Aqueducts and Amigos

I was actually a little bit sad to leave San Luis Potosi; after making so many connections and having such a good time the previous evening, it seemed like a terrible thing to leave a city I'd felt genuinely welcome in. Still, further travel beckoned. I had never heard of the city of Santiago de Queretaro before starting this trip, but I'd been advised by several people along the way that it was worth visiting, and as a halfway point along the route I'd originally thought I could do from San Luis Potosi to Mexico City in one day (which would have been a bad idea), it was ideally placed.

The route from San Luis Potosi to Queretaro was largely autopista with little of interest to see until I entered the state of Queretaro. Everyone has a different idea of what constitutes "classic (insert country here) scenery, and for me, Mexico brought to mind lush, forested mountains with farmland covering the valleys below and extending up the slopes, dotted with small towns in the sea of green, and for the first time, that was exactly what I was riding through as I approached Santiago de Queretaro. My first view of the city was quite spectacular; as I crested a rise onto the highway running around the edge of the city, I was greeted by more undulating, green hills with what looked like a gleaming, modern city sprawling out around them and rain clouds dissipating overhead. As I exited the highway onto one of the city's main boulevards, I was greeted with a spectacular sight: a nearly 1.3-kilometer-long arched aqueduct dating back to the mid-1700's, part of a system that once supplied the city's water from nearby springs.

Beautifully maintained, the aqueduct seemed like a bridge between the old and new eras of the city as I rode to the apartment in which I would be staying, a theme that I'd soon find repeated throughout Queretaro. My host for the night, Leonor, upon hearing that I knew next to nothing of Queretaro, insisted on giving me a guided tour of the Centro Historico, only a short walk away. A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Centro Historico was a unique combination of colonial grid planning and winding alleyways built by the Otomi who inhabited the area prior to Spanish colonization and coexisted somewhat peacefully after the founding of the city. Leonor took me around many of the most important landmarks, with history lessons interspersed; I learned that Queretaro had been one of the most important cities involved in the Mexican independence movement, and that the first Mexican constitution had been written here. The Baroque architecture all throughout the Centro Historico was beautiful, as were the many monuments to the important figures in the city's history.

There was only one problem: I'd forgotten my camera at the apartment, and I didn't want to leave with nothing but cellphone photos of such a great city. So, after returning for a shower and a quick dinner, I went back to the Centro Historico as night fell, this time armed with my Nikon. There is a particular sort of beauty in walking an old, yet still vibrant city by night, particularly as the streets clear and one is left without any crowds or signs to obscure the buildings.

Even at night, parts of the Centro Historico were still buzzing with people, including a large group dancing in the main plaza, and several small shops, restaurants, and food stands were still open even as midnight approached. 

Walking around at night with my camera wasn't what I'd had in mind for many of the places on my trip, if any at all, but it was a different, and somehow more intimate way to get to know Queretaro, and I was grateful for the chance. 

The next day, I packed up once again and set off towards Mexico City, the first place on the trip that I'd actually been to before; once earlier this year, and once in 2018. I'd seen a good number of the most famous sights in the city, with Teotihuacan, the Templo Mayor in the middle of the historic district, and the Museum of Anthropology being major highlights, but this visit, I was there on business, or at least as close to it as one gets on an intercontinental motorcycle trip. After several hundred miles of riding without a windshield or left-side mirror, I wanted to replace both ASAP, and Mexico City seemed like my best chance. Traveling through Mexico City would also give me the chance to link up with my friend Eric, one of the lasting friends I'd made while living in New Orleans years ago, and who'd built a career as a musician since moving to Mexico City eight years ago. 

A word of advice to anyone considering driving through Mexico City, on a road trip or otherwise: DO NOT drive through Mexico City. Where Americans view driving as a mildly to moderately competitive sport, the residents of Mexico City consider it nothing less than gladiatorial combat. The first few miles as I made my way into the city were exhilarating in the sense that impending soon can be, but after more than an hour of cars barging in and out of traffic around me without any real regard for what was in front of or beside them, I was ready to get off the bike, and was relieved to drop my things at Eric's and catch up over dinner.

The next morning, I embarked on my mission to find a new mirror and windshield. Three shops yielded mirrors that either fit in the mount but were too small, or that were large enough but wouldn't screw into Honda's oddly specific mount, until I finally gave up and went to the nearest Honda dealer. Half an hour and two separate attempts to sell me a bike I already owned later, and I was riding away with a new mirror. They'd had a nice windshield that would have fit the bike, but didn't have the oddly specific mounting nuts that I'd destroyed in the fall and needed to attach the windshield (notice a theme here?)

Being able to see behind me in both directions was more than worth the trip and the inflated dealer prices, however, and I left with the bike feeling much closer to whole than it had before.