Christmas in Alamos, Mexico

Christmas in Alamos, Mexico

 

Manger Scene in Alamos

December 25, 2002

Merry Christmas, everybody!

After traveling down the east coast of Mexico to near the Guatemala border, we were heading back north to the USA via Mexico's west coast.  Various birders had recommended that we spend Christmas 2002 in the town of Alamos, Sonora, Mexico.

Our route in orange

 

Our Sanborn Insurance Travelog instructed us to take an alternate route around downtown Alamos in Sonora, Mexico because the city streets are inadequate for our motorhome.  In their words, “The streets of Alamos are just too narrow and are quite a chore (next to impossible) to negotiate with large vehicles.”  There are 3 RV Parks in Alamos -- 2 easily accessible and one more remote.  You can guess which one we chose.  We chose the Acosta RV Park on the far side of Alamos because it has 30 amp electricity -- the others have only 20 amps.  Little did we know . . . .

The Sanborn’s directions were, “get to it by the river, not thru town.”  A map of Alamos showed no rivers, but three 3 dry arroyos passing through the town.  We wondered which one was the river.  “Not to worry,” I told Pat, “when we reach the edge of town, I’ll stop and get instructions.  We can also look for signs that might give directions.”   

After pulling off the road at the edge of town, I asked a young Mexican fellow how to best bypass downtown to reach the Acosta Park.  He thought long and hard and was just starting to give directions when a beat-up van pulled off onto the dusty roadside.  “May I help?” the driver asked in English.  After I explained our wishes, he said, “Follow me.”  The pavement ended and the cobblestone street began.  The street narrowed.  We approached a circle that was apparently once designed for oxcart traffic and we squeezed around it and turned left down another narrow street.  The policia leaning against a nearby wall watched intently.  The road led down across a dry arroyo, where the cobblestone paving ended.  Our leader then turned right beside the arroyo through a dusty, weekend marketplace.  Horses, burros, pickup trucks, vegetable stands and lots of folks made the going difficult.  We slowly wended our way through the crowd, then down into the sand and rocks of the arroyo itself.  If we ran over anybody, they did not complain.  After bouncing along at a maximum speed of about 5 mph for a while, we squeezed around between the end of a footbridge and a rocky cliff, then onto another cobblestone road.  We drove up out of the arroyo into a narrow, wall-lined street till a large cemetery appeared.  We followed a narrow, rocky, dusty road around the cemetery, around another tight corner, over a narrow cattle guard, hit bottom on a dirt hump and there it was -- Acosta RV Park.  And, our new friend had just presented us with our first Christmas present.

Winnebago Vectra and Honda CRV

 

“I could have given you verbal directions,” our new friend said, “but it was much easier to lead the way.”  He introduced himself as Elliott and explained that he has lived in Alamos for 5 years.  His older companion has lived in Alamos for 20 years.  A sizable group of American expatriates lives in Alamos, which has the reputation of being one of those places that you don’t want to miss.  It is a charming old mining town, whose silver financed some Spanish expeditions into California in the 1870s and '80s.  Before that, Coronado had camped here in 1850, before he took his soldiers north to hunt for the “City of Gold” in Arizona, New Mexico, and Kansas.  Now, Alamos is recognized as the most authentic, colonial-style town in Sonora.  It has an impressive old cathedral and many restored colonial homes.  It’s lots of fun to walk the old streets and watch the local girls and boys eyeball each other as they walk around the square.  It is certainly more fun to walk through the town than to drive a motorhome through it.

Smoky haze over Alamos

 

Upon hooking up in the Acosta Park, our new neighbors (Chris & Irene Magneson from Winnipeg, Manitoba) volunteered information relating to survival in Mexico based on their many years’ experience.  “Never let a policeman know that you speak any Spanish,” was the first suggestion.  (No reason was provided.)  “Always carry a dummy billfold with a few pesos inside.  So, if you are robbed, the robbers will not get your credit cards, ATM card, drivers license and any other important papers you may normally carry in your billfold.”  

“Have you ever been robbed?” I asked.  

“No, and it seldom happens, but why take chances?” Chris replied.

Actually, we do not need to worry about someone stealing our ATM card.  We must have lost it somewhere in Arizona.  We use ATM cards all over the world to obtain local currency at acceptable exchange rates.  Anyway, the first time we tried to use it in Guaymas, Sonora, we could not find it in the special compartment of my billfold where I always carry it -- or anywhere else.  Pat was still carrying an old, obsolete one in her purse, but it was worthless.  So, we went to a bank and paid about $4.50 to obtain 5,000 pesos (about $500) by using a credit card.  OK, so that was also a Christmas present -- of sorts.

When leaving the bank, we both noticed a big bulge on the right-front tire of our Honda.  Two new B. F. Goodrich tires cost us 1,800 pesos and a full day delay in our journey as we waited for the tires to be shipped from Hermosillo.  The cash reserve that we hoped would last for a couple of weeks was disappearing rapidly. We hopefully canceled our ATM card by email with our banker.

Pat’s sprained ankle is healing nicely.  She stepped into a drain beside the car in Guaymas -- lucky her ankle wasn’t broken.

You may wonder why we complain so much about our troubles in Mexico.  Well, the truth is that we wish not to brag excessively about the great time we are having here.  Thought we could soften the blow by bitching instead of describing all the fascinating places and wonderful birding.

But, maybe a little bragging is in order.  For example, our neighbor Irene is a competent birder of Mexican birds and gave us some very useful advice on where to bird in the neighborhood.  “Listen,” she said, “I can hear some Mexican Parrotlets.”  Then, as if to prove her point, a small flock flew out into clear view from nearby trees and we added another species to our Christmas list.

The one bird we really wanted for the area was reported to frequent the Caracol (snail) RV Park near Alamos.  We met Mrs. Willman, who has owned the park for 30 years.  She explained that she and her husband had lived in San Francisco, CA (which explained her perfect English) but her husband wished to move back to the country of his ancestors.  They purchased 1000 acres of thorn scrub and cactus at the base of a mountain and built the RV park beside the highway to Alamos.  Her husband died a few years ago and they had never made their wishes known to each other about contingencies after death.  So she took it upon herself to have him cremated and hoped he would have approved.  A friend with a helicopter scattered his ashes all over the nearby mountain that he had loved so much.

As we prepared to leave the park, a worker announced that he heard the sound of the Uracca – the bird we were seeking.  We headed toward the sound and finally found five of these magnificent birds cavorting in the mesquite and Organpipe cactus.  It is also known as the Black-throated Magpie-jay, has a very long tail and a top notch on its head.  A very elegant bird!  We added several other birds to our list but the Magpie-jay was the best Christmas present.

Magpie Jay

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