Having spent the previous 12 hours on a bus from Tijuana, I badly needed sustenance. My day had been spent it a state of perpetual worry, as I had managed to walk across the border without completing any formalities at all. I was illegally in Mexico. Not the best way to begin my first solo travelling experience! On top of this, I didn’t have any local money, and I had a hangover.

Luckily, as I stepped off the bus, I saw a shining light, my deliverance from hunger, in the form of a taco stand, or Taquerilla. I sat down and asked what was cooking. Taco’s. Came the reply.

I had three. And a can of coke.

From that point, until I left Mexico about 6 weeks later, I ate countless tacos from a lot of different street stands, market stalls, and restaurants. I ate tacos for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And some snacks in between!

Taco Stand – photo from Flickr

There are many different types of taco, each with their own traditions, however the four types that I ate the most were Tacos de Carne Asada, Tacos al Pastor, Tacos Dorados & Tacos de Pescado.

Mmmm tacos… – photo from Flickr

Tacos de Carne Asada, along with al Pastor, were probably the most common variety I found. These tacos are small strips of beef, fried and diced into cubes about 5mm thick. The beef cubes are then put onto a tortilla (you will often be given a choice between flour and corn tortillas) and garnished with cilantro and onion.

Real Mexican tacos – photo from Flickr

Tacos al Pastor (Shepherd style Tacos) are usually made from pork. The meat is shaped and put onto a kind of doner-kebab style rotating spit where it cooks. When ready, meat is chopped from the spit and diced into small chunks, put onto a tortilla and garnished with the usual cilantro and onion.

Al Pastor – photo from Flickr

Tacos Dorados are slightly different as the meat filling (chicken or beef) is put into a tortilla, which is the sealed and deep fried until crispy. They are served with a creamy sauce, lettuce and tomatoes.

Tacos Dorado from Mazatlan on the Pacific Coast

Tacos de Pescado (fish tacos) originate from Baja California and the Pacific Coast. They consist of deep fried fish (or shrimp) on a soft tortilla with the usual array of garnishes.

Customising your tacos with various accoutrements is half the fun. Most taquerias offer an array of garnishes which can be heaped copiously atop the tacos. Cilantro and onion are usually added by the vendor, with a few wedges of lime on the side. You are then free to add your tomato relishes, radishes, cucumbers and the unappetizing (but superb tasting) runny green guacamole sauce.

A taco stand in Mexico City (*notice the green sauce in the foreground) – photo from Flickr

Los Poblanos – photo from Flickr

I’m sure that one of the biggest companies in Mexico is Maseca, maybe only sue to amount of advertising they do. Advertising is very pronounced in Latin America, every concrete wall along the roadside is painted with the logo of some company or other, which makes for very colourful roadsides! Maseca are manufacturers of various flour products that a lot of tortillas are made from. In a market in the town of Tequila I watched two old ladies as they made tortillas. They made a paste of Maseca and water, rolled it into a ball, placed it between two sheets of plastic, put them into a press and then tossed them onto the hot grill for a short time.

Here’s a video I found on flickr of a lady doing the same thing.

There is a noticeable difference in taste and texture between flour and corn tortillas, so be sure to try them both to see which you prefer.

The size of the taco gets smaller the further south you are. In Baja California and the Northern mainland, tacos were about six inches in diameter. In Chiapas in the south, the tacos shrink to about two inches in diameter.

As you might expect, the price shrinks with the size. From about $10 pesos per taco in the north, down to the holy grail, the $1 peso taco in a market in San Cristobal de las Casas! As I wrote at the time, the cost of meal came down disproportionately to the size of the taco.

I also found the Mexican equivalent to the Holy Grail – the $1 peso taco. This equates to roughly 5 pence. Eat ten of those bad boys and you will be full, which translates to a £0.50 meal. When I arrived in Mexico the tacos were around $10 pesos each. The further south I have ventured the cheaper the tacos (and generally everything else) have become. I will add that they have got smaller, in the north it took 4 to fill me up, but that makes a $40 peso meal. Now 10 fills me up @ $1 peso each. That’s a $10 peso meal. Bargain.

Beware. Although street food is delicious, you have to be aware that standards of cleanliness may not be what you and your stomach are accustomed to. This can sometimes lead to some bowel issues. This did happen to me, and although it didn’t put me off eating street food, it made me more aware of the cleanliness and food preparation. Below are some general guidelines you may want to take into account when selecting a Taqueria:

1. Go to a stand where other people are eating. Whether in a big city, town or village, the locals know what’s good, clean and safe.
2. Go to a stand that “specializes” in a particular type of taco. They will have limited preparation equipment to keep clean, and a limited inventory of ingredients to keep fresh. This is basically the same advice given for eating in restaurants anywhere; the bigger the variety of food on the menu, the greater the possibility of something going wrong.
3. Use your senses. Look and smell. Is the place clean? If frying is taking place, is the cooking oil or lard clear or does it look like what gets taken out when your car gets an oil change? Does the meat smell good or do you detect an “off” odor?
4. Remember that the customer has an opportunity at a taco stand not available in restaurants: that of watching the preparation, the cleanliness of the cook’s hands and cooking utensils. For this reason, many people feel safer eating in the street.
5. Avoid places that are right at the edge of the sidewalk or curb, especially along busy streets. Traffic and wind both stir up dust, especially during the dry season.
6. Try it! If you like the look, smell and filling ingredients offered at a taco stand, by all means try it. Some of the tastiest food in Mexico is street food, and only a lack of common sense will stand between the visitor and some terrific eating experiences. Many people say that if you don’t eat on the street you’re missing Mexico.

Taken from Mexconnect

Street food in Mexico varies greatly. From Tamales in Chihuahua, to Mole in Puebla, the vast majority is absolutely delicious. For anyone thinking of heading to Mexico, be sure to eat on the street!

Taco Outlet – photo from Flickr

Another Taco Outlet – photo from Flickr

The first in the series comes from the Copper Canyon in Mexico, taken only a week or two into the 11 month Latin America trip. The train from Los Mochis to Creel is a must-do for anyone in the area.

Read the blog ntry by clicking here.

I woke up on Thursday with the intention of sitting on the beach all day, then using the internet during the early part of the evening before catching an overnight bus to Chetumal, through Belize to Flores in Guatemala. The plan began well, I caught the 9am shuttle to the beach had a swim and sat down to read for a while.

About an hour an a half later the weather had gotten worse (windy and increasingly overcast). When it began to rain I made the decision to get off the beach and catch a bus to Chetumal earlier, use the internet to catch up on the blog, and maybe catch an overnight bus from there. I did the majority of that, apart from the overnight bus. The first (and only) bus to Flores didn’t leave until 6am so I had to spend my last night in Mexico in Chetumal.

It was an early morning for me on Friday, I got up at 4:30am & got a taxi to the bus station just to make sure I didn’t miss the bus. Within 10 minutes of the bus leaving we were crossing the Mexican/Belize border, where I had to pay a mysterious US$20 fee to exit. Don’t ask me why, it seems they just wanted money. As I didn’t have much choice in the matter, I begrudgingly paid up and the bus entered Belize.

I decided not to stop in Belize, but as the bus passed through Belize City I wouldn’t have minded staying for a few days as it looked ramshackle but interesting. The houses were completely falling apart and looked as though they had been trhough one too many hurricanes.

As I had decided not to stop, I was only to be in Belize for the time it took to drive across the country, or at least I should have been. We had a crash about 30km from the Guatemalan border and were held up for a few hours while the police got involved and took statements from the driver etc.

When we reached the Belize/Guatemala border everyone had to pay US$15 for the priveledge of being in the country, regardless of the fact we were only there a few hours. Then the Guatemalan border officials asked/demanded a nominal fee (for themselves I might add). Although it wasn’t much money (Q10 (Q13=GBP1)) I had pretty much had my fill of borders and especially border officails for the day. At least I got some nice new stamps in my passport.

A couple of hours later I arrived in Flores and checked into the cheapest room I have had yet (Q25). This was in a nice big dorm with hot showers and above all, it was clean. After using the shower and having some much needed dinner, there wasn´t much I felt like doing except crashing out. So much for partying!

I have highlighted my route through Mexico in my Lonely Planet guide, and for anyone interested, this is where I went during my time in the country..

After a surprisingly easy 15 hour journey from Palenque, James & I arrived at our destination of Tulum at around midday. Tulum is a town roughly 150km south of Cancun on the Yucatan Pennisular and is popular becaue of its sublime beaches and spectacularly located Mayan ruins.

I had altered my plan to go straight from Palenque to Guatemala to take a detour to this lovely little place as I wanted some beach time, and I had heard that the town was empty of the normal hoardes of tourists due to Hurricane Wilma which had stuck this area a few weeks previously.

On arrival we dropped our bags off and went straight to the beach. Evidence of the hurricane was clearly visible, palms trees uprooted, shrubbery all over the place and cabañas half blown to bits, but the good news was the local tradesmen were busy with the clean up and rebuilding operation.

Despite the debris it was still a great beach. The sand was white and as fine as sugar, and I had my first swim in the Caribbean Sea. As you might imagine I didn’t move from the beach until the sun set, when I spent the evening with a bottle of beer, catching up with my journal.

The next morning I paid a visit to the ruins of Tulum. Although the buildings are not as impressive as Teotihuacan or Palenque, their location supposedly made up for that. When I first walked into the area it looked as though it should have been a golf course, with manicured lawns and precise pathways. It was all very pretty but hardly spectacular. It was only when I got to the cliff face and saw the main Castle standing proudly, looking out to the Caribbean did the site become worth the entrance fee.

Set atop a cliff overlooking the palm finged beach with the crystal clear waters gently rolling in from the Caribbean Sea, the ruins are definately fit for a desktop photo.

Occupied between 1200 and 1521AD Tulum was a city that existed towards the end of the Mayan era. In its prime it was an important port town for the trade routes along the Yucatan coastline. I wandered around taking copious photos (My philosophy is if I take enough photos, some must turn out to be good). When I had all the pictures of the ruins I wanted, I spent the next half hour using the timer feature on my camera to capture myself with a variety of backdrops.

After I tired of posing I strolled down the pathway to the beach, where I spent the remainder of the day laying on the beach, swimming in the Caribbean and soaking up the sun. By the end of the day my batteries were charged and my tan was sufficiently topped up. All that left me with no alternative but to have a beer in the evening.

About two hours drive from Palenque are three natural water feaures. These are known as Agua Azul (Blue Water), Agua Clara (Clear Water) and Misol Ha (No idea). I joined a tour to visit all three in a day. Misol Ha was first stop. Apparently this waterfall was used as a backdrop in the film Predator but I couldn’t remember which bit. Perhaps someone could enlighten me.

After spending 30 minutes walking behind the falls and climbing up into a cave, we moved onto the second stop, Agua Clara. Unfortunately it had been raining and the river had swelled, so the normaly clear waters were in fact a nice shade of brown.

After milling around at Agua Brown for a while we finally drove the hour to the main attraction, Agua Azul. This is a section of river containing over 50 individiual waterfalls and it certainly made up for the ordinariness of Agua Brown.

The tour guide gave us three hours at the falls to wander around, take some photos, have some lunch & perhaps buy some souveniers. I did them all except buy souveniers. There was also the opportunity to go for a swim near the falls, which I didn’t pass up. I donned my swimming shorts and jumped right in. The current is immensely strong and the signs stressed how dangerous it was to swim close to the falls. I decided to ignore this advice……(only joking Mum). I stuck to the safe places a little downstream from the main falls until it was time to jump back on the tourbus and get back into Palenque, just in time for James & I to board an overnight bus bound for Tulum on the Yucatan for some much needed beach time.

As we were staying 400m from the entrance to Palenque it was a pretty easy decision when someone asked ‘what shall we do today?’.

Palenque is an ancient Mayan city & its ruins are considered by many to be the most important and impressive ruins in all of Mexico. This probably has something to do with their location in the middle of the jungle, at the very point where the hills rise out of the plains of the Gulf Coast.

The site was originally occupied around 100BC, but it wasn’t until between 600 & 700AD that the city reached its pinnacle to be one of the most influencial cities in the Mayan empire. One of the most impressive things about the whole city is that it was built without the use of metal tools, pack animals or even the wheel. At the peak of its power, the buildings in the city were painted bright red – quite a sight against the backdrop of the surrounding jungle. Quite how the scientist people know this is beyond me, but who am I to doubt such a fact.

Palenque, like so many of the other ruins of Mexico was abandoned around 900AD. The reason the ‘scientists’ give for this is the overuse of the city’s natural resources, forcing the inhabitants to abandon their homes. On this occasion I will doubt the so-called scientists for two reasons. Firstly, I think the Mayans having built this city and having a whole jungle at their disposal could have fed themselves. Secondly, I blame aliens. I don’t know the entire story, but I’m sure it involved those pesky critters.

Anyway the site consists of over 500 buildings but only a few have been restored. When the city was abandoned (for whatever reason – but I’m still blaming aliens) the jungle quickly reclaimed the land and overgrew the place. Therefore the unrestored buildings have an eerie quiet about them, in stark contrast to the beautifully restored centre of the city, which has throngs of tourists flocking about.

Although the restored ruins are amazing, I did sort of prefer the parts of the site that have been left as part of the jungle. These areas are probably close to how they looked when they were rediscovered in 1787 on an expedition led by Captain Antonio del Rio, whole subsequent report led to many further voyages to the region.

In stark contrast to the previous night where I froze my tits off, the heat and humidity ensured that by ten in the morning the shade of the trees and the buildings were very much sought after. As you can probably see from this photo I was wilting! Thus after most of the day at the ruins sweating like a chimp, I thoroughly enjoyed my pre-dusk dip in the hotel swimming pool!

I had originally planned to get up early on Sunday morning and travel up to Palenque to see the ancient Mayan city of the same name, however myself and James found ourselves at loose ends and adjusted our plans to go up on Saturday instead.

We attempted to leave at midday for the five hour trip, but having used the internet in the morning I found out that England were due to kick off at 10.45 Mexican time. Naturally we postponed the departure so we could watch England beat the Argies. Just as full time approached we learned that the Aussies were palying Uraguay in a few hours, so we again postponed our departure to watch the game. After watching the Uraguayans win 1-0 we hopped on the bus for the 5 hour journey to Palenque.

When we arrived we taxied to our chosen hotel and were informed there was no room at the inn. There were however hammocks available to rent. It being the late and the hotel being in the middle of nowhere we decided it would be pertinent to hang a hammock and take our chances with the mosquitoes.

Palenque is in the middle of the jungle and at half ten it was pretty hot and humid. After much faffing about in the dark trying to get our hammocks we managed it and got into them ready for a good nights sleep. No such luck. With every passing hour the temperature dropped just enough for me to require an extra layer of clothing to stay warm. By the time about 4am came, I was out of clothes and the temperature was still dropping. For the next three hours until sunrise I lay awake shivering and wondering how the f*ck tarzan managed to survive in the jungle with only a loincloth for warmth!

One blessing on my side was the earplugs. I have found these to be invaluable so far on the trip and this night especially they spared me from the noises of the stereotypical bongo-playing unwashed who frequent campsites everywhere, as well as the frankly disturbing sounds of nature that eminated from the jungle.

Near to San Cristobal lies a series of lakes known as the Lagos de Montebello. These lakes were supposed to be spectacular and thus I wanted to visit them, so thats what I did. It was possible to do a tour of the lakes for the day, but fresh from my successfully organised independant tour I opted to go by myself.

Unfortunately I must have been blessed with beginners luck the previous occasion, as things were decidedly more difficult this time around. This was partly due to myself, and partly due to others. Just leaving San Cristobal proved to be difficult – this was the fault of others. I needed to get first to Comitan & the only way I could find was by collectivo taxi. This means three people share the cost of a taxi to a fixed point in Comitan. When I turned up I was the 2nd person in the taxi, so we only needed one more. After an hour of waiting it was apparent no-one else wanted to go to Comitan, so me and the other guy decided to pay the third share between us to get the show on the road.

When I actually arrived in Comitan, I needed to get to a specific bus station to catch another collectivo to the lakes. All well and good. Or it would have been if I could have found the place. I asked about 10 people, and I got about 10 different answers as to the location of the apparently mythical bus station. Luckily I found someone who had actually been to the bus station and knew where it was. Two minutes later I was there and on a collectivo heading to the lakes. Then I got my guidebook out and saw a lovely map of the town, with the bus station perfectly labelled in black and white. So I can’t really blame anyone but myself for wasting that hour of my life.

When I arrived at the lakes despite it being nice and sunny everywhere else, it was raining. I didn’t have my waterproofs on me thus I trudged about for a bit getting more and more wet and muddy. I walked for as long as I could take, saw a few of the lakes then a bus passed me and I had the impulse to jump on it, call it a day and go back to my hostel. So thats what I did.

They say you learn something new every day. Today I learned that if I had been born in a Mayan culture, I probably would have had a swollen penis as a child. I learned this interesting fact in the Mayan Medicine Development Centre, which I visited in the morning.

The reason for my unfortunate ailment? My mother eating avocado or onion within 3 months of my birth. According to Mayan midwives if mothers eat avocado or onion within three months of giving birth they will pass this affliction onto their newborn. I know that one food craving my mum had when pregnant with yours truly was for avocados, so I am assuming she had at least one after my birth. As I know she reads this, perhaps she would be so kind as to confirm or deny my presumption.

Aside from this I learned that Mayan medicine does not rely on pills, injections, or chemicals to heal the sick and injured. Instead they use prayer, candles, incense, bones and herbs. They do not have GP’s or nurses to diagnose and treat, they have prayer healers, midwives, bone healers and herbalists, each with their own role in diagnosis and cure.

I also found the Mexican equivalent to the Holy Grail – the $1 peso taco. This equates to roughly 5 pence. Eat ten of those bad boys and you will be full, which translates to a £0.50 meal. When I arrived in Mexico the tacos were around $10 pesos each. The further south I have ventured the cheaper the tacos (and generally everything else) have become. I will add that they have got smaller, in the north it took 4 to fill me up, but that makes a $40 peso meal. Now 10 fills me up @ $1 peso each. That’s a $10 peso meal. Bargain.

After spending much of the previous evening planning the coming week, I woke up early ready to take a boat trip through the Canon del Sumidero. I went to a tour company who quoted me $160 Pesos but I would have to wait until the next day, so I used public transport and did it myself. I got to the departure point of the lanchas, waited about half hour for the boat to fill up (a minimum of ten people were needed for the boat to leave the dock) and we set off.

After the building of the Chicoasen hydroelectric dam in 1981, the canyon was transofrmed into a 35km long reservior. Not long after setting out, the canyon walls began to lengthen and soon towered above the water level, rising to 800m at its highest point. The course of the reservior twisted ad turned revealing more and more rock formations and scenes. Along the route the driver(?) of the lancha stopped to point out some of the local flora and fauna. This included crocodiles, monkeys, pelicans, herons and other birds I don’t know the names of. The plantlife included one cliff face covered in thick moss which had water dripping from it. Apparently during Sept and Oct water cascades from this odd phenomenon.

The water in parts was covered in debris from bits of trees to plastic bottles, so much so that in parts the water looked like solid ground. I originally thought this water just because people dumped things into the water, but I later found out that it was residue from one of the hurricanes that have recently occured, and a massive cleanup operation was in force.

After an hour in the boat we reached the front of the dam. The canyon sides slowly getting smaller until they disappeared and we entered the main reservoir. This area was in stark contrast to the earlier canyon, especially the man made dam structure and the hydroelectric plant.

Having reached a dead end there was no option but to turn back the way we had came. The lancha driver sped back through the ravine as if his life depended on it. We made it back to the docking area in double quick time. During the journey I started thinking about the other boats I had been on recently – speedboats in New York and lanchas in Mexcaltitan. I thought that a race between the driver of this lancha and the drivers of ‘The Beast’ in New York, Mad Dog and Crazy Horse, this guy would win easy. Despite having a less powerful boat, in this ravine he would have local knowledge and more manouverabiliy in the water. That said, Crazy Horse was one crazy dude, so who knows.