There was no direct route from Tapalpa to Mazamitla. We either had to travel north to Lake Chapala, around and down, or travel south to Ciudad Guzman, then head north again. Riding out of Mazamitla today was a little smokey…disappointing. I was hoping to get some awesome shots of the area as we descended, including the volcano, but it was not to be. Instead I will enjoy the sweeping mountainous road while I listening to Bruno! I could make out the rugged conical tip of the volcano as we passed by, but did not stop to take a shot. As we cleared the haziness of the valley and turned north again onto highway 110 the air began to clear a bit. Kev and I rode through many small townships, full of unruly traffic congestion, followed slow noisy black smog emitting, helmet suffocating, dusty buses, and clunked over many, many, many, topes, I think I counted 178 in all! These conditions can make it unpleasant to say the least, and coughing up in your helmet can be a problem!...If we weren't slowing down for the clunk and jar of the topes, we were being suffocated by black, sooty diesel emissions! It was a welcomed relief to be free of the close townships, that were not on the map and finally climb into the higher altitude of the Sierra Madre once again. This area reminds me of Tapalpa, the Pueblo we just left. Kev and I ride through the rickety cobblestone streets, pass the spectacular la iglesia blanco and continue to our accommodations. I pay for dos noches con desayuno, 2 nights with breakfast, then Kev and I unload the bikes and commence to hike up the steep property loaded in our boots and gear to our room some 500 meters away. We cannot see the bikes from our room, so we will lock and cover them up as well as hide them between the staff vehicles.
Up at altitude once again, we rode up the hill to our hotel.
Once again we were the only ones in the hotel.
Very cool old shops
Desayuno was located at a restaurant in the town square of Mazamitla and the morning walk in was lovely. Kev and I spent our days wandering and photographing the interesting streets, sitting in the square soaking it all in, people watching, reading a good book on the kindle while sipping a hot coffee, and watching the iglesia blanco, amazingly self ignite against the fiery sunset. The evenings were cold. Luckily we had a chimenea in our room and were able to make a cozy fire to heat up the place a little. During the evenings there was also a strong smell of marijuana that wafted in our window, most likely from the hills behind us! The nightly aroma was funnily enough, accompanied by the loud continuous "Eah Orr's" of a stoned donkey and "Cockle Doodle Doo" of a confused wasted rooster!