Teenaged memories: Time travel in Izamal
(starting an occasional series of posts of personal memories long before blogging or Usenet)
In 1977, supposedly bright boy that I was, I was taking college classes at the age of 16, in Merida, Yucatan, Mexico. Between sessions I made a series of trips around the Yucatan Peninsula with Ms. B., from my perspecitive an exotically wise and worldly woman of 22.
We traveled by train, bus, and hitch-hiking. I have never hitch-hiked anywhere other than Yucatan.
We were on our way to Izamal, a Colonial era town built over one of the largest pre-Colombian Maya ruins. We were riding in the cab of a produce truck we'd flagged down. Our route visiting a series of other towns took us into Izamal not by the main highway, but along a road comming from the north. From miles away we could see the remains of the Izamal's great pyramid, so large that the Spanish Conquistadores decided it was too much trouble to level and they contented themselves with putting a cross on the top. As we got closer, the second highest building of the city was visible-- a yellow Colonial Spanish Convent, built atop the old Maya acropolis. Then on the outskirts of town, we stopped. The road was blocked by a train. Who knows how long it would be, so we thanked our driver and got out to walk.
It was a passenger train. We walked up the steps of the back balcony (what's the term?) of one of the passenger coaches and back down the other side to get to the other side of the train. We looked around and suddenly realized the train was pulled by a steam locomotive. A series of horse drawn Victorias were meeting passengers at the train to take them to the center of town.
There were no automobiles visible. Other than details of clothes fashion of the people, we could turn around 360 degress and see nothing to contradict the impression that we had suddenly traveled back in time a century. I have never since had so complete an experience of sudden unexpected time travel.
****
We later took the steam train back, just to take it. When I returned to the Yucatan in the 1980s I was disappointed to see the old locomotives replaced by much less picturesque diesels. What happened to the old trains?, I asked. I was told they were "sold to Walt Disney".
In 1977, supposedly bright boy that I was, I was taking college classes at the age of 16, in Merida, Yucatan, Mexico. Between sessions I made a series of trips around the Yucatan Peninsula with Ms. B., from my perspecitive an exotically wise and worldly woman of 22.
We traveled by train, bus, and hitch-hiking. I have never hitch-hiked anywhere other than Yucatan.
We were on our way to Izamal, a Colonial era town built over one of the largest pre-Colombian Maya ruins. We were riding in the cab of a produce truck we'd flagged down. Our route visiting a series of other towns took us into Izamal not by the main highway, but along a road comming from the north. From miles away we could see the remains of the Izamal's great pyramid, so large that the Spanish Conquistadores decided it was too much trouble to level and they contented themselves with putting a cross on the top. As we got closer, the second highest building of the city was visible-- a yellow Colonial Spanish Convent, built atop the old Maya acropolis. Then on the outskirts of town, we stopped. The road was blocked by a train. Who knows how long it would be, so we thanked our driver and got out to walk.
It was a passenger train. We walked up the steps of the back balcony (what's the term?) of one of the passenger coaches and back down the other side to get to the other side of the train. We looked around and suddenly realized the train was pulled by a steam locomotive. A series of horse drawn Victorias were meeting passengers at the train to take them to the center of town.
There were no automobiles visible. Other than details of clothes fashion of the people, we could turn around 360 degress and see nothing to contradict the impression that we had suddenly traveled back in time a century. I have never since had so complete an experience of sudden unexpected time travel.
****
We later took the steam train back, just to take it. When I returned to the Yucatan in the 1980s I was disappointed to see the old locomotives replaced by much less picturesque diesels. What happened to the old trains?, I asked. I was told they were "sold to Walt Disney".