Riding to Chamhula, Saturday 12^th September

Last night we were in a bar and unbeknown to us there was an artist drawing us as we sat there. It was only a quick sketch but we could recognise ourselves.

A few photos of the hotel that we were staying in.

Saturday was another free day to take in a tour, go shopping or what ever. After our last horse ride in Paricutin we were all walking like John Wayne and our legs ached but I still wanted to go on another ride so Zoe and I had booked up a ride out of town into the mountains to see he little town of Chamula.

We were picked up near the hotel and after collecting another two riders, Erika and Hose Luis on holiday from Tijuana we were driven into the hills. We sat in the back as the pickup drove out of town.

Our horses were already saddled so we only had to climb into the saddle and we were away into the countryside. We trotted and galloped along some back roads and farm tracks to get to the outskirts of Chamula.

This town has a high proportion of indigenous people and it is reflected in their faces, clothes and culture. They have a distinctive dress with women wearing a thick black home spun woollen dress and men wearing the same material as an over jacket.

The main church is in the square and is basically catholic although the locals have mixed in a lot of their own pre Hispanic beliefs and it is now a fusion of traditional native and Christian.

It was St Matthew’s Saints day which was being celebrated that morning with rockets being fired into the sky and traditional indigenous music being played inside as candles were lit to venerate various saints, not just St Matthew.

 The floor was covered with pine needles and there was a heavy scent of wax form the carpets of candles lit in front of various saints that lined the walls. Except for the music, nothing looked too dissimilar from what I would have expected but the guide books talk of all sorts of variations from traditional catholic rituals. Absolutely fascinating but whilst we could watch, no photos were allowed.

Plus a few more photos of local colour and riders.

I had seen no trains for several days so I started collecting photos of differently coloured VW Beetles, locally called Bochos, of which there seem to be hundreds in the streets, partly because they are robust, easy to work on, cheap and Mexico was host to the last VW plant to still produce them only ceasing production a few years ago.

Plus a few more photos of local Bochos and one of me riding back to town in the back of a pickup like the locals..