My car made it, but the duct tape didn't
The drive back to Tampico was uneventful. We drove endlessly along the pavement stretching from Putney to Brownsville, Texas, flinching every time we passed a reminder of the 60’s – “On Birmingham Sunday a noise hit the ground and the choirs kept singing of freedom.”
Every night that we stopped the hotel got seedier, until the last night when we had to change rooms due to some mysterious bugs I found in my bed. The border crossing was uneventful, and I was pleased with my ability to communicate in Spanish. We met the escort caravan on the other side of the Brownsville, Texas border, and chased it for a few hours. Then we were on our own for the last half of the trip without a hitch.
I miss my aloneness in a way. I was not lonely before, a little achy but busy and driven enough to work, study Spanish and walk, walk, walk. Now I have a car, David and my dear friend Valerie is here for a visit. She has decided to leave Tampico. When she leaves, our friend Peter from Putney will visit.
The brief bit of beautiful weather that we had here before the Christmas vacation is gone now – replaced by a cold damp rain, day after day (as if Tampico did not have enough water). It is dreary, but I did get a chance to sneak to the beach with Valerie and David last weekend.
So the piles of cement are still here, the broken water pipes block the streets and all of the vehicles are a mud brown and the people are beautiful, kind, and warm.