I was cheered yesterday (Monday) morning by an e-mail from Tim telling me that another of my Found Poems has been accepted. It will be published on Wednesday at http://www.foundpoetry.org/blog/. I found it in a National Geographic dated February, 2003. That was a good start to the day.

We left Isla Aguada just before 9:00 o'clock, headed back to Villa Hermosa and its only RV park, Recreativo El Gordo y San Pancho. The ride was beautiful. There was a huge mangrove swamp bordered by trees that reminded me of lilacs. The blossoms were pinker than lilac blossoms, though. On a post in the middle of the swamp, a cormorant stood at attention, wings spread, completely motionless. A small heron flew past the windshield, apparently either taking off or landing, as its feet were hanging straight down. It looked incredibly clumsy.

Later, there was farmland. I noticed a cow with long, slender horns like half-screwed corkscrews. One horn curved up. The other curved down. The effect was very silly.

We were on a road that hugged the coast. The land was flat, all the way. We passed a peninsula border station, but nobody took our food this time. They don't care what you take out, it seems.

Speaking of food, we stopped for gas near Frontera at about 11:00 o'clock and saw that there was a Burger King next to the station – so instead of pulling over somewhere so that I could cook ham and egg sandwiches, we went into BK and had our brunch. I felt a little silly, and I could feel my arteries hardening, but I must say that my sausage and egg breakfast burrito tasted really good.

Some reports had the RV park, Recreativo El Gordo y San Pancho, closed, and some had it open, so we hunted it down – way down - a little dirt and pothole alley off Highway 180. It turned out that it was open, if barely. It was right beside a scrap yard, so Robin said security should be good, and it was. There was just one other rig there, a fifth wheel from Michigan. Its occupants were Steve and Sandra. They had been there for two weeks, waiting for a part for their fancy-schmancy diesel engine that nobody around there knows how to fix. We spent a very pleasant evening with them.

We were supposed to have electricity and water, but in fact we had only electricity. Had it been any day other than Monday, our 240 peso nightly rate would have included the use of the pool, but we chose the wrong day to arrive. Robin reported, uncharacteristically, that he would not be using the park's sanitary facilities, which made me suspicious of the pool anyway. Oh, and there was No Wi-Fi. If it had been at all practical to go on to one of the many RV parks along the Emerald Coast, we would have done so.– but we stayed, and then we headed out early this morning, leaving Steve and Sandra to await their rescue.

Things went pretty well for the first three or four hours, but then I noticed that a red warning light had gone on, indicating a brake problem. We pulled over when we could, and Robin checked the fluid level. It was low, so he poured in the bottle of fluid we carry for just such a situation.

We proceeded. The light went out, and the brakes firmed up. Shorly thereafter, the light went on and the brakes went soft again, then softer. Robin was driving by that time, and we were on the Autopista, the main highway. There was nowhere to stop, so he kept going, knowing that there was a Pemex station some distance up the road. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, closed my eyes, and tried not to think about it. The advantage to being on the Autopista was that there wasn't the need to keep braking for entrances and exits, other vehicles, topes – any of those things that make for slow going on the secondary roads. He just kept to a moderate speed and drove to the Pemex station, where we used pretty well the last of our stopping power to stop at the pump, filled up with gas and hired the mechanic to have a look at our brakes.

Robin is out there now, sitting by the RV, waiting for the young man to come back from Veracruz with a new brake line and connector. From what I could understand, which was not much, our brake line had been cut. We suspect that it happened when the tire blew, way back by Manzanillo, and that fluid has been slowly leaking away ever since.

Meanwhile, I am sitting in the air-conditioned Starbucks clone next to the Pemex, drinking decaf and eating a totally decadent cinnamon bun, hoping I understood what the young man was saying to me. I gave him 400 pesos to go to Veracruz and buy the part, and I'm pretty sure we were communicating, but he spoke no English at all, and I was picking up about every fourth word of his Spanish. A gaggle of Federales came into the coffee shop a few minutes ago, and I was going to ask them to give me a hand with translation, but only one of them knew any English, and he said he knew “un poco”. I decided there was no point in getting him involved, and I told him never mind. I got the impression he thought I was ever so slightly crazy.

All this is turning what was going to be a long day's drive into a very long day's drive. Unfortunately, there aren't any RV parks right near Veracruz (except the one we stayed in on the way down, which was awful and which is off our route this time, anyway). We were shooting for the Emerald Coast, where there are lots of parks, but that's quite some way off. We may just stay here for the night, or go on to the next Pemex station and sleep there.

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Okay, well, that worked out better than I expected. The young men didn't go to Veracruz to get the part. They manufactured it themselves, then installed it. The whole episode took two hours and cost 900 pesos (about $90), including parts and labour. The brakes are working fine. We drove to the Emerald Coast and arrived just after sunset. We were looking for a particular park, which we understood was attached to the Hotel de Alba. We never did find it, despite going up and down the entire row of parks and hotels a couple of times in increasing darkness. We did find the Hotel de Alba, but the receptionist there told us that the RV park of the same name was four kilometers back. We will find it in the morning. In the meantime, we have checked in at the RV park attached to the Hotel Torre Molino. Much of our traveling this afternoon was on roads that were in disgraceful condition. Most of them were toll roads, giving us to wonder what happens to all those tolls.

So. This has been an expensive day, and a long one. We plan to stay here (somewhere in this little enclave) for the next several days, resting, recovering, catching up to our budget.

Still in Isla Aguada

One more day here.

First thing this morning, I put on my bathing suit and walked down to the edge of the lagoon, determined to go for a swim. I was walking over broken shells as I got to the water, but they gave way shortly to sand, so that part was okay. But the water wasn't as lovely as I expected it to be. It wasn't cold, but it also wasn't clear. It seemed very murky to me, and it just didn't appeal at all, so I turned around and walked out again. There's a cold shower right near the entrance to the beach, so I settled for that. So, for my personal record, I have at least put my feet in the lagoon that''s connected (at the bridge) to the Gulf of Mexico.

After I spent an hour or so sitting outside, reading, I took a proper (hot) shower while Robin went for a bike ride. He came back a few minutes later, knocked on the door, and said "Bring a plastic bag." "What kind?" "The kind to hold some fish." I opened the door and there he stood, holding three fish. He claimed that he just put out his hands and they jumped in, but I didn't believe him. It turned out that he had been down the beach and had bought them from a fisherman who was there, cleaning his catch. So it seems we're having a fish fry tonight.

We had a short discussion today about what we should do now. We did plan to go all the way to Cancun, taking in Chichen Itza and Tulum along the way, but neither of us is doing well in this heat. I get up early, go outside for a little while, until it gets to be too hot, which doesn't take long, then retreat into the RV (or, as now, into the shade of an unfamiliar tree), and wait for it to get cool enough that I can stand to venture out. We are no longer seeing anything of the towns we're visiting. I have no interest in taking in the public market - unless they'll hold it at dawn or sunset. We aren't getting much exercise at all, and I, at least, don't feel well. It reminds me of summers in Ontario, when I used to sit on the sofa, not moving, just trying to breathe. Robin is a little better than I am at making the best of it, but that is what he's doing.

Hmmm. I seem to be thinking this through online. We left the final decision until this afternoon, but I think I'll vote for heading north tomorrow. Robin suggested we might spend some time in southern Texas, but for me, just going north in Mexico until we're out of the tropics would probably make all the difference.

I feel like a party pooper.

Isla Aguada, Campeche

We have escaped the viny clutches of the jungle, and from where I sit now, I can see the blue Gulf of Mexico. As we drove along the shore, we noticed that the water looked very green - emerald green was the closest we could come to describing it - but that must be a function of the time of day. It's certainly blue now. Robin has been swimming already, but I'm holding off, not quite ready to brave salt and sand again. I'm spoiled now by the swimming pools at Zihuatanejo and Palenque. I tried to have one last swim before we left Palenque, but somebody was vacuuming the pool, so I had to do without.

Our drive today was almost, but not quite, uneventful. Unfortunately, there's an inspection station at the entrance to the Yucatan Peninsula, where we were stopped and required to give up our bacon and ham and eggs and smoked pork chops. The inspectors didn't care about anything but pork and chicken products, so my fruit bowl full of mangoes and papaya, tomatoes and oranges survived the search, as did the last of the smoked salmon. As we drove away, we imagined the border guards sitting down to a lovely breakfast of bacon and eggs.

Speaking of chickens, I posted a blog entry about chickens over at the Red Room just a few minutes ago. It's a memoir called The Story of the Lone Rooster.http://www.redroom.com/member-blog/sandara.bc

When we arrived at this park - Freedom Shores, it's called - we found Marcia and Ray here. They were our neighbours in Catemaco. I still find it strange to arrive in a completely strange place and see familiar faces. Strange - but nice. This RV park is unique in Mexico, I believe, in that it is designed to be wheelchair-accessible. One of the owners uses a wheelchair, and he wanted to make this a holiday destination for people with mobility problems. Next year, he's planning to put in a 50 foot dock and start running day trips out to see the dolphins. The boat will be wheelchair-friendly.

We hoped to find some fish for sale on the beach, but we arrived too late in the day for that, so we ate dinner at the park's restaurant, instead. I ordered garlicky fish filets again. Robin had a whole mystery fish, and we both had salad. I love it when somebody else makes salad for me. I like eating it, but I can't stand making it. Now I'm looking forward to my dessert - the slice of flan I bought at Wal-Mart the other day. I almost forgot it was in the fridge, which would have been a shame. I love flan. Flan, and a comforting cup of decaf.

We will be here for a couple of nights, resting from too much driving, planning the last of the southward push.