by Mary Schultz
Working on the road as a freelance advertising writer presents some challenges. Doing so in the midst of a grand adventure in Mexico presents more. But the effort is definitely worthwhile.
My husband and I discovered some tricks and techniques last winter as we towed our 4WD Nissan pickup truck behind our 34 ft. Bounder through Mexico. While most RVers aren't as pressed for time and communications access as we were, anyone could benefit from our experience. After all, the less travel time you use meeting basic needs, the more you have for adventure.
Our travels first took us from South Texas to Guadalajara to Ajijic on Lake Chapala. From there, we made a six week fishing and sunning stop at San Patricio, where we met up with some adventurers who invited us to join them on a 9-week quest.
The sojourn began in Guadalajara. Next stop: Patzcuaro and its surrounding villages, then down to the coast -- Zihuatenejo and Acapulco. Cuernavaca was base camp for our visits to Mexico City and Taxco, followed by Oaxaca, then on to the Yucatan. Campeche. Uxmal. Merida. Chichen Itza. Cancun. Next, the whole white sand, coral reef "tourist corridor" followed by Palenque and Cascadas Agua Azul, and home via Villahermosa, Lake Catemaco and Veracruz.
All the while, I worked at the computer, writing twelve versions of a charitable appeal, complete with a rather technical brochure. The client wanted revisions. The bigger boss wanted more revisions. Could I fax them? How soon? And by the way, would I send a diskette to the artist who was working on this project? And another hard copy of the manuscript. Yes, that would be good, too.
We were fortunate in the telephone arena. We had a cellular phone in our motorhome. We have a Mexican friend, a businessman who helped us get a Mexican cellular phone number for the duration of our journey. The bills came to him, and we paid them.
My clients hesitated to call me on our cell phone. I was reluctant to use it, lest expenses get out of hand. So, we devised a communication system. I bought Mexican pre-paid long distance phone cards and checked messages at home. When the client needed something, he left a message. Then, I would respond by fax or phone.
In the Yucatan, we visited places where locals had never heard of a Ladatel card. In that region, we splurged and used the cellular phone. However, the land is so close to sea level that we had a devil of a time making, as they say in Mexico, "line connect."
My husband would keep an eye peeled for the familiar towers that indicate cellular service, usually on the outskirts of cities. He would watch the digital signal boxes on the cellular phone, and when they indicated a strong enough signal, we would pull over to the shoulder on the highest bridge we could find. Those few feet of elevation made a difference. We had line connect, and were saved.
At every town and city, we developed a little ritual for making the most of our visit. We discovered that laundry is the chore that usually takes longest, so we looked for a laundry first. Mexican laundries usually charge by weight, and require you to leave your clothing and return for it later, sometimes after a day or so. We would always determine the cost in advance.
With the laundry gone, we went on to look for the "fax publico." A fax was essential for my work, and my clients seemed to get a kick out of some of the strange places from which my messages came. Again, asking the price in advance is essential. In Patzcuaro, for example, one hotel wanted what amounted to $8 American to send a brief message, while a photo-copy and school supply store in town wanted $1.50. At a K-Mart in Cuernavaca, I sent a huge fax at an expense of $30. The client didn't receive most of the pages. The store kindly re-sent the fax at no cost to me.
If you're wondering how we found these services, remember guide books often contain rudimentary maps of the downtown or central square area. Some books assign numbers to various features. In larger cities, local phone directories helped us find our way. Even with limited Spanish, we could read "lavandaria" and know that was a laundry, or "panaderia" for bakery. And in smaller towns, we would simply get in the truck and drive, starting at the center of town and moving outward in wider concentric circles.
With laundry and fax out of the way, we were on the other important matters, like food and water. We drink bottled water, and carry a five gallon bottle with us. It fits under the dinette. When it's empty, we take it to the store and exchange it for a full one. Or, if a water delivery person drives through a campground where we're staying, we ask to purchase water and give him the empty. I can't think of a time when anyone refused to take our empty bottle.
Whenever possible, we buy produce from public markets. In the motorhome, it's so easy to soak lettuce, veggies and fruits in a sink full of water sanitized with a few drops of chlorine bleach. The lettuce doesn't last as long in the refrigerator as it would without the bleach, but we are rewarded with relatively good health.
In Mexico, we exercise prudent caution about meat. We can live comfortably without beef, so unless we're confident it's clean and has been handled with sanitary measures, we skip it. Chicken is often quite good. We've been told by experienced travelers not be afraid of the very bright yellow chicken you see in Mexico. It's supposedly fed on marigolds, and that's the reason for the vibrant color. When there's so much fish and shellfish, an exotic treat for us, we tend to take advantage of the opportunity in Mexico.
Some people favor "Bimbo" bread, the brand most like Wonder bread in Mexico. For our tastes, any local Panaderia beats spongy white bread. Mexican bakeries operate on a system. You pick up a tray and a pair of tongs, then find the goodies you want and load them on your tray. When you reach the cashier, a clerk (usually with latex-gloved hands) wraps your bakery goods and bags them. Then, she tells the cashier what you owe, and you pay at the register.
Buying cheese is a similar matter, except in supermarket delis, on occasion one has to take a number and wait a turn. And, regardless of what town you're visiting, if you see long lines of residents snaking around, you've probably come upon the tortiarilla. The queue indicates that the tortillas are being made fresh.
Once food is solved, we look for the pharmacy. There are over- the-counter medicines I use regularly. In Mexico, I can buy them at one third the price they cost in the states. We've heard a caution about medicine. If the kind you use has to be kept refrigerated, you might exercise caution, since you can't be sure whether the pharmacy has truly kept the medicine cold all the time. The non-prescription items I use are hardy, and this is not a concern.
Some of our fellow travelers sent post cards to family members from Mexican post offices. Our experience has been that while the post offices usually deliver mail eventually, "sometime" isn't good enough for us. We have a Federal Express account, and take international waybills with us. We send our stamped U.S. mail to a friend in the states who will mail it for us.
Finding the FedEx office in Mexican cities can be a challenge. Once, I visited five different postal and package delivery services before I found one that handled Federal Express. It was, ironically enough, a freight office in a light manufacturing area of Oaxaca City. I almost turned away because all I could see was a high curb under a raised metal garage door, and a huge freight scale on a concrete slab.
Inside this "garage", however, the clerks were encouraging and polite. I showed them my waybill, and they showed me theirs, complete with the Federal Express logo. They insisted I mark my waybill with their address. I tried to explain that we were leaving soon, and if the package came back to them, I could do nothing. They smiled a lot. I reluctantly turned my envelope over to them. The stateside client got the package in less than two working days.
Negotiating price of the shipment was not necessary, as our account would be billed for the appropriate amount, based on the weight and speed of delivery requested.
Part of the joy of travel is finding what you need where you least expect it, and discovering that people are generally as kind to you as you would be to any foreign visitor in your home town. We all find our way in ever-widening circles, and our needs are most often met in ways we never expected, but we always appreciate.
Note: Mary Schultz, a freelance copywriter specializing in direct response advertising, has contributed travel articles to Trailer Life and Clubmex. She and her photographer husband Bob share a love of fishing and a fascination with Latin cultures, ancient and contemporary, two interests that blend seamlessly with the RV lifestyle. They travel often and extesively throughout Mexico, and have camped through Central America to the Panama Canal. We welcome her as a contributing author to RVers Online