Leaving the coast I headed to Guadalajara to stay with friends of Marcins’, Erik, Maria and their two young children. They welcome me into their home, and their family life. A friend of the family who was also into motorcycles, Juan Pablo came around for dinner and I had the delight of cooking up some local wild mushrooms that Erik, my host had bought from the market of his family holiday home from where they had just returned from a long weekend away.
Guadalajara is a fabulous town to walk around. Huge old, fabulous buildings. Artworks. Sculptures. Street entertainment. Mariachis. Making for a brilliant day wandering around.
Of course the food was excellent, and again I had trouble keeping my eyes to the size of my stomach. Often asking as I walked by stands ¿Como se llama esto?, What is this called? ¿Puedo probar?, Can I try some? My want to try too many items often led me to hand over my purchases to the homeless people begging on the streets, who seemed very happy to receive half a torta, a cup of fruit mixed with chili and lime, some strange mix of sweets, in order that I had room to try more. At least my curiosity did not go to waste.
My friend and host Erik also helped also assisting me get the bike serviced at the local BMW dealers to check out a dodgy clutch that had been bothering me for a few days; the bike often locking in gear, not the best thing on the mountain passes, where I had been moving through the gears constantly. Even though a native Spanish speaker had explained the problem over the phone before I arrived, it required the assistance of three ‘translators’ when I arrived, one just passing by who heard my interactions! But thankfully after 24 hours my bike was returned to me running well, the clutch sorted, new oil, new flushed coolant (from my mishap with the water pump), tightened searing head bearings, and nicely cleaned as well ;)
I took a trip down to the town of Tequila, and saw how the towns namesake was made, and of course to sample a little ;)
However I held off my purchases until on my way out of Guadalajara as I headed to the little town of Atotonilco el Alto where I had heard they had the sweetest, smoothest tequila on the market, a present for Marcin who would be coming to meet me on the road in a month. After my tasting some English speaking tequila lovers from the north of the state, who had also sought out this distillery, assured me it was one of the best as we all walked out with bottles of the extra añejo.