Pfuegesaison 1943 to a peasant plowing his field in the heart of Mexico, as the earth suddenly breaks up and it starts to auszurauchen. He tried the mishap with stones and earth to bring back in order, but no chance. So he decides to run away but to look for and that was good. For out of the field grows, the volcano Paricutin and covers the villages around it with lava. Only the foundations of the Church to resist and stand up today in the rugged lava fields. This story has little Jeremy, read the youthful Vulkanfan and so we must go now because, of course. Four funny buses later we find ourselves everywhere in a small town / large village at 2300 m above sea level with the same amount of horses such as cars, wood and stone hoe's and dust. We found a very nice accommodation, a room with a fireplace! Caspar and I have now played little bear and little tiger (Janosch - Wers not known) and were quite happy with our little house with a chimney. Jeremy, we can
In the very next dawn sent to the volcano so he childhood marriage (a) execute and he was in record time for lunch back again. Once in the dark forest, a freezing Mexicans lost without breakfast made himself a bit passed up at sunrise, once around the crater around it, sliding down and the tourist stream to meet back home.
The boys have played in the meantime volcano and buried the cars and trains in gray dust and sand. (We have now already lost 10 little cars That's incredibly fast leave just before the room -.. Off the bus in one. impossible drop slot - gone. forget the Cafe a half hour under the table - away. etc. What I most regret is that we lost yesterday, Thomas the Tank Engine, Caspar's favorite. No idea where. He does indeed laser-Enser than me, but I am afraid of the time, where again both want to play along trains and we only have Rosie.)
are the afternoon we then rode on two old horses are buried church, which is really impressive but unfortunately full of tourists. At night it is freezing cold at this altitude. The fire proved to be a good Erdaepfelbratofen, there is little warmth from the room. So we have all our sweaters worn in bed and my Hygienevorstelltungen (dirty Garment outside, clean clothing in bed) have had another go. All freeze better. But the dirt I do have to create. The streets are so full of garbage, the dirty water flows out of the house, and attack without too much one is black with dust. And of course to Mr. Quentin falls constantly attacking everything and I'm just more "Ahhhhhhh!" and pick out it back on. In general, I have one month minimum standard (Jeremy thinks we travel anyway very upper class - almost always with beds, sometimes even hot shower) has reached a point where I for a few days at home (our bed, clean clothes, hot tub and only my own dirt!) would be quite something. But at home no more. This must we create all over again. (Which must have lasted for days)
decorated in the village gabs a very beautiful church, with infinite Christmas Chuck and beep to this shimmering lights and the carols. And although several different songs. A Geflirr of electronics such as a choir of angels from the computer. Prior to the Church least 20 liebevollst designed cribs, with whatever the people had Sun One - two Jesus children, a few other figures, mostly animals, at least, Kuschelkuehe, Sparbuechsentiere, a paradise for Caspar.
After three nights we traveled on to Patzcuaro (www.patzcuaro.com). A wonderfully friendly city with colonial architecture and great Kuenstlergemeinde. One could come back once poor Yet. There are nice cafes in Arcardengaengen, Markgelaende huge and very friendly people. The city is not far from the same lake, where we are like all other good tourists also Groest island down, climbed up and climbed into the really impressive monument of Don José María Morelos. In his sleeve you can - get out and look at all has a great view of lake and fishing and - one is a normal weight.
It's funny but by being away with the children, we fall for ever. Often, a stranger on the bus said to us - yes, I saw you yesterday in the city. " Or is Jeremy asked by total strangers, "Where are women and children?" The blond niños fall to be petted and photographed and of course presents. Quentin once about the market and we have at least one free Marakuja, Satsuma or something unknown, he looks longingly. The fruit here is really a dream - of tropical delights and apple and strawberries the lot. Many know me from previous trips and we do not take us by slowly. The children still taste the tortillas - Caspar always filled with potatoes or rice (apparently 4 years old need a lot of carbohydrates) Quentin loves almost everything. Except it is sharp. As we've often had tears because my boys Chilli have not absorbed in human milk and there are a bit sensitive. By that, everything with lime, salt and chilli eaten. And all this really. With fruit are to beer (salt rim, lime squeezed into it and chilli varieties on the edge). Limonene are old friends of mine who Chillis rather good friends and certainly not at this intensity. What they may not be as dairy products. The butter is a Margarinevermantsch, the natural yogurt full of sugar and additives, the cream - I say nothing. But Austrians Austrians are there possibly a bit ambitious. And what I've missed to Patzcuaro in his home country is decent chocolate. There is almost never signs in the supermarkets. But in Patzcuaro I got to kneel down for hot chocolate, dark, bitter, spicy, saehmig, hot. Now I am a bit since reconciled.
Vegetarians have also semi-funny. Is already a very carnal kitchen. And if you look at how we nourished mainly street Stan punching you see beautiful as they roast in a roasting pan, the whole chickens with the potatoes and the Gemeuse how meat is scraped hastily to the side and my egg is druebergeklatscht and find out more. It tastes so much like hearty.
Yes and now we are back in Zamora - finally back in a washing machine - and yesterday have a very nice Altjahrsfeier spent. Yolanda's family has served up great, there were an infinite number of uncles and aunts, cousins, Hochzeitsgaestinnen there, Caspar was so excited that he did not sleep until he came to the Pary at 23:00 and is then weggebueselt the first bite of potato. Quentin has previously slept 3 hours and then has held out until 3 clock. New Year celebrations here are mainly private. Because you can not drink publicly and fireworks is prohibited offiell there is little incentive to hang around on the street. Really a relatively quiet New Year at a time when in Austria was again tomorrow. We really fit well, except that of course we had to get up again at 7:00. Caspar was the toilet and breakfast. C'est la vie.
For us, this month's travel so much, we feel as if much more time passed. 2008 is definitely to become a fat years.
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