August 23, 2024, Mexico. I checked out of El Pabellon and headed to Cafeteria Churrería Ferran, where I chatted with my friend and enjoyed an exotic churro with coffee. I was sad to say goodbye, and felt nostalgic as I headed down the sinewy gravel road and out to the highway. I was taking Hwy 544 east to Mascota, another pueblo magico, an hour or so away.

I parked in the historic center of Mascota and walked around. Across the street I met Susy, a woman who had a bakery in her home. I was tempted by her frosted sugar cookies and bought a large bag. We had a lovely conversation, and it turned out we both loved gardening. We swapped out WhatsApp contact info, and later she sent photos of flowers from her garden.

There was another bakery a few doors down, and I bought more cookies. Sadly I never ended up eating them. I continued walking down the street and came upon an otherworldly site. The place looked like a Greek temple that had been forgotten, and I learned later that it was Templo Inconcluso de la Preciosa Sangre de Cristo (the unfinished Temple of the Precious Blood of Christ). The adjoining museum was interesting and gave insights into the region’s history.

After exploring the grounds thoroughly, I walked toward the Museo Arqueológico de Mascota. On the way, I had a strange interaction with a Trump apologist. Talk about voting against your own interests.

Rain clouds threatened, and I just made it to the museum as the downpour started. I only had an hour till it closed, and didn’t think I’d be able to see the whole place in time.

The exhibit centered around the petroglyph and pictographs in the nearby mountain range, Sierra Occidental of Jalisco. The collection featured 405 objects dated from 1000 BC to 700 BC. They had been excavated from 3 different cemeteries.

After I left, I was determined to find an ATM that would accept my card. Suddenly my ATM card no longer worked. I only had a chipless ATM card, having ripped up my debit card on the advice of my cousin who thought someone might rob me. I went to every ATM in town. Nothing. Someone suggested I go to the largest store in town, a kind of Best Buy. Unfortunately, they couldn’t help me either.

Desparate, I went to the town center, Mercado Mascota, and inquired in a large grocery store. A kind woman took pity on me, and was able to use my credit card to give me cash. I asked for 500 MXP, and then decided to get an additional 500 just in case. Then I searched for a place to stay for the night. I found a place a few doors down that looked promising, let by a woman in a wheelchair who used a pencil in her mouth to type.

I said yes, and put my things in the room. I found parking just outside the hotel, which was convenient, then went in search of food. I lucked out. Tacos de Birria “El Toro” was an amazing spot a few blocks along the main road out of town. As I waited in line, I met a young man who lived nearby. We got into a serious conversation about government corruption and the impact of narcos on the town and surrounding region. I relayed Don Pancho’s story about being roughed up and arrested when he didn’t produce the requested bribe at the US/Mexican border. The young man concurred.

He told me that he had been threatened by narcos to give up his forest for almost nothing. Apparently they have been pressuring all the landowners in the area. He still has the family ranch, and has received death threats from local mafiosos bent on clearcutting the entire state of Jalisco. I’d been wondering why the mountains along the highway were mostly bare. I’d expected pine-covered mountains.

He has dual citizenship (US/Mexican), and told the blackmailers that if they kill him, they’ll have to answer to the state department. Now that Trump is president, the department might be in league with the hoodlums.

He was in a rush and got up before me. I thanked him for our conversation, hoping to stay in touch. It’s so rare to have that kind of conversation, and I treasured his honesty. When I got up to pay, I was told that he had paid for me. That was the kind of person he was.

August 24. We had arranged to meet for breakfast. We met at 10. He had made the hour drive from his ranch, and was moving calves. We had a delicious meal and then he bought me a box of Mexican wedding cookies. I was touched by his generosity, and hoped we would be able to connect in the future.

From there I walked back to the Templo Inconcluso, wandering amongst its pillars. I loved the grounds. Several families were also visiting, taking photos and enjoying the beautiful day. I liked this place.

I had done some online research about places to stay, and decided on Hotel Navidad. I liked the look of the town, also a pueblo magico. And the rooms seemed quite reasonable. I also wanted to see Sierra Lago Resort & Spa Hotel, set on a bucolic lake in the mountains. The rainstorm had caused a major inundation, and most of the roads were flooded. As I drove through intersections, I saw kids playing in the dirty water that filled the streets. From the rain the night before, there was still a 10 or so inches of water on the ground.

I made my way up the narrow road toward the resort. It was essentially one lane. Water cascaded down on either side. As Murphys law would have it, a truck suddenly came barreling down the road and I had barely enough time to jump off before he sped past. It was precipitously sleep, and extremely slick. Finally, I spied the lake, and drove around till I found a spot to park.

I headed down to the lake on a flower-lined path, then walked counter-clockwise around the lake. I was struck by the landscaping, meticulous and colorful. Not sure how many of the plants were native but it was nice to see. I watched a man propose to his fiancé on a pier, then take a boat across the lake to the main hotel. It was a gorgeous place. I wondered if this was where the rich narcos hung out. Probably.

When I finally got back in the car, dusk was falling. I didn’t realize the road was so perfunctory, and dirt to boot. There were several times I had to get out and move large rocks in order to pass. At one point I panicked that I wouldn’t be able to get through. At another I lost my way and was uncertain which route to take. What a trial. After 40 minutes of sweat and anxiety, I saw a few buildings over the rise. Hurrah! I must be in Navidad.

Indeed I was. I found the hotel, chatted with the front desk, and moved into my room. It was very comfortable, and I opened a window to let in the cool mountain air. Then I wandered around town, and found a lovely little terraza at Restaurante Mi Lupita. I was alone in the beautifully decorated patio full of memorabilia from times past. The meal was delicious, and I watched the cooks working away in the kitchen.

Then I headed back to El Portal and went to sleep. It was a wonderful peaceful place.

August 25. I woke well rested, and searched in vain for an espresso. Finally the hotel clerk offered to make me coffee in their kitchen. I peered down into the open courtyard from several floors up. She offered me a fried egg and tortilla as well. Yum.

I spent the day wandering around the town. I headed east out of town until a dog in a field started barking, and I got scared and headed back. Later I walked up to the northern boundary, and then out toward Mascota along Calle Allende.

There I met a lovely man who lived alone in a rambling hacienda. His wife had died a few years ago. He showed me in detail every room of the lovely two story home he had built from scratch. He invited me to stay. I told him I had paid for one night at the hotel and then had to continue on. I felt sad, as this was the kind of encounters most important to me. I wished I could take him up on his offer.

We sat together for a few hours. I listened to stories of days long ago, how the place had changed, how there used to be giant pine trees in the mountains, and the axes that brought those to an end. It was a tragic story, one that I’ve seen countless times. When will we ever learn?

I didn’t want to leave, but dusk had fallen, and I was hungry. I bade him farewell, hoping I’d be able to visit again while he was still alive. Again, sadness. So many of the people I have met on my travels are no longer, and the places have changed beyond recognition. I headed back and had dinner at La Lupita and went to bed early.