Central America | Mexico | Northern Mexico – Senior Herman Motel

Central America | Mexico | Northern Mexico – Senior Herman Motel

01.07.05    8:55PM
For the most part, today was another driving day. I got up at what I thought was early and started my day. The computer is acting up. It only spaces when it wants to, and then when it does finally space, it does it twice. Therefore, my spacing is going to be erratic. In hind sight today could have been chalked up as a pretty rotten day, but the pros outweighed the cons by just short of a ton. I left Monterrey early and tried to take the 40 out of the city, but kept ending up on 85. That was also a way out of the city, but in a southeasterly direction, as opposed to a southwestern direction. It ended up that just off the 85 was a temple for my Mom and Dad’s church. I stopped and took pictures and said a few prayers. Mostly I took pictures. I thought that it would be nice if I were all going on this road trip for some holy calling, but holy callings never seem to be this interesting. They usually end up locked in a room with screaming ten year olds for an hour a week. I’m having a de ja vu. However that one is spelled. It was great to see the temple. It is always nice to see something familiar when you are in unfamiliar territory. However, the detour meant that I had to cross over this huge mountain range in order to get back on track. It was well worth it. I hadn’t been in the middle of mountains like that for quite a while, and they were overwhelmingly beautiful. In the middle of the trip, just at sundown, a group of Militants stopped my car. They had big M-16 rifles and wanted to search my van. I took a long time getting to my wheelchair, and once they saw it, they told me to pass on. It was a little strange. I didn’t feel like I was in danger, although, I may have been. Everyone told me to take all of the money out of my wallet save two hundred pesos, so that if I did get pulled over I could bribe the Federales. I asked the military guy if he was a Federale and he said no, that he was a Milataria. I spent the rest of the day driving to where I am now. It is this hole in the wall Motel. Remind me not to stop at these ever again. It has a cricket that is chirping so loud it is driving me crazy. I keep hitting the bed, and he stops for a minute, then he starts up again. The toilet hasn’t stopped running since I got here, and there is no way I am getting in that shower. I still haven’t figured out if I can sleep safely in the car or not. I heard the hotels were really cheap, but I haven’t found that out yet. This one was twenty seven bucks, and it is something I might find in the San Francisco Mission. The curtains are falling off of the windows and the walls are painted but cracked and chipping. Nothing is as bad as that friggin’ cricket. It is that moment where I am wondering what the heck I was thinking, coming down to this awful place. No. There’s no way. I can’t stay here. This place is way to messed up. The toilet is broken, the sink is falling off the wall. Oh yeah, and there is a stair to get in the place. Not that I was expecting handicap accessibility, but come on people, this isn’t fit for any human. I’m going to finish writing here and go up there to get my money back. That in itself is going to be quite a feat. Nobody speaks any English so they are going to pretend like they don’t understand that I want my money back. This trip would be so much more enjoyable if I had listened just a little more in my high school Spanish class. Funny thing is that I surprisingly know a lot more than what I thought I did. I know most of the question words and some of the basic verbs. That gets me to be able to converse, at least in the simplest, caveman terms. Ohhh. Now I feel really bad. The cricket came out from underneath the bed to give me a look. He just sat there and looked at me. I told him I was going to kill him before, but now that we have officially met, I couldn’t even think about it. He is really big. Much bigger than the crickets back home. I think I will call him, Herman. But that isn’t Mexican at all. Let me call him, Senior Herman. I think, if he wants to go with me, I will take him along with me tomorrow. I guess they do that chirping thing as a call out to the female crickets. I can’t blame him for wanting to do his thing. The room is still absolutely disgusting, but at least I have made amends with this here Senior Herman. I wanted to do a little review on the hostel last night from and accessibility standpoint. It was ok. I ended up breaking the toilet because I tried to climb over it to get to the shower. The shower was pretty nasty. I guess that is some kind of theme in Mexico. I think I am going to try and stay in my van and not shower until I find a place that has a decent shower. I’m sure I could shell out a hundred and fifty bucks for a nice place with a nice shower, but the whole point of the trip was, well, what was the whole point of the trip. I think the keyboard just needed a little warming up, it is working really well now. Herman came out to visit with me and I put him up on the desk, but then he jumped off onto the hard tiled floor. I hope he didn’t break a leg. Now I feel really bad, because I scared him under the bed. He must think I am a real bully. Senor Herman, I won’t mess with you again tonight. Go ahead, sing your little song and try to get some of that Senorita Cricket action. Anyway, about that hostel, yeah, it was what it was. Pretty clean. The people that worked there were very friendly and as helpful as possible. It didn’t have that IH-Austin vibe. The guy that run the Austin hostel told me that it was one of the top five in the US. I didn’t believe him, but now I do. Goodnight Senor Herman.

Category : Central America | Mexico | Northern Mexico , Uncategorized