Day 8: Appointment at the Pacific

‘…..listen, there’s a hell of a universe next door. Let’s go!’ E.E. Cummings.

The last 7 days had brought me to understand the power and depth of Cummings thoughts. And it wasn’t just fireflies which made me do so. It was my passage right into the heart of a strange country which is probably only famous for its cactuses and the Aztecs that did it. It was my passage into the compelling presence of steep mountains where every meter upwards celebrated a new triumph. It was my passage through and sometimes into wide rivers, which washed down the stories from the mountains, bellowing them in splashes of joy. It was my passage into bustling cities and quiet villages, where people just about sustain themselves and yet smile and wear beautiful hats. My passage into cool dense forests where every bend unveiled a mystery be it a slug the size of a pencil box or a bird with seven colours. My passage into sweaty tropical plains with miles and miles of sugarcane fields and banana plantations. It was a slow discovery done on a bicycle where adventure, travel, time for reflection, solitude and great company, curiosity, freedom and fun were all experienced every minute, every hour.


Day 8 was fresh. I could smell the salty air of the Pacific and were just 65 kilometers from celebrating a victory hard earned. It was a perfect morning, crisp having rained a bit the previous night and bright since we were staring a little later than usual. After a while we passed through a small town called San Gabriel. As we stopped to regroup, loud music started blaring from around the corner. It was actually a school with children singing the national anthem loud and clear with one of the teachers at the helm. It was a song that resounded the struggles the country had to go through.

Mexico achieved its independence on the 16th of September 1810 after a long hard struggle with not one but three empires spanning over 4 centuries. Cortes overthrew Cuauhtémoc, the last of the Aztec emperors in 1521. The indigenous allies of the Spaniards raided Tenochtitlan, capital of the Aztec empire and hence started the beginning of three centuries of Spanish rule. The new colony was then named Nueva España or New Spain. The years that followed were devastating. The conquerors brought with them diseases unknown to the natives. The epidemics that broke out as well as the merciless workload imposed upon the natives dramatically diminished the Indian population. In 1808, Napoleon invaded Spain, and decided to impose his brother José Bonaparte, as king of Spain (1808-1810). The Criollos found in this circumstance the opportunity to seek their independence form Spain.
Influenced by the concepts of liberty, equality and democracy proposed by the French philosophers Rousseau, Montesquieu, Voltaire, and by the war of Independence of the United States, they decided to start a revolt. In the early hours of September 16, 1810, father Hidalgo accompanied by several conspirators –Iganacio Allende, Doña Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez- rang the bell of his little church, calling everyone to fight for liberty. It is this day that is celebrated all over Mexico as the day they started the movement for independence.

No wonder Mexican are fierce patriotics and proud of their independence. It was a practiced chorus sung by the school children and teachers that day and Inigo explained that this activity was done every Monday. They were all immaculately dressed in the school uniforms and as the others stood around, a small band dressed in military uniform marched across the pavilion and handed the flag to the headmaster, to end the proceedings. The horns were sounded one last time and they all dispersed to continue with lessons.
There’s always that funny feeling you get when you hear national anthems be it in any country or any language. Its something you just know reflects the glories and struggles to the current day, especially for countries that have fought for their independence from oppressive rulers.

We carried on, glad to have been part to an event such as this. After another stop at a thatched restaurant, where we drank coconut water (for which I was thrilled), we moved on very well knowing it was the last 8 kilometers home. For once we smelt and looked fresh with our bright green Asthma UK T-shirts. It was the last bit of road to victory. After cycling 620 kilometers and climbing up to 11000 feet we were finished on one fine sunny afternoon. We had done it, together the 12 of us. We laughed and laughed and hugged and hugged, the world spinning around us.

The Pacific meanwhile, unmindful of small victories being celebrated on the coast of Mexico, splashed and waved its huge hand, glistening in the sun, its dreams spreading out into the azure horizon.