[Above: Filmmakers Adam Burgess and Colin McAuliffe pose with the Mexican police who provided us with an escort outside of Mexico City.]

Journal by Nancy Olson

Preface: AHA! My Spanish is improving, bit by bit. I took several semesters of Spanish in high school (Carroll High School, Southlake, Texas) and college (U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland), but I’ve forgotten most of it over the years. It is slowly creeping back to me. Sometimes, words and phrases will pop into my head, and I’ll have no idea what they mean. Conveniently, my A-driver, Todd Borgie, is a master of languages and translates for me when I ask him the meaning of the latest Espanol to pop into my brain. “Todd, what does ‘entonces’ mean, again ? (It means “well,” or” then”, and is used as a sort of connector) “And what the heck is ‘por su puesto?’”(It means “of course”, “certainly”, or “for sure.”) So, why am I telling you this? No reason, really, it’s just on my mind. We’re really immersed now, and we will be for the next few months. (ITALICS indicate undercurrents of thought within my wee brain.)

Thursday was an epic day for the LONGITUDE team. It started out routinely enough, but it eventually developed sufficient twists and turns, ups and downs, plots and climaxes for even the most scrutinizing adventure junky. It included Revolution, police escorts, breakdowns, lost roads, crooked cops, thieves, and adult television. Yep; it was sprinkled with a little bit of everything. Have I got your attention, yet? Good! (You have my permission to skip to the good parts…)

After a good night’s sleep in Tequila, we left the hotel at around 0730 to head for Teotihuacan [tay-oh-tee-hwah-kahn], near Mexico City. (Teotihuacan is the site of some awesome, pre-Aztec pyramids. You can learn about it on our education page.) Joining our team as our second “Take Me With You!” guest was Christina, a native Guadalajaran and a friend of team member Neil Dana. She is an awesome chick with superior language abilities and a pleasant disposition, and we were, and are, psyched to have her with us.

We were proud of our on-time start, but we got delayed a little bit by some photo opportunities in a blue agave field on the way out of town. This expedition is full of necessary delays, because we’re trying to gather information and photos for you fine people…heehee.

November 20th is La Revolucion in Mexico, a national holiday marking the anniversary of the Mexican Revolution. The city of Tequila was all abuzz with celebration, and the significance of the day shown in the costumes, smiles, and decorations lining the streets. Little girls wore traditional dresses, and the boys were in white shirts and pants, red waist sashes, and huge sombreros. They carried toy rifles slung across their backs, and, to my great joy, even the tiniest boys sported big, Magic-Marker, Federale-style moustaches. The whole scene, from the dusty, cobblestone roads and flat-fronted plaster architecture, to the townspeople on horseback, looked like something out of a spaghetti western.

As we drove out of town on this cool, sunny, perfect Tequila morning, a parade of young adults carrying red and white balloons and wearing cheerleader uniforms and t-shirts of the same colors drifted by on the way to a celebration. It would have been fun to have joined them, but, like the traveler in the Robert Frost poem, “…I (we) have promises to keep, and miles to go before I (we) sleep, and miles to go before I (we) sleep.”

Little did we know, the anticipated “miles to go before we sleep” for this day would turn out to be greatly underestimated…

The drive to Guadalajara was uneventful enough. Todd drove while I took a catnap. On the way through the city, Nick spotted a Land Rover dealership, and my vehicle and his did a U-ey toget some photos of our vehicles in front of it. The photos will accompany the press release I wrote for Land Rover Certified’s marketing team. We often go out of our way during this expedition to grab good photos for our sponsors, and that, too, is a source of delay. It felt good to see the familiar green oval of the Land Rover logo. It’s funny how the distance between the team and home can be made smaller by the similarities between home and here that we encounter along our route. A welcoming smile, shared laughter, or even a familiar green oval can make the world seem very small, indeed.

From Guadalajara, with Todd at the wheel so I could eat my salad, we continued southeast toward Teotihuacan. A hundred or so kilometers from the city, we passed by a huge lake off to our left (north). Our Lonely Planet guide book said it was Lago de Putzcwaro. Irrigation and other diversions feeding off of the lake will, at its current rate, cause the lake to be gone in 50 years, it said. It also said “You may notice the lake looks prettier from a distance than close up. Swimming in it is not recommended.” About 40 kilometers prior to Putzcwaro was Mexico’s largest lake, also rehearsing its disappearing act.

Just a few kilometers beyond the lake was a toll plaza (The toll roads are called “cuotas”, and the free roads are “libres.” Cuotas are way expensive, but they’re about a zillion times faster and better than the libres, so we use ‘em whenever they’re available.) with a pit stop for bathrooms and food. At most of these stops are little kids with squeegees who assault your windshield as soon as they can. I had a “conversation” with one of the little girls while waiting in line for a sandwich (torta). I asked her if she was hungry, and we ended up splitting one. She seemed pleased with the Hella (the awesome sponsor who provided us with rack lights for each vehicle and little keychain lights to had out) keychain light I handed her on our way out.

On the outskirts of Mexico City we came to a police checkpoint. There are A LOT of these police and military checkpoints sprinkled everywhere throughout Mexico, and most of them just wave us on through. This one did not wave us through, so the four vehicles pulled over to answer the question of “Where are you coming from, and where are you going?” “Tequila, and Teotihuacan,” we answered. And the uniformed cop moved on to the next vehicle.

As the trail vehicle, we had no idea what was going on, but la Policia Estatal were out of sight talking to another vehicle, and it was taking too long. Eventually, we were informed that these guys wanted to escort us through Mexico City, or to Mexico City, or just through this neighborhood…we didn’t really comprendo which. The reason, however, was that this was a sketchy stretch, and the policia, supposedly, were concerned about banditos hassling us and causing problems along the way. Personally, I am quite convinced that they just wanted to have some good fun, demonstrate their authority, and take advantage of an opportunity for some good training. Nothing wrong with that, right?

I really liked these guys. The very young lieutenant in charge reminded me of so many Marines I’ve worked with. He was sharp, neatly pressed, professional, helpful, and authoritative. His name was Omar, and he and his esposa were expecting their first child in a month. Omar and his men would ensure we remained safe.

With that said, please understand that I mean no disrespect with the perceptions I am about the lay out here.

From my rookie assessment, there was no real presence of danger, and we needed a police escort just about as badly as we needed a flat tire. I suppose, since we were neither hijacked nor ambushed, they succeeded in their mission. They also succeeded in slowing us down by AT LEAST two hours…AND they are responsible for the pitiful state we were to find ourselves in several hours later of driving around in circles through the skeeviest parts of the city…

They drove way under the speed limit, and cars were ripping around us at a really nice clip -- a clip at which we would have been happily traveling had these guys not felt it necessary to help and protect us. In addition to driving half the legal speed, they pulled the whole convoy over every 15 minutes or so at a new jurisdiction line to transfer the privilege of leading 4 cars full of gringos to the next set of cops and cars. Each exchange took roughly 10 minutes. There were about four of these.

At the turn-off for Mexico City, we were driving along and suddenly had to come to an abrupt halt to keep from smashing into the third vehicle of our convoy, who had stopped behind the second vehicle, who was stopped behind the first, who had stopped behind the police car that had suffered a catastrophic engine failure in the middle of the off-ramp on the other side of a blind curve. We were there, with our rear-end hanging out in highway traffic, for several minutes before everybody scrunched forward enough for us to move up a bit. I was furious -- nervous and furious. They finally got the car started again, and they continued on beyond the off-ramp just a hair. It was a hair shy of the amount of space required to safely pull the trail vehicle (mine) out of harm’s way. I screamed at everybody to pull around IN FRONT of the cop car, since he’s the guy with flashing lights and the ability to scare civilian drivers into not ramming into his rear bumper. It was done, and finally the guy got back in front of us and drove away. A few kilometers down the road, he was parked at an off-ramp, waving at us to continue along the highway toward Mexico City. We were finally free of La Policia Estatal. No hard feelings.

The only issue now was the fact that they had lead us INTO the city, and we had intended to go AROUND the city. Driving through it is hell. Take Washington D.C.’s beltway and L.A.’s 495, remove one lane, combine the havoc, make the lanes narrower, paint graffiti over all of the exit signs, and imagine trying to maneuver not one, but FOUR big cars through lane changes, and around reeling buses and construction zones. It doesn’t work very well.

To make matters worse, we were receiving radio interference from some Mexican drivers using our same channel. Justin, in the lead and frustrated, came on to ask us to please keep the radio-chatter down so they can navigate in peace. “Justin, that was Spanish…I think we’re sharing this channel,” I said. A few minutes later, a male voice with a thick accent said something about “Land Rover Discoverys”, and another said, “Pienso son gringos.” Great, now they’re talking specifically about us, and they’re using derogatory terms. There went the last thread of my security blanket.

Because the signs indicating which exit leads to which road and city are all blotted out by gang tags, it’s difficult to find the correct exit. It is so difficult, in fact, that we ended up driving around the city in a huge circle, through tiny barrios and mountain roads, for about six hours. (As a side note, we reached a peak altitude of about 10,300 feet in the hills around Mexico City, which itself has an altitude of around 6,000 feet.)

At around midnight, we stopped at the Walmart (the same one we had passed by several hours earlier, darn it) to regroup, eat, and use the bathroom. We got on the road again, and this time the correct one, and were eager to traipse on toward our objective, now a mere 30 clicks (kilometers) down the road. Ah, but before we could reach our destination, we’d have to cross several precarious intersections. At the spookiest intersection of them all, we were pulled over by some very suspicious-looking cops. They were NOT La Policia Estatal, but rather some rent-a-cop version. As Chanda noted, it looked like all three of them were sharing one uniform. One guy had the jacket, another had the pants, and the third had the boots. We have to be very leery of bandits posing as cops, so we were a little nervous. Christina, our Mexican friend, ensured us these were real police. I asked her if it is OK to ask them for some identification, and she ensured me that it was OK, that she had, and that they were the real deal. I wasn’t convinced, because these guys just looked like such clowns.

Apparently, the reason they pulled us over was that we had failed to use our blinkers to change lanes. Whatever! I was driving, and I know for a fact that I and the vehicle in front of me had used our turn signals. How do I know? Because I had just commented on how important it is, when convoying, to signal your intent so that the vehicles behind you can keep the convoy in a tight formation. Oh, and get this: THE POLICE CAR WAS MISSING A HEADLIGHT!!!

The rent-a-cops, or parking lot attendants, or whatever they were, (El Transito Municipal) were demanding 1000 pesos per vehicle. You’re kidding me! That’s $100 bucks each, and transit cops shouldn’t have the authority to write tickets, anyway. They said we could pay 1000 per vehicle, and we’d have to come back tomorrow to do it (yeah, right), or we could just give them 500 pesos per vehicle right now. Our Spanish speakers, Neil and Christina, negotiated for 30 minutes or so. They explained our cause: That we’re driving through their beautiful country on our way toward a cure for Parkinson’s disease. Neil told them, “People are dying throughout the world.” It took some doing, but somehow, eventually, the guys let us off. WOW! I never would have believed it.

As we pulled back onto the street, the lead vehicle blew through a red light…wups…but I guess the coppers missed that one, thank God.

Eventually, we made it to the city of Teotihuacan. All we had to do was locate a hotel with secure parking. We did so in record time, and we were checked in and parked by 0253. The motel was gorgeous, each room had its own garage and hot tub, and there was free HBO and (of all things) adult television.

Our epic day was over, and the next one had already begun by the time we got to sleep around four in the morning. But the beds were comfortable, the vehicles were safe, and tomorrow we would see pyramids that were almost as old as the human race itself. Life is good.

Logbook for November 20th
Start: Tequila, Mexico
Finish: Teotihuacan, Mexico
Mileage: 463

Help support our cause: Drive Around the World aims to raise money for Parkinson’s Disease research by taking four certified pre-owned Land Rover Discoverys around the globe following lines of longitude. Readers are encouraged to pledge small amounts of money per expedition-mile via a pledge form that can be found on our Parkinson’s page by clicking here. Everyone making a pledge of $10 or more to raise money for the Parkinson’s Institute will be put in a raffle to win an expedition-style Land Rover.