It’s been a crazy wonderful ride. 

We have certainly had a journey to remember. All the beautiful scenery, the people, the roads, the road stops. The police stops. All of it beautiful and magical and scary and daring. 

But it had to come to an end some time. I’m just glad it was our own decision and not some kidnapping event on Route 101. (more on that later)

We were gradually making our way back up to the states in a sedate manner. Taking in Honduras, Guatemala, Nicaragua, a Caribbean island off Belize, all was tranquil and totally relaxed. But then we hit Mexico. 

At Tulum we had a lovely little apartment. Cheap and really comfortable and modern. We were going to stay a few nights before moving on. The town is vibrant and welcoming. You can get good coffee, always a bonus in Central America. They may produce most of the worlds coffee here but they can’t make a decent cortado or latte to save their lives. But, alas the coffee had to be postponed, our plans were suddenly shattered with some very bad news. 

Daniela’s father was taken to hospital in Sicily. He’s a tough old boot as I discovered when he came to visit us in Costa Rica. But on his return to Sicily he managed to break his femur tripping over his shoes. This is the man who hopped across rocks and sketchy paths when he visited us in Costa Rica. If anyone is familiar with  Weebles they will know that they never fall down. That’s how I saw him. But unfortunately it happened and he spent a long while in hospital with operations and then he was recovering well. Daniela nearly cut the trip short at that point but his condition wasn’t that bad really. He was up and walking within a week. Tough old git. Unfortunately his conditions worsened when he came down with a serious stomach ache and it was discovered he had quite a bad hernia. And on top of that he now has some sort of infection. 

Needless to say Daniela needed to return asap. He has nobody there to look after him. So a plan was drawn up to hightail it up country fast. Book a couple of flights from Houston and get to him. 

The only problem was that this was Mexico and the quickest route took us through some of the most notorious cartel country. The famous route 101, the death highway! We did do a couple of days on it and were stopped by corrupt police insisting on bribes along the way a few times. But when we got to Coatzacoalcos we realized it just wasn’t worth the risk. Anything can happen on these roads. Kidnap, rape, beheadings. It’s all in the internet. Have a look. And all this information was enough for us to make a hasty left turn out of the danger zone towards Mexico City. 

On the morning we were leaving the town we were stopped within a kilometer by the police. Oh gosh what now? But it turned out the officer was very friendly and without provocation reassured us that not all police are bad. I think he saw by the looks on our faces that this had happened before. To me it was an omen. We had done the right thing. My lucky star was still shining. 

So off we went and eight hours later we were in a hotel in the city. And my goodness it is huge. Three times the size of London. As we drove down the hills into the motropolis through the thick yellow smog we saw thousands of  buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. Quite a sight to behold. 

We stayed the night in the town and had a wonderfully expensive meal. We deserved it after all we had been through. 

Then onwards north. Many long hours and a huge amount of kilometers to get to Saltillo. Somewhere seven hours north of Mexico City. 

Life is all about the friends you have. And we have discovered some exceptional ones since traveling. But two deserve extra homage here as they have gone above and beyond for us. 

First and foremost David, a distant relative along the Australopithecus lineage. We met at his family home in Carmel San Francisco for a very pleasant evening together with my uncle.  I felt a very strong connection immediately. The guy is just interesting and seems to know everything about everything. Especially music. He came to our rescue first when I was trying to place an advert on Craigslist for the car so that we could hopefully sell her before we had to leave. But it turned out I couldn’t do it without an American bank account and address. Dave to the rescue. He responded immediately to my email and got the ad placed for us. And a big thanks to him for that. 

But then he came to the rescue again. We have a car with no registration and no insurance for the states and we need to cross the border and drive on roads there. We tried every avenue. Even contacted friends who knew people in the Mexican embassy. You’d have thought they would be able to do something but no they couldn’t. Our temporary import license in Mexico does not allow us to sell or even donate the vehicle without incurring fines and possible prison sentences as well as losing our $300 deposit. So that wasn’t considered a plan. I was ready to erase the vin numbers and any evidence of ownership and dump her in the desert but that would be a nasty thing to do to such a fantastic car. 

David tried to find out if he could insure the car for us but the American system makes it very difficult to do anything really. We appreciated his efforts and will hopefully be able to repay him someday for his troubles. 

Then it was Jose. A colleague I had the privilege to work with at the school in London. What a lovely guy! He comes from Mexico City so he contacted all his old buddies and found one who worked in the Mexican government here in Saltillo. We were put in contact with another guy who offered us cash for the car and a lift to the border. It was a good offer but unfortunately not at all legal. The thought of incarceration in a Mexican jail filled my head with memories of Midnight Express! Not an option. 

But to them and to all the others who have assisted us in our time of need, a huge thank you. 

I think I have already mentioned my uncanny ability to always land on my feet and how when bad things happen it is usually within a stones throw of some means of rescue. Well it happened again today. We were just arriving into Saltillo when we got a puncture literally a hundred meters from the hotel. Told you I was lucky. 

Luckily again the spare wasn’t flat. One thing I’ve learned from experience always keep a spare. 

We went out and got the tyre repaired and also got Marissa well and truly cleaned. She shone again. This would help with what came next. 

Our plan was now to continue to the border and run the gauntlet. And try to sell the car at a dealers there. We had been declined insurance for the States and the registration was lapsed. Would we even get across into the US? Daniela and I contacted all the dealers in the border town in readiness but it wasn’t looking promising. 

Getting out of Mexico wasn’t the problem. We were sure they would have no issues letting us out and returning the $300 deposit we paid on entry for the car. The worrying bit was US customs. 

My experience with them is considerable. They are officious, mean, unwelcoming and generally rude. When we arrived in the US in January we were really put through the mill. Why are you here for so long? What are you up to? Why don’t you have a flight out? Are you really white? How many immigrants are in your wash bag? Real pricks!

So we arrived at the border in Piedras Negras with an agreed story and not a small amount of trepidation. We had booked an Airbnb just outside town but the host had emailed us an hour earlier saying she had to cancel our stay. Bummer! This doesn’t happen often with Airbnb. In fact I think they have rules which state you really shouldn’t do it. But it was what it was so we added another minor stress to our long list. 

Mexican immigration was a breeze as we thought. Straight through. Papers signed. Deposit refunded. 

And now no man’s land. I wondered if this might be where we would be living for a while?

I joined the first line of four for vehicles clenching my sphincter and praying for freedom. As we waited I realized a car at the front had been stopped by the officer for a very long time. The border guard looked like he was being typically officious. So I changed to lane 2 which was moving faster. I don’t know why I did it, I just had a feeling. 

As we pulled up to the kiosk we were met by a very smiley happy lady called Theresa who was just as nice as you can imagine. We even had a conversation about where we had been, why we were here, where we were staying. At which point she said “oh it’s a shame I’m all booked, I have airbnbs on my ranch” my ears pricked up. What? Daniela asked if she was the lady who had cancelled us a few hours before? Theresa looked at Daniela’s name on the passport and the penny dropped. Of all the coincidences to happen along the way I think this was one of the most mysterious. Of all the officers to meet at a control station this was the one who owned the Airbnb we booked. Thank god I changed lanes. 

Our conversation led to the car and our need to sell it. “I’ll ask my colleagues she said” now I was having a great time. This was the kind of thing you only dream of. A friendly border official, an oxymoron in itself, an immediate contact with a local who knows everyone in the town, I tried not to get too hopeful. 

We were shown to a waiting area where Daniela had to go speak to an official inside about her visit to Iraq years ago. She gets that every time we enter the US. It’s normal now. 

While she was inside I had a long chat with Theresa about what she does and life in general. When daniela rejoined us another officer asked how much we were asking for the car. $1500 I said without thinking. We just need to get rid of it. “Hold on” he said and went to make a phone call. Within a minute he was back with the details of a friend who was in desperate need of a car. Daniela messaged her and the lady sent a photo of the cash. She couldn’t speak English. Not many people do this close the border.  She was obviously keen so we arranged to meet after we booked into a hotel and emptied the car. 

We said our goodbyes and thank you’s to all the guards and headed to a hotel Theresa had recommended. 

An hour later we were at the lady’s house in the town. She was literally so so happy to buy the car. She didn’t even want to know anything about it. There were tears and hugs and everything. We did it all by the book though just to make sure there were no comebacks on us later. And the deal was done. 

It was a sad moment to see Marissa drive away into the distance with a new life and a new adventure. I think she’d probably be glad to have a careful Christian lady owner after all the dangerous and down right ugly roads we put her through!

My goodness what a ride it’s been! And the universe works in such mysterious ways. Sometimes I truly wonder why I am so lucky. Maybe it’s just that I trust the future will be good whatever life throws at us.