ã?"No Fumar Por FavorÃ?. After taking care of RommelÃ?s and my needs I returned to begin walking around the ground. Hacienda Mariposas stretches across a steep swath of land along a hillside with meticulously maintained yards, gardens and a livestock pen. The cobblestones snake along the perimeter of the property to a stable with a half dozen beautiful mounts. We inquired about possible lodging but the staff, like us, was not quite bi-lingual enough to communicate effectively and, from what we could gather, there was no lodging available. We had spotted a number of candidates back in town to check and were about to depart when El Jefe, Rene Ocana, arrived just as we about to leave. Rene is a striking, silver haired man who retired 11 years ago as a fiduciary trust manager with a contract for the valley and county of Sonoma, wine country, in California. He instructed the staff to make ready accommodations and told us to return in a little while to check in. He drew me a map of sites and restaurants in Patzcuaro to see while we waited.

We returned to the Indian Market Square and arrived just as the sky once again opened up. I fished out the rain gear and we toured the square despite the deluge. The recommended restaurant, alas, did not feature outdoor seating and as we had Rommel in tow, we settled for another cafe but I ordered the Sopas Tarasca, a local soup that is a staple of the Indian diet and was floored by its flavor. The best way to describe it is it is like liquefied bean soup with tortillas and cheese and it was absolutely addicting. Combining that with Huevos Oaxacataqueros, a dish with eggs and mole sauce, and I was in heaven.

We returned to the Hacienda Mariposas a few hours later, and the staff checked us into what I can only describe as one of the most beautiful suites I could ever imagine. The entryway is two large double doors with massive pull handles opening up to a beautiful central hall lined with books and comfortable seating. To the left, we step into this gorgeous sitting area with high vaulted ceilings crowned with skylights. We saw a bedroom with two double beds which we assumed we would be sharingÃ?? but we still hadnÃ?t bothered to notice a whole other half of the suite which contained this broad open office area and another huge bedroom with one of the largest beds I have ever seen. Both bathrooms are themselves works of art with tiled and painted sink basins. Rene is a man who loves art, and it is obvious in the decorum we encounter everywhere we look.

Though a short day by driving standards, we were all exhausted and the girls picked selections to read from ReneÃ?s well stocked library as Pen and I got the two fireplaces roaring, and we settled in with good books in art filled tranquility.

IÃ?ve given a lot of thought to this long, beautiful drive, and IÃ?ve concluded that nothing thrills me more than the road. Since I was a kid, when my truck driver dad would throw me in the cab of his rig or when he would load up the kids in the middle of the night and I would wake to the sound of the tires humming along the highway and open my eyes just enough to see dad pushing our truck and trailer somewhere down the road for a long evening, I have always been enchanted by long stretches of asphalt and concrete. As a young man, I was fortunate that my best friend was also a road dog like me and, we racked up tens of thousand of miles just because we felt the desire to launch into the desert in the middle of the night and see where the sunrise would find us. We would grab a quick bite and a dozen cups of coffee and turn around and head home, or some other direction if the spirit moved us. It wasnÃ?t about the destination that drove us to spin the odometer; it was the drive itself.

I must confess that, while writing the novel may have been the motivation to check out and move on to some secluded destination where we could let Thatcher finally come to life upon the printed page, it was my need to drive someplace new, far away and foreign that truly thrilled me. In a few days, with the help of friends, we will find a home to settle into and begin the process of animating our piratical golem. In the meantime, we will enjoy this hacienda life, visit the lake and furiously compose that first draft so I can reward myself with the next drive!. Target, Belize! While the girls may not get quite the same rush I do just being on the road, I do see the spark of the Carroll gene, that gypsy spirit so curious about what hides just over that next hill. Not everyone possesses it but, when you are fortunate to have a spouse who enjoys a great adventure and kids who, like it or not, possess within them a genetic marker that attracts them to highway signs, you know you have no choice but to give into that wanderlust and see where the roads will take you. This highway took me to a small mountainside paradise. The result of its inspirations will hopefully carry us towards a Xanadu waiting to be discovered, marveled and described. Patzcuaro is destination one in a wide-open world before us, Gaea willing.

It would then be only fitting that, here, in Patzcuaro, 3,000 miles from home on an adventure to write about my favorite pirate that I can quote from Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. "Steady as she goes, lads. Now.. bring me that horizon".

posted by Dave Carroll @ 8/13/2006 06:44:00 PM