I was told that Zacetcas was a must visit while in Mexico. This is a gorgeous mining town home to where Corona is made so I didn’t have to think twice about coming here. I did couch surfing with a lad called Edgar who turned out to be a complete legend. On our first night we went for beers with his friends where I was introduced to the Mexican delicacy mescal (similar enough to tequila but nicer). I then had some tofu ceviche with the most spiciest piquante of my life. I ended up getting a migraine from it. It was outrageous stuff. Even the Mexican lads were in sweats. The next day Edgar took me to all of the street vendors where we sampled lots of local Zacatecas dishes. We climbed up to the most stunning view points and hiked for the rest of the day. We then took a drive out to the mountains to watch sunset and to sample some surprise surprise tacos. These were in fact my best tacos to date. Delish.



Edgar was a complete gent. He was living with his parents and gave up his room for me. This guy has backpacked before so understood how precious a bed is while travelling. Edgar warned me about his two dogs one a German Sheppard and the other a poodle (quite the combo). Anyway he informed me both dogs were vicious and would probably bite my legs so I wasn’t allowed leave the room without protection. So if I needed the loo in the middle of the night I had to wake him up. This was a bit of a disaster as I generally need the loo every morning at 4 am.



Anyway post tacos I wasn’t feeling the may west (at all!!). I said good night to Edgar and prayed the feeling would pass. I felt so so guilty for waking his entire family but had no choice because of the dogs. Anyway the night was a rough one and I was in ribbons. 4 am came and I felt violently sick, not wanting to wake Edgar/ not knowing if I would make the bathroom in time. I ended up frantically trying to empty my food bag to get sick into it. Food bag was conventionally ripped so sick ended up all over me and the floor. I then tried to do a tidy up job using some of my clothes. I was a little bit panicked/delusional that I ended up gathering up all the sick and putting it in my backpack. Delightful.

Anyway the next morning I felt marginally better and managed to eat some grapes and beans (probably the worst combo). I still hadn’t a chance to dispose of the sick monstrosity as it was steaming away in my backpack. Anyway after an excellent tour of Zacatecas myself and backpack full of sick made our way to bus terminal where I eventually managed to get rid of last nights evidence (including some of my clothes). Clothes supply is steadily decreasing yet weight of backpack steadily increasing?! So once again not my finest moment but needs must. Thank you Edgar for a memorable few days in your gorgeous hometown.



Next stop was Chihuahua in Northern Mexico where a few people had warned me not to go because it is notoriously dangerous especially around the boarders with Narco trafficking. The reason I wanted to go here was because of the famous Copper Canyon ( crazily lots of Mexicans have never heard of this place). The journey here was nothing short of nightmare. So from San Luis Potosi I had organized a bla bla car. We planned to meet at an Oxxo shop (Oxxi is like the spars of Ireland). Anyway obviously I went to the wrong Oxxo and the driver just left without me. I waited desperately for an hour for him and eventually realized he was never coming. This was v dodgy because my flight was leaving in a few hours. I luckily managed to get the slowest possible bus. There was some serious mechanical difficulties from the get go and the bus crawled through the streets stopping every few minutes to check the engine. We were stopped on 4 different occasions by the police looking for our passports. It was a hideous journey that took 4 hours longer than expected. I had resided to the fact I would miss the flight.
Luck was on my side and we pulled into the terminal at 5.15 am so I got into an extortionatly priced taxi and told him to peg it to the airport. I get to the airport and ques were out the door. Stress was on a next level. Although long bus journeys are sick they are definitely less stressful than flying. I was allowed skip the que given the circumstances. It was no surprise when my backpack was announced overweight and I would have to pay. Obviously I insisted on wearing all my clothes/ sleeping bag and carrying my pot. I looked and felt like a hobo but who cares I managed to get myself and excess luggage through free of charge. I literally have no recollection of being on the plane but we landed in Chihuahua and my next task was to find a bus to the small village of Creel, 6 hours away.
I managed to hitchhike from the airport where the man dropped me off at a massive supermarket. As per usual I got seriously overwhelmed and bought enough food for a small army. The man packing my groceries ended up dropping all of my tomatoes and stood on them (?). It was a sign of how stupid the shopping expedition was. The subsequent 40 minute walk to the terminal was hell on earth with the big family grocery shop and 25 kg backpack. Anyway en route a lad called Pedro felt sorry for me and carried my groceries to the terminal where I got the last seat on the bus. Things were looking up. Until…….the bus broke down. We were all told to abandon the bus and wait on the side of the motor way for a new one. Trying to organize all my stuff was a nightmare and all of my food bags ripped. I was literally walking around the motor way with tomatoes, tins of tuna & sweetcorn, a pot , a sleeping bag and a sombrero. An hour later I realized I had forgotten my entire back pack luckily I found bus man and it was retrieved. In fairness losing the big backpack wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. I am starting to look and feel more like my Uncle Joe as the days go by (not that that is a bad thing he is a legend). Delirium levels were reaching an all time high.

At this stage I had almost been travelling for 24 hours. When the new bus came I made mates with a chap called Guatalupe and the rest of the journey flew in (Guatalupe was also extremely delirious so we hit it off immediately). We arrived into pissing rain. I had planned on camping but considering the abysmal journey I treated myself to a room (this place is not touristy at all that no dorms exist). I was disheveled to say the least and was so grateful to have my pot, stove and abundance of food. I cooked up a mushroom pasta dish and a cup of barry’s teas in the room and k-od for the next 12 hours. The only other backpacker in town was an Israeli chap I met on the bus so we planned on going mountain biking the following am.


Luckily the weather was amazing the next day. One of the must sees here is Valle de los Monjes. It is a formation of rocks where you can climb to the top and see the most amazing views of the nearby canyons. The place was deserted and we had it to ourselves. Definitely a highlight. It was clear the horrible journey was completely worth it.




A personal favourite was valley of the mushrooms where they had loads of rock formations naturally shaped as mushrooms (v random).


The next day myself and Eres rented a scooter and decided to visit the nearby Cusarare waterfall. This was a stunning drive and the waterfall was seriously impressive (and empty!). We met a local who showed us how to get up close to the waterfall. This was probably a bit dodgy but definitely worth it. Isreal wasn’t to keen on me driving the scooter but I insisted and loved every minute. One of the most spectacular drives I have ever seen.



Afterwards we decided to make the most of the scooter and venture to a nearby town that someone had recommended to me. Eres was getting really ancy with me when there was no sign of any village. I was delighted and really enjoyed the amazing scenery. It was honestly jaw droppingly beautiful. We were getting slightly worried (Israel more so than me) as we were dangerously low on fuel and at the bottom of a canyon. Anyway we decided to turn around and managed to reach a tiny village near the waterfall where we figured we could get petrol. There wasn’t a dribble in the whole village. We definitely weren’t going to make it back to Creel. I got chatting to a lovely lad and explained the situation and he suggested taking fuel out of his car. This worked a treat and he didn’t charge us a penny.



En route home we stopped off at the most stunning lake to chill for a while. Eres is a professional spoon maker and is an expert at carving wood so that’s how we spent our afternoon.

That evening when I got back to my hotel I realised I had locked myself out. I wasn’t too concerned and figured the hotel would have a spare key. There was no spare but there was a machete so the owner without hesitation literally cut the door open without batting an eye lid. Only in Mexico!! My room was right beside the train tracks so anytime a train passed the room would shake violently. It was actually kind of scary as the hotel I picked definitely wasn’t the sturdiest. Creel is an up and coming place and definitely in 10 years time will be different and presumably a lot more touristy.
Myself and Israel planned on making our way to a village called Batopilas the following morning. It is located at the bottom of the canyon. It takes 5 hours to reach by bus.



