Zacatecus itself is a beautiful city, resembling Spain more than Mexico. The streets are cobbled with large tiles and the buildings are very Colonial Spanish in design, the most impressive being the extremely ornate Cathedral in the center of town. The city was originally a mining town discovered by the Chicimec Indians, but as legend has it, one made the mistake of gifting a piece to a Spaniard conquistador, and next thing they knew, they were flying a Spanish flag. By the early 18^th century, the mines were producing over 20% of all of the silver coming from Mexico. As large amounts were being shipped back to the “motherland”, there was little expense spared when it came time to “modernize” the city. That is why it boasts such ornate, interesting architecture, elaborate churches and government buildings.

Political instability in the 19^th century slowed the flow of silver, and it eventually ceased all together during the revolution. Production resumed after the revolution. Now, Zacatecus continues to produce silver through several mines, one of which, Mina El Eden, can be visited by tourists (it was unfortunately closed for repairs during my stay).

In the center of the city is a rock topped hill, Cerro de la Bufa, which is situated much like the Acroplis that towers over Athens, Greece. It was the stage for a very impressive victory for Pancho Villa in 1914. He, along with his outnumbered, mal equipped band of rag tag revolutionaries,  managed to defeat 12,000 soldiers sent by then President  Victoriano Huerta, to take the city. Now the top of the hill serves as a museum of the war, and offers spectacular views of the city. It is possible to take a cable car to the top, which seems to be popular with the tourists, although I choose to ride my motorcycle instead.

Fedrico was kind enough to accompany me on two day trips from Zacatecus, one to the archeological zone “Chalchihuites” and another to the national park “Seirra de Organos”. Both were lots of fun, and great picture taking opportunities. Fredrico even managed to “sneak” me in Chalchihuites, where there is usually a 10 peso fee to enter. Apparently he  told them I was a Mexican, and I guess the locals don’t have to pay. He had stopped me prior to going in to tell me to say I was from Guadalahara if they asked.  They never did. I wonder how that would have gone over had we actually had that conversation…..

From Zacatecus, I headed South to Guadalahara for the New Years celebration. Choosing to live it up for a few days, I got a hotel that cost a night. It was a beautiful old colonial style hotel with the rooms surrounding a courtyard, with a fountain in the center surrounded by colorful tiles, plants and wrought iron furniture. It was really elegant compared to the places I had been staying. It was here I got a lesson in the workings of the Mexican judicial system.

It is common for hotels, especially smaller ones in urban areas, to outsource parking to lots who provide it for many businesses and hotels. I guess it would be similar to parking lots in downtown areas of bigger cities in the US, but let’s just say these are a little more “rugged”. Anyway, my “mode de oparandi” is a covered motorcycle parked on the center stand at night, every night. I’m fairly religious about it, and had parked it in such a manor my first evening at the hotel in the designated lot. When I went to check on it the next day and the cover had been removed, the bike had been moved, and leaned against a wall in a dark room behind the garage.  Apparently some rocket scientist had decided they could  make a few extra pesos if they cleared the spot for another car. The other car had not materialized, so the spot sat empty that night. In the process of moving the bike, or maybe leaning it against a wall, they had scuffed up one of my side cases pretty badly. Of course I complained, and next thing I know I am surrounded by an entire entourage consisting of police, parking lot attendants, hotel staff and onlookers. There was much bickering and screaming in Spanish going on, and I of course didn’t understand any of it. The outcome was, as I best had understood it, that the insurance company hired by the parking garage was to come out and make a claim. That seemed to satisfy the police, so they left. Me being the naïve citizen of the US of A, I just assumed that would be the end of it. No such luck. We waited, and waited. Three hours later, the adjuster did come out, but it wasn’t to make a claim. It was to act as negotiator between the hotel, parking garage and myself. Being the only non Spanish speaker in the lot, it was more like a negotiation between the three of them of how not to pay for the damage. In Mexico, the payment in the case of an accident is not determined by the price of the repair, but by what is negotiated between both parties. I was feeling a little outnumbered at that point so I called the US embassy, not knowing what else to do. That seemed to do the trick, because next thing I knew the whole thing changed. Sort of.

I had previously booked a routine service for my bike while I was in Guadalahara, so it was easy enough to get a price quote to repair the damage. So the next day I took the bike in and got the quote. When I returned the manager of the hotel offered me a very low amount, pretty much ignoring the quote. We went back and forth again. As it turned out, the hotel and the garage ended splitting the tab, which was a little less than half of the cost of the repair. In addition, they found a nice little spot in the back of the hotel for my bike for the remainder of my stay. From what I understand I got lucky, because most of the time you get nothing in such cases. So goes life….

On January 1, 2005 I headed for greener pastures. I am now in Morelia, another nice little Colonial town a few hours west of Mexico City, where I found a hotel for .50US. Tomorrow I plan to visit the Santuario Mariposa Monarcha, the national park where the butterflies from all over north America migrate to during the winter months. More on that shortly. Thanks for reading.