To everyone's relief, we crossed into Mexico without incident-almost. We were feeling pretty confident about finding Customs (it is not right at the border as in the US and Canada) and getting processed because we had done it several times before on our way to the Mexican National Rally. So imagine our surprise when we found it but the gates were locked and on closer examination, the entire parking lot was under water! This was the first evidence we saw of the recent storms that have flooded the countryside.
So it was off to find another Customs office and we didn't have to go far to find it ten miles east in Phar. The processing went relatively quickly and we were soon on our way south with both bikes and people documented for travel.
Not long after, we came upon our first military checkpoint and found with a woman leading and a cheery “Hola!”, inspections were cursory and quick. At least two were. At the third checkpoint, they lined all the bikes up nose to tail and a soldier held what looked like a 'witching stick' and walked down the line. He did this several times and each time the stick turned and pointed at Ross. The officer who stopped us explained they were searching for ammunition or drugs and I assured him we had neither. Just as I said that, they pulled out Ross' bulging medicine bag so I tried to explain that we had malaria medicine for six months and that Ross was an old, sick man and had other medicines for various aliments in sundry parts of the body which I didn't have Spanish words for so I pointed them out. By this time, they were convinced we were harmless hypochondriacs and waved us on.
We spent the first night in Manuel, at a wonderful hotel recommended by Ken O'Malley and Wayne Dougherty and the second day rode through the countryside in beautiful sunshine to Vera Cruz where we spent Saturday night dinning on the old town square, drinking cervecas and listening to Latino music. This travel business is hard work