Toledo: Dating back to antiquity

We devoted the morning walking through the narrow maze of cobblestone streets to antiquity. Toledo is mentioned in Roman History as far back as 59 BC because of the fierce battles they encountered against Celtic tribes. Under Roman control it was named "Toletum". The outer walls were expanded and fortified around the whole city. Roman architecture and aqueducts flourished. They also built a great circus for sporting games and chariot races, the race tracks are still visible today. After the Romans, the Visigoths ruled the city until the Moors conquered the peninsula early in the eight century until the reconquest by the Christian monarchy.

The large building on the background is the Alcazar of Toledo a stone fortification located 
at the highest part of the city. It was once a Roman palace. In the 1500 s. It was restored and 
       later played a very important role during Spanish Civil War. The Alcazar became a symbol
 of Spanish Nationalism. In present day it is the Castilla-La Mancha regional library, it also
 houses the museum of the Army.

El puente de San Martin is a medieval bridge across the river Tajo. It was constructed in the
late 14 century, still in use today

Mercedes' peek-boo greeting from Toledo Spain

The cobblestones twinkle after a light morning drizzle. Narrow streets 
make for a good "neighborhood watch program".

This street leads to the Cathedral of Toledo, you can see the tower.

 Primate Cathedral of Saint Mary of Todedo,  Established after the Moors capitulated in a 
bloodless take over by Spain.

A view of the Cathedral's tower

We arrived in Toledo early, we met our guide and walked through the narrow streets. 
 most part free of crowds. On the way out  to our coach it was a bit different.

This masterful work of art, by El Greco "The burial of Lord of Ordaz", has been on exhibition at the Church of Santo Tome in Toledo since the 1500 s. This work is considered universally as his greatest masterpiece. Art critics claim that it is the most beautifully crafted religious painting of all times. The painting is divided in two parts, heaven above and the burial scene below. Skyward elongated saints and angels in El Grecos' mannerist style. Below the terrestrial scene painted in normal proportions. Because the painting lacks horizon and perspective it achieves supernatural space and creates strange species of harmony.

Arizona: fishing or no fishing

Normally during the winter, Bob can be found doing home improvement projects, oiling his fishing reels, polishing his fishing poles. Other times, he putters around in bait and tackle shops, or swap meets foraging for classic fishing gear. He only purchases an item once-in-awhile, but his enjoyment is the  in-depth discussion with the old timers which helps him pass the time until  opening day in the Eastern Sierras.
Unable to wait for the "stinking opening day", he called, beckoning me to fish Arizona, "I can't wait until opening day...", he whimpered on the phone. I reminded Bob that half of our fishing group was busy, one was in Sacramento becoming a slum landlord and the other one was taking turns from multiple venues such as San Jacinto, happily taking care of his daughter who just given birth to his beautiful granddaughter, and Sonoma where he is helping his son repair a fixer-upper. "They won't mind. We can fish with them some other day". I stood firm against his forceful arguments and sound logic. But when he said, "Ill drive my new car and take care of the lodging". Well... what could I do! I just could not let my bosom amigo, a septuagenarian, drive alone all the way to Arizona. I felt compelled, for his safety, to accompany him. Furthermore knowing him, he might get into trouble with the notorious sheriff Arpaio.
Promptly, we found ourselves on the way to Chino Valley, Arizona. Bob was in good spirits but anxious to get going. "Let's rock and roll",  he shouted. "We have many hours ahead of us, let's go!" " What's the hurry... relax", I advised  him.  His zeal even caused the freeway to apologize for the distance and  duration between home and our destination.

With a full tank of gas, cruise control and driving skill, Bob was soon past Hwy 10. Now, we cruised down Rd. 89 towards Prescott, Arizona, along the Ponderosa forest. Unexpectedly he said, "We are almost there" "How do you know?" I asked. Exhilarated he answered, "Oh...I just remembered I have been here before". Hmmmm ...

Prescott, Arizona unfolded before our eyes... Rd. 89 giving way to Montezuma Ave. A few blocks further we parked in the heart of the historic section on Court House plaza. Our host Danny aka Angelo greeted us. He and Bob have been friends since childhood, growing up in el barrio Hayes of  El Monte, Ca.

Above, Bob and Danny reminiscing on days of yesteryear. The time they were in kindergarten was
 fresh in their minds... the "travesuras" fondly remembered.

Having adapted nicely to the leisurely western atmosphere of Prescott, the following day we decided to get out to the lakes. The first one on our list was Lynx, an ample body of water with a boat ramp.

Bob is pictured to the right, taking inventory of depth, currents, shore line, inlets and the catches of other anglers. After learning that it was stocked over three weeks ago, he advises us to pass on this one. Our next stop was Williams Lake, a much larger body of water complete with state of the art ramps, BBQ grills and plenty of shade structures.

At this lake, Bob chatted extensively with a number of anglers who had been here for hours but had no fish. By this time, were were getting hungry and realized that we had not purchase an Arizona fishing licence. Bob said, "Lets get back to town and get something to eat". " I know just the place", said Danny,  "You'll love it"!  We journeyed back to Waffles-N-More, one of Danny's favorite eating joints. We agreed, the menu was extensive, reasonable and appetizing. I found the biscuits and gravy out of this world! Danny preferred a bone-in slab of  ham, and home made fries.  Bob settled for oatmeal. After good natured table talk reminiscent of years gone by, we headed out to Danny's ranch.
Upon leaving the main boulevard, we embarked on a smooth graded carriageway. Bob, a closet lover of  open fields, agricultural terrain and farm animals was overcome by pure enjoyment. He was like a kid in a candy store. He toured the onion, garlic and bean fields, all the while asking questions only a farmer would be interested in: fertilizer, water well, irrigation method etc. Danny took us to survey his fruit trees and different chile plants. " I have a surprise for you", Bob said to our host, and he took out a assortment of seeds. "I brought you these seeds. They are some of my prized specimens". Danny assured him that they would be planted, cared for and that he would send him ample samples of the harvest. They gave each other a warm abrazo.

Time seemed to be flying by, specially after a few libations among friends. It was time to feed the animals, Bob jumped on the back of the pick up truck and headed out to the barn to load hay and vegetables for the animals.

 Animals seem to take to Bob warmly, this donkey was the first to approach  
and got the biggest carrot.

Look at those big brown eyes focusing, loving, on Bob.  

Instinctively, he knew just how much hay to feed the goats. He also
 wanted to  learn how to make goat cheese.

At 75 and feeling like superman, Bob wanted to jump on a horse and ride around.
Danny and I convinced him that it was not a good idea. He insisted, until I warned that
 I would call his daughter, if necessary. That quickly brought him back to his senses...
  he had another glass of Merlot instead.

Our last day was spent exploring the town and visiting historical sites. Albeit feeling a little intimidated by a whole bunch of, primarily young men, toting their guns in public. Arizona's open gun policy.
Bob was approached and asked to contribute to sheriff Arpaio's re-election campaign. "Is that the guy who makes prisoners wear pink pajamas?..." He asked  smiling, "let me think about it.". After expressing our gratitude and attention afforded us by Danny, a fraternal abrazo was in order. Now we headed back home.

Javier: Dozing off, somnolence or just meditating.

Over the years we bought him maps, provided clear directions, sent him reminders and phone calls until we realized that information only confuses him. Regardless, we accept him the way he is-- he has no notion of time or space. He gets lost even with the navigation system guiding him. Javier is late to every appointment or event, but he will arrive. Tense and absent minded, he thinks he is on time. Soon he becomes bored, disquiet, starts fidgeting and will cease taking part in conversations... he has fallen asleep. After so many years of friendship, we are well aware, that's just the way he rolls.

Taking into account that I have known Javier since our college days and worked together for most of our professional lives,  I was well aware of his hyperactivity, short attention and inquisitive mind. Which along with his supportive and caring attitude made him a good candidate to be my compadre. I also sponsored him into the Old Men's Anglers Society.

As it turned out Javier has become an excellent partner for Jorge aka, el perico (the parrot) yes, the one who never stops talking! As soon as they both get into the back seat of the suburban, they initiate a volley of ideas and topics back and forth. El perico doing most of the talking until, predictably, Javier falls asleep. Nevertheless Jorge just keeps on talking to himself... That is the brilliance in pairing them up. One is bla, bla, bla... and the other one is Z z z z z... Due to the frequency of his naps he was christened, el dormido. (the sleeper) .

 With Bob, sleeping at the airport in Loreto, Baja California,  waiting for the flight home
 after fishing dorados. Not even jet noise could keep him awake.

On the way to the Sierra Nevada, Javier as always catching his ZZZ ...

On a chilly spring morning in the Eastern Sierras above the town of Bishop, our newest apprentice was eager and enthusiastic. It was his first time attempting the fine art of fresh water fishing. From the onset, we were very impressed with his fishing equipment. His designers fishing poles and reels, a tackle box splendidly stocked, with the latest assortment of baits and popular scents His fishing lines all very neatly arranged by size, color and weight. We complimented  him for his choice of fishing poles and brand name equipment. It wasn't until our second trip when he confessed that his son was the one who stocks his tackle and purchases his gear. Bob said, "I knew it! no wonder he wasn't familiar with the tackle; he had no idea on how to use it". Nowadays Javier is very comfortable fishing or sleeping on the side of a lake.

Here he is, wide awake  at one of his favorite streams, fighting a rainbow trout.

Persistence is one virtue that Javier possesses. No matter how much he sleeps, he does want to catch his limit of fish. He starts slowly each morning wiping the sleep from his eyes, setting up his fishing pole and casting out into the water. It may take him awhile but he'll go strong for a while after a few fish he becomes unfocused and begins to loose interest. Soon he'll set up his chair and... it's siesta time.

When he is out cold, no one can wake him up. When asked, "were you asleep again"?
 His standard answer always is,  "I was just meditating". Right!

 Javi is an important member of the team, he is Javier's son and the one
 responsible for taking care of his daddy out in the Sierras. He ensures that his
dad has all the equipment in working order. Helps him find good fishing spots
 and teaches him to bait the hooks and most importantly bring the fish in.

Up in the Sierras, there are no signals that tell us to quit for the day. Rather it's the rhythm of the winds on the trees, the quietness on the water and our bodies that inform us it's time to head down the mountain. As we carefully make our way down the winding roads, el perico is yammering at full speed and volume "yakiry, yak ..." the one that got away, who caught the most and... "bla, bla, bla". The rest of the members have their earphones on, listening to their music.  Javier is in deep sleep. A few minutes later, I sensed a quietness in the suburban, when I looked back this is what I found.

Meditating or sleeping? Not even el perico's  unreserved loquacity could keep Javier awake. 

El Perico, on the other hand, takes time out, from his prolonged communication skills, 
to join Javier in a snooze.

At the end of the day, Javier and Javi  proudly show of their stringers, now they are of to the
cleaning station.

On the way down the mountain, it became clear to me that somnolence is contagious, el perico and el dormido are both dreaming of the one that got away. Yours truly continued, carefully, driving down the winding road. We pulled into a wonderful Italian restaurant. Ill have a glass of Merlot...tomorrow we'll attempt the walker river, while my friends continue with their siestas.

Jorge's pursuit for a hobby

By some measures Jorge is a proud Mexican, never forgetting his roots. Like his rustic rancho in Delicias-delights, in the northern state of Chihuahua Mexico. To this day you can still find him, at anytime,  in a pilgrimage to the eternal land of his ancestors. Now it is a modern city with the largest water dam in the state, best know for its agriculture and pecan fields. The apologia for his seasonal treks are his family members and the tempered beauty of  land he embraces and that summons him with vibrant memories of his youth and a longing to delve deeper into his culture. His closest friends appreciate that he wears el nopal en la frente with pride.

Because of the circumstances faced by many well-to-do Mexicanos during the Mexican revolution his ancestors were forced to be exiles in the U.S., settling in California. Here the Garcia's would make their mark. With a strong desire to succeed, many members of the Garcia clan have become highly successful and productive citizens of the United States.

My compadre Jorge waiting for his wife after Sunday church services.

I first met Jorge when we were young school administrators in Los Angeles.  We have become friends and compadres ever since. Over the years we have seen our children grow. Now that we have been retired for a number of years I noticed that he seemed bored. He tried golf: didn't like it. He tried tennis: it was too fast for him. He tried racket ball: I kept beating him. He started gambling becoming a regular at most of the Indian casinos in California and indulged in monthly trips to Vegas. He said he did "all right" but was soon back at work earning more money to gamble. One day we invited him to lunch and the first words out of his mouth were:
" Retirement depresses me ". He stated that his days have become predictable and routine. Finding himself getting out of bed later and later each morning. He had developed a habit of watching telenovelas, soap operas with such tear jerking titles as;  La hija del mariachi and Que bonito amor.  " I just love them, my favorite is..." he stops for a moment... and shouts, "You see why I need to join your fishing team. I need to be out with the guys !".

                                   
Since that realization he has been working hard with Bob, our expert angler, becoming more competent in the sport. On his first outing with the group to to the Eastern Sierra Nevada, he was in high spirits. Rushing out the car upon arrival at Intake II lake, he marvels at the tall pines. "Man I love it here" he shouted gazing at the green fluttering aspens surrounding the lake. Prancing towards the lake, he splashes the water, "It's cold! ", he shouts again. Bob finally settles him down and helps him with his fishing gear. " I love the scent of nature in the morning ", he blurts out, anxiously sitting down for a relaxing day of fishing.
Jorge allows himself to relax with full knowledge and awareness of the task. Only performance will help him release the total pressure. After repeated casts into the lake and losing a few fish, he continues to persevere. Being a baseball fan, he understands that stopping at third base adds nothing to the score of the game. "I've got to catch one," he murmurs as he religiously crosses himself asking assistance from the Almighty.

The best way to succeed in fishing is to act on the advice given by other anglers, like Bob and Nick, whom Jorge credits with helping him succeed. Here he is taking time to feed the ducks behind him. At the lower right hand of the picture you can see a couple of small rainbow trout on his line. "I love being in the outdoors" he cheers. "Even my high blood pressure has subsided! " I reminded him that he is also learning the virtue of patience.

By the third day of our trip, he was in heaven, the first one to bring in a couple of trouts and was more introspective about his surroundings; absorbing the terrain, spotting wildlife, viewing and  identifying birds. He instantly fell in love with the vastness of the forest, its clean blue skies... He was amazed at the intensity of white haired  waterfalls ". Invite me again next year", he shouted with excitement.
On the way back to the cabin, he confided that this was the best fishing vacation he ever had. "I remember when I was a little boy, my uncles would take me fishing in the water dam in Delicias, but I don't remember having as much fun as this".

With a week full of adventure with good friends, we head back home. Driving south on highway 395, we stopped for gas in the town of Bishop, better know as the mule capital of the world. The town is an excellent spot for resting and resupplying anglers, skiers and mountain climbers. After filling-up and adding ice to our cooler, Javier asked, "where's Jorge?" "I know exactly where he is" said Bob. To our dismay, we found him glued to a slot machine inside the Indian casino next to the gas station. I couldn't help wondering if gambling is a hobby or vice.

In Pursuit of Rainbow Trout

Three weeks ago I received an early morning call from Jorge aka "el perico" A pleasant surprise. Because parrots and he are not known as an early birds. "What's the status of the fishing trip?", he demanded to know. "I haven't received any information, are you'll trying to leave me out?" I tried to assuage his pain informing him that every thing was going smoothly and he should be getting an e-mail soon. "Don't forget I want my own room!" he bellowed... ending the call. In truth his call was a timely reminder to get the information out.

 El Perico was in charge of  refreshments and making meal arrangements for the trip. He tried his best to supply the group with a variety of drinks and other thirst quenchers, but of course the group found his efforts lacking when, remorselessly, he brought a cooler full of premium drinks for himself. For the rest of the group, he had a cooler full of lower quality drinks. Needless to say the Satyr was less-than- happy with his blunder. He exclaimed, " I am not drinking that cheap beer". Javier added, " I've seen that water for $2.19 for 48 bottles at the hardware store. It became a moral imperative to stop at a Grocery store and replenish our coolers. At this point, it was the only decent thing to do. Perico's selection of restaurants for the evening meals was more prosperous. Each evening he selected an A rated establishment with different culinary specialty. The whole group was pleased with his taste and selections. In truth, I felt a lot better the group seemed to forget his earlier miscalculation.

Convict Lake proved to be a difficult  place too hook up trout this week, they were just not interested in ending in a pan with onion, butter and garlic.

We had reservations  in Bishop CA for a week of fishing, relaxation, good food and friendship. Everyone assembled on time at perico's home. Four hrs. later we were at 8,600 ft. altitude casting our lines for that elusive six pound rainbow trout. Javier elected this propitious moment to inform us that his son, Javi, aka, The Sacramento Stinger would not be joining us because of previous commitments. This was a  crushing blow to the much anticipated contest between the Yucaipa Satyr vs the Sacramento Stinger. I should mention, there would be many disappointed anglers in the lake this week. Of course perico has his own ideas as to why the stinger didn't show up. The Satyr was equally disappointed he was looking forward to trashing that young whipper-snapper. Javier valiantly, but foolishly said, "Ill step in and take my son's mantle, it's a matter of family honor". "No way!"  perico protested. No doubt a rouse to save Javier added embarrassment. "That would be plebeian", he added. That was the end of the contest. Later  perico confided his thoughts to me, as to why the Sacramento Stinger failed to show. "Yo creo tubo miedo,  I didn't want Javier to get taken to the out house by the Satyr".

Interlocken lake as usual provided us with excellent fish. It is a wonderful place to fish all along it's shore with plenty of shade and comfortable surroundings and utilities.

Limits for everyone in our group. Bob, the virtuoso angler, was in charge of charting the areas we would be targeting each morning. Armed with relief  maps, GPS locations wind current and moon charts  he selected, for our first day, Interlocking, a small water hole on route 166 some 12 miles up the mountains from Bishop. Upon our arrival we noticed some fifty people fishing the area. Bob jettison his four lb. line some forty yards and immediately hooked an excellent size rainbow. This pattern continued, with in fifteen minutes he reached his limit. This gave him the opportunity to share his skills with other fisherman and kids who had been there for hrs. with out catching anything. Soon he had a crowd around him seeking his advice and wisdom. An ephemeral time later everyone was bringing them in. His face could not hide his satisfaction when kids got their limits. Bob's philosophy is that fishing is an active sport. "You have to stand up to fish, always hold your pole in your hand. This will allow you to feel the fish nibbling your bait" His impression is that those people who just come to the lake to sit and put the pole on a holder are not true anglers. He calls them  "passive amateurs who just want to pass the day in the open air, soak-up the sun, reading  books". "There is nothing wrong with that", he added, "but they are not true fisherman".

Nicko getting a little shade

A with a smile or just a simper Perico displays his catch for the first day

On the lake Perico was eager to show  Satyr that the lessons he received from him paid great dividends. He prepared his own gear; made his own leaders and quickly was in the water. I know that he is a faux-religious man. But never-the-less I would hear a whispering  prayer each time he cast his line, followed by a "humph" sound . He swears he caught his limit on this trip, bu no one would certify his claim. There is something to say about adult learning it's slower, but more meaningful. Well done Perico

 Nicko our youngest angler was a most ardent supporter of the old timers he helped all them bring in the fish, helped those with poor eyesight hook their line through the hook. Untangle lines and still managed to catch his  limits each day. He proudly informed us that he will be starting at St. John Bosco  High School in a couple of weeks. "We hope you will continue joining us for a few more years". Bob said. Javier replied, "I'm sure he will, if we can invite other young anglers to come along. I saw him teaching other young newbies the art of lake fishing".

After the few days spent up in God Country we headed home. Nicko as always goes home with his prized catch. I proudly reminded the group that he consistently come in second place, "yes right after me", Bob said. "I'm sure he will surpass you soon", Javier added.

A happy young apprentice with a great catch for Mom.

Jenks Lake Fishing

(click on pictures for larger view)

With summertime upon us my fishing buddies have been eager to begin our wanderlust fishing adventures. None more eager than my "compadre" Jorge, you may recall it was extremely difficult for him to accompany us on many of our trips last year. Bob invited us to fish his lake at the foothills of Yucaipa, some 80 miles from Los Angeles. Jorge is very eager to try-out his expensive new fishing gear, he even volunteered to drive his new Tundra.
With all of our gear, food and refreshment on board and much anticipation we headed east towards the San Bernardino mountains. According to my calculations we should be on the lake in an hour and twenty minutes. But wait, Jorge drove past the freeway entrance, bewildered I asked "What happened? you missed the on ramp", "don't worry" he said, "I know where I'm going" He drove five miles further to his favorite gas station where he proceeded to chat with the attendant and other customers, drink coffee, eat sweet rolls and finally pump the gas.

Twenty minutes later we entered the freeway. We were listening to the world cup soccer game between Mexico and France when all of the sudden he turned off the radio. "Mejor vamos a platicar", he wanted to chat; we discussed retired life, stock market, world events, home improvements etc. About this time I informed him we were driving too slow in the pool lane and every other lane was going faster than we were. He responded that they were bad drivers and he has never had a traffic citation, never-the-less he moved over to the slow lane and we returned to the world cup game. By the time we reached San Bernardino, an hour late, he needed to make another pit stop after twenty minutes we continued our trek. We finally reached Jenks lake two hour and twenty minutes after leaving LA.

Our good friend and fishing pro. Bob was waiting for us, he was very exited because he had already brought in some "lunkers", big-ones. While I prepared my gear, Bob quickly took Jorge under his tutelage, with a perfectly distilled mixture of experience, skill and swagger. He proceeded to instruct his young apprentice the finer skills of rainbow trout fishing starting with rigging the hook, line and sinker following with the difficult long casts necessary to hit the sweet spot and proper procedure on landing the fish, taking out the hook and into the cooler.



After Bob's fishing workshop we are ready to fish this beautiful lake. Everyone with due diligence finds a fishing spot. As the day goes by we notice that Jorge keeps putting fish in his cooler,
a sure sign that he has his mojo working. We take a break for refreshments and lunch and again we realize Jorge's exceptionalism; Bob and I have plain sandwiches, cokes and beer. He brought ice tea, fine coffee, fruit salad, goat cheese, grapes, croissant sandwiches and white wine. He is obviously a gourmet and and aficionado of the finer things of life.
After lunch Bob and Jorge continue their sterling
performance of bringing them up while, I enjoy a a peaceful day with good friends. Bob takes the opportunity to teach us "how to read" the lake; identify deep spots, rock formations under water, the importance of water plants and weeds, wind direction, currents and water temperature at different depths. He insists that trout have very acute senses such as smell, therefore do not introduce foreign substances such as sun tanning lotion or cologne when handling your bait. sight, don't move around, trout have a close range of vision and most important sound, trout according to him pick up on voices, vibrations, water splashing so "keep noise to a minimum". He advises no radios, bells or rattles on fishing poles-if you want a good fishing day.

As we head home the natural beauty of the mountains scrolls through the windshield and we realize how peaceful it is to be away from the big urban centers; cluttered freeways, noise and hassle of the city. Something happens when you are fishing with good friends. You have an opportunity for reflection, recollection and renewal. Just about that time my "compadre" reminds us of his skill and luck he is the only one taking home a cooler full of fish. Great job Jorge.

photos: courtesy of Bob Venegas

Stay tuned: for more fish tales

El Tajin; Veracruz,Travel

As my compadre and I debriefed our stay in Tlacotalpan, we agreed we had achieved our objective; listening to some outstanding musical Jaranero groups . We learned a great deal about the music, decimas, dances and culture of this beautiful part of Mexico Lindo. We also decide to, cut our stay short. Early next morning we were on the road heading north on Mex.180. The unspoiled, natural beauty of the countryside leaves you breathless. We leisurely continued north admiring the open spaces and hills adorned with the wonderful aroma of coffee, citrus groves and vanilla plantations. Soon we were turning onto Mex 130., After a few hrs. on the road we arrived in Papantla, the magical town, also known as the city that perfumes the world, a quaint colonial town with all the comforts of home. Built on the side of a mountain slope with cool breezes that constantly sweep through the town. We found a nice quiet hotel, after checking in we strolled around the town searching for a restaurant, eager to taste the local cuisine. The reader may recall that Javier considers himself a budding poet and song writer, so when he saw the name of a restaurant he exclaimed, "aqui vamos a comer", the restaurant's name "Por si acaso me recuerdas" If by chance you remember me.
My compadre felt the name was poetry :) located in calle Juan Enriquez #102 Papantla Mex. I felt that the real poetry was the food. A very intimate place no more than six tables. The cuisine? typical home cooking from Veracruz all prepared by Doña Rufina a friendly, jovial woman.Her husband Don Roque eagerly sat us down and explained the menu. We ordered a delicacy know as nopalitos con costillitas de puerco en mole, rice and black beans with tortillas calientitas topped off with a refreshing negramodelo, it was delicious. After our delightful meal and pleasant conversation with Conchita our waitress, we strolled slowly back to our hotel.
Papantla is popular place for tourist who are interested in ancient civilizations, the two main attractions in Papantla are the archaeological site at "El Tajin" and the "Voladores". The following morning, we got an early start and headed to "El Tajin" which means the place of rain and thunder in the Totonac language.
We arrived early, the morning was cool and crisp
and we were the first visitors in the center which means we had the place all to ourselves for the least two hours or so.
It is generally believed that the Totonacan civilization is responsible for building the site.
As we walked in we were drawn to a magnificent pyramid named "Piramide de los Nichoes" It is believed that it's 365 niches represent a calendar year it is said that they would light a small fire in each niche which marked the passing of time. The pyramid is also considered as one of the finest pre-Colombian Pyramids in Mexico.

Javier welcoming us to El Tajin

El Tajin has been recognized as a world heritage site by UNESCO it is also the archaeological place which displays the highest degree of artistry in the coastal area of Mexico. It is believed that El Tajin reached its peak between AD 650-1200. During this time hundreds of of native structure were build in this region. It wasn't until 1785 when Spanish engineers happened upon the site.



Above you can see the Pyramid "de los nichoes"

The site is meticulously kept, you can find a museum a souvenir
shop and a number of vendors and restaurants at the entrance
Throughout the day you can see the "Voladores de Papantla"
perform their dance and rituals. If you visit come early and have
a great time without the crowds.





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