9/5/15, “An
Old Friend, and a New One”
Benito
Juarez International Airport, Mexico (MEX)
One of the
most common themes I present in this Travelogue is the idea of the unfamiliar
within the familiar and the familiar within the unfamiliar. Sitting here, in this very familiar
concourse, I am embarking on the unfamiliar.
On each of my last two trips to Mexico, this concourse has meant that I
was going home. In fact, six months ago,
I sat at this very gate, this very seat I think, as I prepared to board my
flight back to New York. Today, I am
flying outbound to Guadalajara, the first of my Mexico WHS runs that was not
based out of the Federal Disctrict.
I
will have to take somewhere between 4 and 7 more trips to Mexico before I can
say, “Mexico Complete.” A lot more of
them will involve a stop here, and others will be different entirely, as I
continue to mix the familiar and the unfamiliar. I am dead tired and just want to get on the
plane, so I can sleep until I meet Enrique and can pass out in his car for the
four hour drive that will begin our journey together.
After I closed last night, I got an
overpriced ice cream and soda. I then
sat down to write a personal journal entry.
I was on my first sentence when I heard my name called. They had managed to get me an exit row window
seat, and, it turned out, the middle seat was empty. I managed to quickly write my journal entry
before I had to board. It took me a
while to fall asleep, but, as soon as I did, I felt like no time had passed
before I woke up as we were making our descent.
As we landed, I checked my watch, and it said 5:20 AM. Okay, just 10 minutes late, I thought, plenty
of time to make my connection.
It took me
a while to remember the time zone change.
We weren’t 10 minutes late. We
were 50 minutes early. I’d have time to
kill, lots of time to kill. That wasn’t
good. I don’t like risking sleeping in
an airport for a short period of time.
I’d rather have been asleep on the plane for that extra hour. I then went towards border control, and
something was different, well, two things, actually. First, I was on the right side, not the left
side as I had previously been. Second,
where was the long line? There had
always been a horribly long line to go through Immigration. There were only a half dozen or so people in
front of me. When it was my turn, we
went through the process without exchanging a single word, except maybe a thank
you. I picked up some cigars at
duty-free, cleared customs, went back through security, and found some
outlets.
 |
| Breakfast |
No, this wouldn’t do. There were three hours before my flight, and
I was already airside. I had over two
hours to kill. I wanted a cigar. Could I smoke anywhere in the terminal? Too tired and groggy to properly understand
any Spanish or even speak it that well, I asked one of the security guards
where I could smoke. He appeared to be
looking for a secluded area in the airport for me to hide and have a smoke, but
then he told me I had to go outside. I
took a pass on that. Instead, I got a
couple more cigars and went to get breakfast, finding a French bistro where I
could sit down and kill an hour or so. I
ordered something called a “Croque Madame,” basically grilled cheese with green
eggs and ham, I mean, ham and a fried egg, like all in one sandwich. It was really good, as was the coffee I got
with it. I soon proceeded to the gate,
still two hours before my flight, where I proceeded to write this entry, which
I will now close so that I can try to kill another hour before it’s time to
board.
Zacatecas,
Zacatecas, Mexico
I have
decided to rename this trip. Most of the
WHS I visit this trip will be part of or be associated with the Royal Route or
Camino Real. It was a trade route
focused predominantly on silver in the middle of the last millennium. Here, in Zacatecas, I am at the heart of it,
where much of the silver was mined. It is
a lovely city, and I am allowing myself some extra time, even though it will
mean a later arrival at the hotel.
After I closed at Benito Juarez, I
found a newly effective way to sleep at the airport, and it was soon time to
board. I think I slept through most of
the flight, and I was soon in Guadalajara.
As soon as I left the airport, my old friend was waiting for me, and we
greeted each other like old friends. I
told him the plan, and he hemmed and hawed, like he always does, before
agreeing to the plan. He had gifts for
me, well, maybe not gifts since I have to pay for them, but he had ten cigars he
picked up before he left the Federal District.
 |
| Lunch |
Once we got on the highway, I lit up my traditional first cigar, the
Davidoff Escurio, and blared Red. Our
first stop was a town called Encarnacion de Diaz, where my new friend had told
me there was a WHS Plaque for the Royal Route.
I made this friend on Instagram, through our shared love a WHS
sites. He said it was right in the
cemetery, so that was where I told Enrique to take me. We got lunch first, pork sandwiches that took
forever to make, and the cemetery was a block away.
 |
| Where the plaque was |
I lit up an H. Upmann Epicure and headed to
the cemetery. No plaque. The lady at the souvenir shop said it was at
the municipal building, so we headed there.
The guards said there was no plaque there, nor could we find it, and my
Instagram friend insisted it was at the cemetery, so we headed back there. Long story short, the plaque had been taken
down because they received word it was about to be stolen, and it was no inside
the municipal building, which is closed on the weekend.
 |
| Encarnacion de Diaz |
However, it was still part of a WHS, so I got
my souvenirs and took the ceremonial pictures.
We then headed to Zacatecas, and I messaged back and forth my Instagram
friend, who had now become a Facebook friend.
We made plans to do a WHS run together on a future trip to Mexico. As we got into Zacatecas, where there were
alleged to be two plaques, including one for the Royal Route, we drove through
downtown, and I saw the first plaque.
 |
| Zacatecas |
The inscription photo was of the Cathedral, so we drove past the plaque
and continued to the Cathedral. I got my
souvenirs, lit up a Romeo y Julieta, and then took my ceremonial pictures in
front of the Cathedral. There was a
coffee shop with outdoor seating in view of the Cathedral, so I sat down there,
where I proceeded to write this entry and order a coffee. I will now close so that I can finish
exploring the city.
Jalpan de
Sierra, Queretaro, Mexico
Just as I
have decided to rename this trip, I am also renaming the day’s entry. I had initially named it “My Old Friend” in
reference to reuniting with Enrique.
However, I think I might have spent more time interacting with my new
Facebook friend than I did with Enrique, so I would be remiss not to rename the
entry. It is almost 2 AM local time, and
I am dead tired, so I will summarize as much as possible.
The thing about Mexico and their plaques is
that most WHS in Mexico are located in or simply are a famous historic city,
and, like in Cuba, every famous, historic city has a famous, historic church
with a big plaza in front. More often
than not, that is where the plaque is.
That is where I am sitting right now in the appropriately named UNESCO
Plaza. Mexico and Canada respect their
plaques in a way that the United States never does. I can’t think of one US Plaque that is
displayed in good location. Parking
lots, bathrooms, secluded areas of the VC, or even storage closets. That is where the US puts their plaques. Canada finds the most scenic vista in the
entire WHS that is easily accessible and puts the Plaque right there. Mexico, as I described, in the main plaza of
the town, such as the one where I am sitting right now.
 |
| Zacatecas plaque |
After I closed, I walked back to find my
plaque in Zacatecas, took some ceremonial pictures, failed to find the other one,
and headed back to find Enrique. We
drove to the other plaque, but it was just a duplicate of the first. I knew there to be a Royal Route plaque in
San Luis Potosi, thanks to my new friend, so I suggested we go there for
dinner. We were there before dark, and I
got some ice cream to tide me over.
Enrique parked about 100m from the plaza that had the plaque, and I had
to walk down a little pedestrian street with vendors hawking their wares, just
as they probably have for 500 years.
 |
| Camino Real plaque |
This city was the heart of the Royal Route. I found my plaque, lit up an H. Upmann, much
to my dismay, so I had previously smoked an H. Upmann Epicure at the first
Royal Route stop, but I liked the symmetry, so I let it go, and the cigars are
sufficiently different, purchased in different countries even. I didn’t even buy the Epicure, as it was part
of the package Enrique gave me. I took
my ceremonial pictures and headed back to the van.
 |
| Dinner |
My new friend had given me a restaurant with
his highest recommendation, so we headed there.
It was fancy and looked pricey, but we were celebrating. The trip was off to a great start. I ordered goat tacos, chiles en nogadas, and
a beer. Enrique got a hamburger and some
kind of soda. I could not believe how
cheap the total bill was. Like, when I
get Chinese food for dinner at my favorite place on 28th Street,
which I do once a week, I spend more at that restaurant than I did tonight for
the two of us for dinner. The meal was
delicious, and I was able to finish my cigar while we waited for the food, as
we sat outside.
I was going to finish
off the day with an OpusX, but we needed gas, and I wanted to wait until after
we gassed up to light up the cigar. We
found a gas station, which also had an Oxxo (Mexican 7-11/Wawa). I got an absurd amount of snacks, drinks, and
desserts for an insanely low price. I
then lit up the OpusX, or I tried to. My
lighter was out of gas, and I lost my last matches to the wind. I got a new plastic lighter and lit up the
OpusX, announcing, “Day 1 Complete.” I
will not bore my reader with details of the drive, but I tried to sleep as soon
as I finished the OpusX, unsuccessfully, though I did rest my eyes for the
whole drive, which helped.
 |
| Jalpan de Serra plaque at night |
We were soon
at the hotel, which was literally across the street from the plaque. I had a hard arrival at the room of 1
AM. I had thought we’d be here by 8
PM. Enrique was a great sport. He always is, despite his initial hemming and
hawing. I settled into my room, charged
my electronics a bit, and changed into my pajamas before heading out to the
plaza, where I lit up a Montecristo, took some ceremonial pictures in the dark,
and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish
and get to sleep at a somewhat reasonable hour.
The clock has just struck 2.
Literally, like the bell from the church just rang twice.
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