The Ludmila Confessions

We arrived in Tepoztlan near Cuernavaca and I broke entry without having confirmation from Maria to use her home, but it was empty. I reasoned to myself it must be okay, so I found the way in and did not say anything to Tad about it. It was a beautiful place, wood brim ceiling and tall spacious rooms, and a big bed with furs on it.  The one thing missing was enough wood to keep the whole house warm, so we were in bed early with a cozy fire and a bottle of wine and lots of fur covers all over the bed to cover us. We loved, we read, we laughed, and fell asleep early with the wood still burning in that big fireplace. The room was so romantic and Mexican, with pre-hispanic art everywhere on the room shelves, candles, that smell of burning wood that only in Mexico, the wood smells like that.

The next morning we decided to go to the peak of the mountain, Tepozteco, where the clouds sometimes cover the temple and half of the mountain. There is a pyramid dedicated to the god of pulque (the Mexican alcoholic beverage), about 1420 metres of altitude, very hard to climb and very dangerous. Many tourists that climbed had to be taken to Mexico City for bad fractures and a direct flight is about three or four hours. The drive in a car depends of trafico, or to Cuernavaca it was 40 minutes. Cuernavaca is a retreat for the very rich people, per week ends. Many famous people go there, like Rodolfo Valentino was many times a guest of archaeologists and powerful people. Errol Flynn was a guest of some spies, he himself was accused of being one. “The rich poor girl” Miss Hutton built a palace for herself and even Clark Gable visited Cuernavaca. Everyone loved that perfect climate almost year round, green with valleys and rivers, waterfalls, piramides, mountains, and above all the tranquility of a low key discretely wonderful, hideaway.

“El Tapon de Darien” near the port of one of the rivers

Most of the days you don’t see the mountain top and the ruins of the old pyramid of Tepozteco, in Tepoztlan where we were now staying for a couple of days and meeting very interesting people. On this particular day it was clear, so we decided to go and visit these ruins.

I prepared a basket full of food and liquor with some wine too, a great picnic for us to eat and drink on top of this pyramid. When we finally arrived there and relaxed to eat and drink, the clouds started upon us. As we were finishing our meal, enjoying the scenery, drinking the rest to get our buzz, the clouds crept over us slowly and covered us with the fog, so it was like being inside clouds envueltos (wrapped) in the floating sky. This was a marvelous feeling, and quite different than looking up at them from the bottom of the hill, but then it started pouring down rain on us and we had to descend, because it would not stop soon.

Canal de Panama in that time looked like this

It was time to leave Tepoztlan, although we really did not want too. Tad had a schedule to keep in Pamplona Spain for the running of the bulls, so we continued our journey, and we took a local bus, with chickens, ducks, and baby pigs! It smelled like a farm and not a bus. We rode it to the border of Mexico and Guatemala.

I told Tad I knew people and had friends right where he wanted to go, to Lake Atitlan, since that was where Jose was now. I did not know he was living with La Negra, so I got a big surprise after an arduous trip hitchhiking, finally getting to Guatemala, and now to Lake Atitlan to the Hacienda of the coffee plantation of La Negras family. We arrived at night and as we entered their home, there was Jose with La Negra and a new baby! Well surprise, surprise!

My heart stopped for a moment and all my feelings for him revived in me, I still loved him. I had tears and lots of pain, my heart was becoming crazy but I contained my emotion for my pride. Tad was just a fanboy for me up until then, I did not really love him, as Jose was still there on my mind and heart. It was becoming more than that though, Tad was great company and fun, he cared for me, I liked that. Jose seemed not to forget our love, showing us photos, looking at me and the motorcycle, in the middle of the bedroom next to the baby, with which we had the accident. He called her La Tzarina. I couldn’t play anymore games with Jose, and I started liking Tad a lot.

I said, “Well, let’s get something to drink.” We’d come from a long journey, were dirty and tired, which was as good an excuse as any, to drink. Unfortunately, the only thing available for a buzz was Mayan real aguardiente, which is the strongest cheapest alcoholic drink available in the pueblo. It was the only one the Mayan Indians sold. There was not a single liquor store in this valley in or out of these beautiful mountains, with the pristine beautiful lake inside a crater of a volcano, millions of years old!

We slept in the room next to Jose’s and my mind was thinking of the past I had with Jose. In the morning after having had Mayan grown coffee, and some more aguardiente, just me alone since no one else drank like I did, we had a tour of the coffee plantation and all their process up to  the shipping. The following day we proceeded our journey to the next country, Honduras.  Sometimes in buses and sometimes hitchhiking in trucks. I must be honest, since this is my confessions– I don’t remember much of Honduras. I think we slept in a hostel in Tegucigalpa, and continued quickly on to Nicaragua, where we found a camping ground. There were lots of young people that probably had some cause to stare and talk about us, with me being much older than him, but they did not comment to me or ask about my relationship with Tad Gail, which was very nice of them. We made lots of friends there, some were going to Pamplona also. We ate with them and drank with them and it was okay for me– but camping in tents was not my bag!

We had no problems at the borders. I said I was his aunt, and while they most probably did not believe it, that was alright with me. The next stop was Costa Rica: beautiful beaches, great forests and we arrived at a good time, not much rain at that time of year. We arrived in a big truck with a bedroom built up like a second floor, so Tad asked the driver if we could sleep in the truck for that night, since it was too late to find a hotel or anything. He let us stay there, and it was not bad. The following morning we went out walking in San Jose. We went exploring and found a little beautiful mobile home camp on the outskirts of the city. Luckily there was a motor home empty that belonged to somebody who was out of the country, so we rented it for a couple of days. Well Tad did, so far I did not spend any money.

From there we proceeded hitchhiking rides, down to Panamá. Now in Panamá City we stayed downtown, not too far for the canal of Panama. What a fantastic labor of that men can do. We walked downtown and found an incredibly luxurious hotel. I could recognize it probably had very important people staying there at some point. There were white stairs made of alabaster in a caracol (seashell) shape, marble tile, tall ceilings with big crystal chandeliers, and big ventanales (windows), and balconies hanging out of them. It was a great stay.  We loved the fruit called marañon. We stayed for another couple of days and then on a train, we set off to El Tapon de Darien. (Dear readers of my book: very soon there will be more details of the beauty of all of these countries and their costumes and traditions.)

We were trying to cruise by car or by ferry to Colombia from the last Port near El Tapon de Darien but there we found only swamp mosquitos, and old very sad homes made of rotten wood by the jungle weather. There was no road to Colombia or to anywhere. People said there would never be one down there but if you open the world atlas it shows in that time there was a trans american highway from the beginning of the Andes to the end of the Andes after Chile, because of the traffic of drugs and other illegal things, but never will the part of that be finished.  Well, now what?

This was Tad’s plan and the only time he would be able to do go.  We had to get to Colombia and then to Venezuela, and we could not afford flying, because it was not in his budget. I don’t think it included me in that budget nor did I ask him about his money so I really don’t know. I never asked him about his money situation at any other place. Back at the little Port of La Palma there were cargo boats going from the near La Palma port to a river that enters into Colombia shores of the Pacific and from here we can go to Medellin and home free to Venezuela and to Canaima to see my adventurous men of the jungle.

Without  further ado, we went straight to the  Las Palmas docks, where we found a place to sleep and asked how to get on a boat to Colombia. Big ships were not allowed legally to take passengers and the big ship that did, cost a fortune so we spend day after day, me translating and doing all the talking and snooping and listening until I heard of a contrabando small boat that goes out by the back of a small river where regular boats could not go.  After talking to many boat captains, we finally met this big fat ugly guy who looks dangerous to me, but I did not panic or say anything to Tad.  So we agreed it was okay to pay and go on his boat. “Captain Juan” stood up straight and shouted to his crew laughingly, we will take these two passengers!  Well, they did not look like deeply religious or godly people exactly!  We laughed too and said “Okay”, here tonight after dark? This did not sound too promising, but we laughed nervously and shook hands with Juan the jefe. The rest of the crew looked liked thieves and one of them was like Peter Lorre with a cut on his face down to the lip!  How innocent and stupid we were!