The Wandering Chocoholic

Hello from San Cristobal de las Casas, in the highlands of Chiapas. Getting here was quite the Odyssey, and here’s why:

Last night, we all boarded a night bus from Oaxaca to take us here. The very comfortable first-class coach would take about eleven hours, and so we settled in for the night.

Unfortunately, about two hours into the bus ride, I got violently ill. Either it was the taco I had from the food stand across from the bus station, or the winding mountainous roads, or some combination thereof. I don’t know. But in any case, I was too weak and sick to continue.

The driver gamely pulled over at a checkpoint, but he couldn’t wait since he had a bus full of people to get to San Cristobal. I was severely dehydrated, dizzy and felt ill even moving a couple of steps, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to tough out the nine-plus hour journey. We couldn’t stay where we were — there was nothing around, and it was the middle of the night in a not-so-safe area. Options were limited.

It’s times like these when being on a tour instead of travelling solo really does come in handy. Milton gamely stepped up and hatched a plan. I wasn’t processing much at that point — it all went over my head and I just followed where he told me to go. Another bus had stopped at the same checkpoint as we did — a local bus, with regular stops instead of a direct route — and Milton somehow convinced the driver to take us to the next town on it. He called ahead and arranged to have the rest of the tour met in San Cristobal upon arrival, and he and I got on the other bus.

After a miserable thirty minute ride, during which I just tried to hang on, we arrived in Juchitan de Zaragoza, which was basically not much else but a truck stop town. But it was a town nonetheless. It was around 2am by then. Milton found a small, basic motel around the corner from the bus station, and we got ourselves some rooms for a few hours. He went to the all-night pharmacy and got me some re-hydration liquids and some pills. I slept for about four or five hours, and Milton claimed to have as well, though I suspect the poor guy was up most of the night sorting out plans and arrangements. Basically, he was a star, and I’m really grateful to him for getting me through last night in one piece.

I woke up in the morning feeling weak but human again. More liquids and some dry toast helped settle my stomach, and I took some motion sickness pills for the next leg of the bus journey.

There aren’t any direct routes from where we were to where we were going. We tried to get tickets for the 8:50am bus to Tuxtla, the capital of Chiapas, which is very close to San Cristobal and from which regular shuttles run all the time; however, by the time we got to the bus station, they were sold out. Milton hatched a Plan C and we bought two tickets to Arriaga, another small town inside Chiapas province, instead. This was a local bus, not a premium service, and it was quite the experience; it stopped in every town and village along the way, and at just about all of them, women got on selling empanadas, juice, water, you name it. The pills I’d taken made me drowsy, so I slept through most of the ride, thankfully not feeling ill anymore.

We got to Arriaga around 11:30 and investigated options for the next leg. There was either a local bus leaving for Tuxtla right away, or a premium express van service leaving at 1:30, but both of them would likely arrive at the same time. We opted for the van service. With a couple of hours’ break, we set out into the (very hot and sunny) town to find the market and town centre to get some lunch. Milton had never been to Arriaga either, but it wasn’t that hard: Like most small towns, you just look for the church and find the main square. Asking a local or two doesn’t hurt, either. I stood out quite a bit, since I don’t get the sense that Arriaga gets very many tourists, and it’s kind of hard to blend in when you’re pale as a ghost and don’t speak much Spanish. But everyone we met was friendly, and we found a local cafe, where Milton ordered up some lunch and fancy ice cream sundae thing, and I snacked on some more dry bread.

Bus number four of the journey was a small van from Arriaga to Tuxtla. It took around two hours and was thankfully uneventful. I was feeling much better by then, anyway. We got to Tuxtla around 3:30 and were able to get tickets right away for the bus to San Cristobal.

The bus up to San Cristobal only took about 45 minutes, during which time we climbed from 500m elevation of Tuxtla to over 2100m here in San Cristobal. That meant it was blissfully cooler when we arrived. It’s the last stop of the trip before we get into really hot weather, and I plan to enjoy that. Milton and I walked from the bus station through the town to the hotel, about a fifteen minute walk. The town seems very crowded with tourists, but it has a charming feel to it, with some nice brightly-coloured churches and some cafes and restaurants that look like they would be good once I’m feeling better. Apparently the area is famous for coffee. Hey, no complaints here!

I dumped my bags and met up with the group, who were happy to see us back in one piece. They’d had a nice day visiting some Mayan villages in the area — something I’m sorry to have missed, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I had a much-needed shower and rest and was feeling better by dinnertime.

For dinner, we went to a local cooperative restaurant with a socialist revolutionary theme. They source all local foods — no big-name brands — and while the menu is definitely catering to tourists, the food was delicious. The restaurant had a live band providing some local atmosphere, too. This is a foodie town, it seems, so options abound. But we enjoyed it, and my relatively simple sandwich didn’t seem to give my stomach any trouble, so yay.

Getting sick on vacation sucks. But all’s well that ends well.