Going The Distance

We interview Lyn on love in Paztcuaro’s town square. She never wanted to be a “wife”, saying she wanted a wife of her own, and so resisted Edward’s proposals – which started 3 hours after they met in a bar, and continued at a rate of one a week for 4 years. Finally she acquiesced and married him, and they have been totally happy ever since – expats by nature, they started in Guatemala, moving to Thailand for a few years, then back to Mexico, all over their 16 year relationship.

They had a plate made depicting their story with traditional Mexican skeletons

She said she called her mother after she got married, in Carson City, Nevada with their 10st St Bernard dog as a witness, “Why didn’t you tell me it would be like this? It’s magical!”. She loves being a wife now, and says it’s not 1+1, but being “to the power of two”: anything they believe they can do, they can do. Nothing can stop them. Though Edward is now ill and has to remain on constant oxygen, and is unable to leave the house. It must be incredibly hard on both of them, I say, and she agrees – but demonstrates no less fervour in her deep love for him. In sickness and in health indeed.

We have another massive day’s driving (I think this may be the theme for the next few months, certainly the next few weeks as we try to get to Panama for October 26th, my 30th birthday). We stop briefly in Morelia, another very very beautiful city, then onwards to Mexico City (“DF” as it is called – districto federal”)

First, we get very very lost in a place called Toluca, an hour outside Mexico City. Signs from the Cuota direct us towards Mexico and lead us into the impoverished suburbs of Mexico. Not ideal. Our host, awaiting our arrival, has the good grace not to inform us of his concern over texts we are sending each other. One hour later, and dusk, we find our way back from the backroads onto the Cuota.

Mexico City is MASSIVE. Still the biggest city in the world, we are told. It sprawls. Really. In such a way that even the locals get lost, let alone the Brit idiots without a map (or a GPS. RIP – in Vegas). But what a great city. It’s alive the minute you enter it. All gleaming skyscrapers and monuments. The traffic, as we have been warned, is solid. Apparently the Mexican government lets cars with different number plates in on different days to try and calm it, but it doesn’t seem to be working particularly well. The one bonus is that, as we sit in very sluggish traffic, a taxi driver draws level with us and yells out in Spanish “you’re the couple driving from Alaska to Patagonia! I heard about you on the radio in Guadalajara!”. Fame, how unexpectedly you knock.

We arrive late to our host, a friend-of-a-friend (which has very much been the theme of our time in Mexico. This time, thank you Flo), Roberto, who we go out for dinner with and generally celebrate the joys of this great city.

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