We spent hours travelling between Oaxaca, Nochixtlán and Santiago Apoala yesterday. At 8 a.m. we left Oaxaca for Nochixtlán, where we ate in the market and inquired in a few stores before tracking down a roll of film for the Nikon F. After procuring all of our necessary supplies, we met up with Angél, an energetic man wearing a Che Guevara shirt. He directed us toward his Suburban and we took off through the campo toward Santiago Apoala.
We pulled over at an overlook, saw a few farm animals and peered down into the valley before making a pulque pit stop at a local man’s house. We stood next to giant cacti in the middle of a corn field and drank from plastic cups while our host showed us a cavity in the side of a cactus where the pulque ferments.
In Apoala, we visited the library, cathedral and city hall before walking through another corn field toward a waterfall. We visited this same town last year and hiked down to the bottom of the falls. Those photos can be viewed by clicking here. This year, I was not foolish enough to believe that I possess the physical endurance to climb back up from the bottom. Instead, we sat on a rock a quarter of the way down and watched others struggle as they made their way back up the mountain.
We reached the only restaurant in town just as a thunderstorm rolled in. There was some talk of the road potentially washing out along our planned route back to Nochixtlán, so we elected to take the longer, safer route back. A family of three was stranded in Apoala, and we invited them to share our Suburban back to town. It was a tight fit, so the driver squeezed the teenage son into the back with the baggage.
Good timing allowed us to board a van that was just pulling out bound for Oaxaca City. After suffering through the driver’s Linkin Park album, we rolled into the city, flagged down a local bus that was headed to San Felipe and dashed through a downpour back home.