Random Events: The water boils, not really

Hey there, readers. How about another update on an event that took place in the past--but didn't make it to blog out of shear laziness...?On an unusually sunny Sunday morn, my pal Suzanne, Chicu and Tubo (the dog) decide to make another attempt in the Giant Monster Van out towards Tlacolula. This time our goal is not a sleepy town market, but the sulfurous mineral deposits of Hierve el Agua (literally, the water boils, in Spanish. However, a caveat, the water does not actually boil). Hierve el Agua is a small mountain village about an hour outside the city, perched atop green mountains, overlooking on unbelievable landscape. I'd been there years ago with my college abroad group--but it was sparsely attended, and rather cold.

We're heading west out of town, past Tule--the famous Cypress tree--burning up the gas Suzanne had purchased weeks ago. When we finally get to the turn off for Hierve el Agua, the road turns from pavement to dust and rocks. We wind slowly up the side of a mountain, the drop off a mere foot from the outer rim of the GMV's wheels. Suzanne nuzzles into the ruff of Tubo's neck and avoids looking at the view, and sheer downward slope. Chicu keeps mentioning how beautiful it is. And some cynical part of my brain keeps thinking, "Yea, yea, it's gorgeous," in a dry tone. It's not until days later when I load the pictures into my computer that I realize how extremely beautiful it really was.

We have to literally climb and descend an entire mountain to get to the second rise that takes us to Hierve el Agua. I am driving like a pro, people. Oh yea, there's no major problems with the GMV when we're scaling mountains, only when I'm doing something innocuous like filling the tank! It's just $15 pesos to enter the area, run by the local community. I've heard rumors that they've had numerous disputes about how to manage the area amongst themselves, so that on occasion it is closed for no reason. The state's tourism office no longer gives out official information about the area, as they don't have regular contact with the local community that is reliable, apparently.

However, we have no problems today. We park under some shade and unload ourselves and the dog. Small taco stands line up in an L along the gravel parking lot. There are bathrooms and changing spaces. There's a remarkable new structure of buildings standing in a C curve around a newly built infinity pool. The plan is to rent cabins to tourist, and place the taco stands into the buildings around the pool.

We head downhill towards the natural pools of water created by sulfur deposits. One sits right on the edge of a cliff. Unbelievable! Suzanne and Chicu take a dip (I've forgotten to bring my suit). We lament not thinking to bring beer down the hillside with us, as we longingly look at the other Americans sitting with toes in the pool, Negro Modelos on the lips. Next time, next time.

We get a bite to eat, Tlayuda quesadillas with chorizo and a beer makes the afternoon complete. So we load back into the car, a bit damper, but happy, and watch as the mountain village disappears behind a green ridge, the GMV snaking up and back the hillside. A good day.