On the 28th November we came back into Mexico south of Tucson and it was like coming home. The Mexican Immigration Officer sat and chatted to us for a while and showed us good places to stay on the map in his office. Stamping our visas came second to giving us a warm welcome. That's Mexico. Since crossing the border by and large its been hard riding south to get to the Yucatan and then on to Belize for Christmas. Even though for the most part we've just been riding rather than exploring we've still been having a great time. As we ride down the road people going about their business stop what they're doing and give us a wave. Truckers pull over and stop for a chat and when we stop for a break it seems the whole village comes over to say "Hola". Mexico really isn't a country you can just ride through, it adopts you along the way (with the exception of Acapulco). Its so far removed from home where life is so often tainted with indifference to strangers.
We followed the west coast down the country for 2500 miles stopping for a rest day only once, and that was with some strong persuasion from a Dutch motorcycle overlander come restauranteur. It was Liz's birthday (2nd Dec) and we pulled off Mex 200 into a little village called Manzanilla for a swim in the sea and some food. We apparently rode straight past Jolanda (the Dutch overlander come restauranteur) who was madly waving her arms at us to get our attention. After a lovely swim and a couple of margaritas we went in search of food and finally met Jolanda.

A year and a half ago she and her husband rode into the village just as we had and having been riding two motorbikes round the world for two and a half years decided this was as good a place to stay as any and have been there ever since. Together they opened a European and Indonesian restaurant and with equal measures of hard work in the restaurant and relaxation on the beach they're doing very well.

Jolanda's husband (Leon) was away but we soon got talking to Jolanda and before we knew it all the other customers had left and the three of us were drinking to excess (on the house), chatting into the small hours like we'd known each other for years. Suffice to say Liz went to bed that night having had a fantastic birthday (in her words). Jolanda had put a good argument forward for us to stay the next day so we could chat some more so we did. The argument was "why not!" We couldn't argue with that reasoning.

The next day was spent with Liz sitting in a kayak with me standing in the warm sea teaching her how to do a capsize drill and a few basic paddle strokes. Before long she had the capsize drill down to a tee and with her new confidence was surfing a few of the waves onto the beach. (You'll note there's only photos of me doing that bit but its true!) Later we met up with Jolanda again and she passed on some invaluable local knowledge of where to camp further down the coast and what to do along the way, before more drinks of course. We left Jolanda the following day feeling rested, looked after and with a new friend in Mexico.

Two days later we found ourselves in stark contrast on the outskirts of Acapulco, in a motel you wouldn't take your mother to! Paying by the hour we checked into a room for the night at 5:30. Tired and hot we went to be early on an uncomfortable mattress with trucks rumbling past the window and ants everywhere. At 5:30a.m. we were rudely awoken by the manager telling us our time was up and we had to leave. Having no choice we loaded the bike and took to the dark streets of Acapulco. To escape the heat of the day people start work here early and rush hour starts even earlier. We found ourselves riding at ridiculous speeds through narrow streets dodging busses, taxis and dogs trying to find our way out of the hellhole and south. Without a doubt its the most demanding riding I've ever had to do and I never want to repeat it. Miraculously we made it through the city and out the other side without taking a wrong turn, far more by luck than judgment. We continued south.

One of the places Jolanda recommended we should visit was Manazal. There she'd said we may get to see some Pacific turtles so we couldn't miss the opportunity and headed for the village. We got there by midday and found some dubious food for lunch, then headed down to the beach. It was so hot that we stopped at a bar for some water. Moments later we found ourselves pushing a boat down the sand into the water before jumping in to look for the turtles. Our guides were Jose, Jani and Situro, three local fishermen working a small boat off the beach. As we sped out to sea Jose stood at the bow as spotter. It seemed like forever that he kept signaling for the Situro to take the boat further out. Then we spotted our first turtle and the excitement grew. But Jose signaled for Situro to keep going. It seemed strange and Situro and Jani were looking at each other with puzzled expressions, as were we. Finally Jose was jumping up and down in the bow of the boat and shouting. Situro and Jose started shouting too and then we spotted them. Jose had seen a pod of Humpback whales off in the distance and was taking us strait to them. We grew closer and closer to where they'd last surfaced until they came up right infront of the boat. 20 feet in front. They were huge. We were in an 18 foot boat and these whales were three times the length of our boat!

There were five whales, two females each with calfs and a huge majestic male. It was totally breath taking. Our guides were singing to the whales and hugging each other and us. Situro told us this was an incredibly special moment as it was the first time the whales had been seen this year. The village believes that if the whales don't come the next years fishing will be poor and they'd been expecting the whales since September but had started to give up hope of seeing them. Evidently there were going to be some celebrations in the village that night! We followed the whales down the coat towards Guatemala for over an hour until it was time to reluctantly turn back. We'd almost forgotten about the turtles that we'd really come to sea but no one was in any rush to get back so we continued our search. It wasn't long before we found a big female quietly looking around to see who was coming her way. She seemed completely untroubled as we drew close to her and then Jani dived in to hold her. We were concerned that this would be distressing for the turtle but she just looked Jani in the eye and let him hold her. As we circled in the boat I noticed Jani talking gently to her with reassuring words and stroking her underside. At one point he even kissed her on the top of her head. It was clear that our guides really respected and loved these animals and wouldn't do them any intentional harm in any way. When Jani was happy he signaled for us to get in the water and swim over to him. For the first time in either of our lives we were five miles out to sea bobbing up and down face to face with a wild turtle. Even writing this its hard to believe that it actually happened. Turtles look so leathery and slippery but when you touch them their flippers (arms/legs, not sure!) are incredibly soft. Nothing like I imagined. We swam around with her for a while on her turns with Jani holding on to her so gently that she could leave us whenever she wanted but like dolphins she was curious of us too so was happy. Finally, with one gentle stroke she ducked under the water and returned to solitude. We returned to the boat tired and elated. We made back into shore talking in animated voices over the noise of the outboard. Rounding the kittiwake colony of Roca Blanca we were a little south of the village so having had such a good afternoon we dropped anchor and all went snorkeling for an hour or so amongst parrot fish and stingrays. Not a bad afternoon for £7.00 each!! That night we partied on the beach with the fishermen and their families, drinking Tequila and DosXX.

After 2500 miles of riding south we've finally turned east for the Yucatan. For the last 500 miles we've been passing people running in relays down the roads carrying a flaming torch. One runner carries the torch while a cattle truck full of his or her team mates drives on down the road, then dropping off another runner the first catches up and the torch is handed over before the process is repeated further down the road again. For three days we've been passing these runners and now in San Christobal we think we've found the answer to the reason for it all. In the lead up to Christmas each of the churches carries a torch from their home village or town to the capital and cathedral of the province. All day teams of runners have been arriving here with torches lit and feet bleeding (most of them run barefoot) before finally ascending the steps to the cathedral where their flame joins a huge pier.

Some of the runners have travelled over 1000 miles like this. Again, this is such a different world to the one we know. I haven't seen devotion like this since we were last in Mexico at Easter when people across the country work themselves into a frenzy as a 'volunteer' is crucified in a reenactment of the Christ's own crucifixion. Draw your own conclusions on that!

Now in San Christobal we intend to recover from all the riding for a day and enjoy the fiesta here. Oh, and recover from all our mosquito bites. After a night in a less than salubrious motel we woke up to discover we'd been eaten alive. We both have over 200 bites all over us so we're not feeling so well. It can't all be good I guess! The malaria tables seem to be working well though. This region was once the stronghold of the Mayan civilization and abandoned cities and temples litter the surrounding mountains waiting to tell their tales to us. Its also a stronghold of the Mayan descendants who live a poor but traditional life in the region. Over the next few weeks we'll be working our way through this area into Belize, learning a little more about our world and becoming all the richer for it.