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Broken cars, a procession and Popocatépetl.

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We’re back among the volcanoes and staying in atmospheric Puebla for our last rest day. I was  excited to see Citlaltépetl on the way here but even more thrilled to get glimpses of Popocatépetl having an afternoon puff through the haze. Such glorious names!  I remember reading about them when I was about 8, in my much loved ‘ Book of the World’ and here I am, seeing them with my own eyes. I swoon.  I just hope it’s less hazy tomorrow so I can see Popocatépetl better. Puebla had a very serious earthquake last year and there was another 7.2 near Oaxaca last month. The damage from these is evident in many places.  It’s been a hectic few days, some rather boring, but fast toll motorway; plenty of absolutely gorgeous mountain driving with steep narrow roads, vertical drops, endless potholes and those bloody ‘topes’ aka car killers. Hundreds of them - unmarked, unpredictable and truly nasty.  Of course, in our big boy Tahoe

A Chevy, chicken and cactus, plus a reconnection.

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We have a Chevy Tahoe - oh boy!  It’s vast; there’s probably a bathroom in it somewhere, I just haven’t found it yet.  What a beast!  It’s great, obviously, and there are advantages to being in a Hertz special, it’s just not the same, but there we are.  We didn’t do a great deal at Tulum, although messing about with car hire which involved at 130 kms round trip and endless faffing in the office consumed much of the day. Most of the rest was spent looking at the turquoise Caribbean over the rim of a margarita.  It was an easy drive to Chichen Itza for our next stop. No hills, little traffic plus: we are in a stonking great truck now.  We just need some serious driving to get the full value. That will come later in Mexico, I’m sure. Chichen Itza is vast, unbelievably huge. The ruins are highly restored and most of the tourists groups staying the the Yucatan resorts seemed to be visiting when we were there. We are staying in a

Busted!

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After a too short couple of days at Los Lagunas, in Flores, and a visit to the spectacular ruins at Tikal, we set off fo Belize.  Getting through Belizean immigration was a breeze - as I remembered it from when I crossed the same border once before. It was also the first taste of the incredible friendliness and cheerfulness of Belizeans.  English registration documents only have the date of first registration on them hence; the Model A appears to be only 22 years old as it spent much of its early life in Argentina, pounding the Pampas. After a brief look of perplexion, the customs officer roared with laughter and came and sat in the drivers seat to have his photo taken.  Seldom are border formalities completed in such an open, sunny manner and with so much laughter.  Our stay in lovely Belize was a very brief one night in Belize City, looking, with great longing, on my part anyway, towards the sumptuous cayes in the Caribbean Sea that

A proper rally day.

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We set off  at 6 am  for the 500 kms to Flores.   In order to avoid the hell that is Guatemala City, we were taking a more circuitous route through the mountains and it was tough, tough, tough. Very steep climbs -and descents -  no black top for a lot of it, washboards, craters, deep sand all with some terrifying drops at the side.  It was a bit like Mongolia, only worse because Mongolia is mainly flat.  Then, there were all the speed bumps. Not just any old speed bumps, I’m talking tyre shredding, chassis breaking, unmarked, high and pointy speed bumps. There were hundreds of them everywhere., mostly impossible to see. They are called ‘tumulos’ here - the Spanish for tomb. It figures. There was very little traffic, thankfully although there was the inevitable meeting with the Coca Cola truck. I loved it, mostly.  My, it was slow going though.  After 5 hours we’d covered  147kms.   The scenery was stunning, the li