There's no history or ruins in this post, I have prepared an entry on some of the animals that we came across that are peculiar to Mexico; the first few photos are a bit shoddy but they get better. I'll begin with the weirdest animal....
Exactly when this breed of dog was established is unclear but it was certainly present at the time of the conquest in the early 16th century. In the Aztec language it was known as Xoloitzcuintle (pronounced zcltltzzzz), today shortened to Xolo. It is thought that they were bred as companion dogs and bed warmers. Yes, that's right, bed warmers; they're incredibly warm to the touch, as I can confirm. Unfortunately, it turns out that they also taste quite good and so they were sometimes bred for food; I don't know if this still goes on. The Aztecs believed that they knew the way to the Land of the Dead and so they were routinely sacrificed upon the deaths of their owners. I took this picture through a chain link fence just as the dogs were being rubbed down with some sort of sun block to stop them burning. It would seem that hot climates consistently and independently result in these sorts of hairless dogs; Africa produced the Egyptian hairless and African Sand dog, Asia the Ceylon hairless and Thai hairless (word of warning, don't be lazy and just Google Thai hairless). Dogs are my favourite animals on Earth, I'm slightly obsessed with them but even I think these creatures are uglier than, well, a bulldog chewing a piss soaked nettle; they're certainly no competition for my favourite animal on the whole planet. Nevertheless, ladies and gentlemen, I give you... The Mexican hairless!! Try not to stare.
Now to something more exotic. In my post on Tulum you may remember that I mentioned there were lots of lizards lollygagging about the place. They were everywhere, hundreds of them, which was fine by me as I'm also quite keen on reptiles. I don't know exactly what they are but I think I narrowed it down to Ctenosaura similis, or Black Iguana, though I could easily be wrong it's certainly somewhere in that genus. If I'm right then it happens to be the fastest running lizard on Earth with a top speed of slightly over 20mph, which is none too shabby. My photo is a poor one, it's a bit out of focus but it should give you an idea of what they look like. These orgy-based ones were about 18-24 inches long, and there were some plenty bigger than that.
Right, time to break out something really exciting, monkeys. I had never seen monkeys in the wild before so I was very pleased to hear that much of the southern jungle of Mexico reverberates with the bellowing of the local troops. The first time we heard them up close it was actually almost scary; it was unbelievable that such a loud noise could be produced by, what we had been told, is not a large animal. But even with them being so loud we could tell that they were still a fair distance off; if one of them got itself excited right next to you it must be ear shattering. It was in Bonampak that we came across them having already visited Yaxchilan; you'll hear about these places in a future post.
Sue was pretty tuckered out and had remained near the base of the pyramid whilst I conducted my usual explorations to the summit, quietly humming the Indiana Jones theme tune as I went. As I was on my way down I saw a woman taking what must have been a particularly boring close up photo of a rock, but then I realised she was aiming for something far past the rock; a lizard, I assumed, or one of the massive bloody spiders that I had found nearer the top. Nothing of interest there. As I descended, though, I realised that she was a bit too excited to warrant such a photo, in fact she was so excited that she was sort of chimping around in agitation and even making monkey-type noises.
As it dawned on me that she had spotted some monkeys I went through a veritable roller coaster of emotions. First, it was amusement that this woman thought she was somehow going to talk the monkeys down, like a suicidal banker that's just lost billions, using nothing more than her best ooh ooh ooh and that strange index-finger-rubbing-your-thumb-pad-motion that everyone thinks animals love so much despite all evidence to the contrary. Next I felt the kind of giddy joy that always puts me in mind of early childhood; it's the kind of feeling you just don't get often enough as an adult, probably because you're not quite as excited by your favourite cartoon unexpectedly coming on as you used to be. I was about to see real life, wild monkeys; this made me happy. But, no, what's this? What black monster was now surging from the depths to claw at my heart and tear my new found happiness ever down into the abyss? My dream was falling apart, I was as a man broken; shattered on the rocks of despair as only one in my horrific position could ever understand, if they dare even try to do so. Yes, no doubt you already understand the tragedy of my situation: so as not to overexert myself I had left my camera bag at the bottom of the pyramid and I only had a wide angle lens to hand which would be useless to capture a picture of said simians. No, don't try to comprehend my plight, I wouldn't want to be held responsible for the all to dismal consequences.
And so I decided I'd just sit down and watch them instead. It was at this point, just as I was at my lowest ebb, that I saw a beacon of light, a star of purest brilliance. I squinted into the aura, shielding my eyes against it's dazzling radiance but slowly I began to make out an image burning it's way into my retina; the image was Sue-shaped and, yes, YES, it appeared to be carrying my camera bag. Closer inspection revealed it to be Sue! And she was carrying my camera bag! Could it be? My angel, my saviour; in one moment I was transported from the very depths of Tartarus to an apogee of ecstasy. The effect was only slightly ruined by her swearing and cursing about having to carry my fucking camera bag up the fucking pyramid as she huffed and puffed her way towards me.
Wow, what a story, eh? What drama! I quickly changed lenses and did what I could with the trees being in the way, the low light, the distance and the little buggers not sitting still. I was very pleased to get what I did out of it. Now as you can see, these monkeys are to be found in Mexico, they are black and they howl. Any idea what they're called? No? You'll kick yourself. Ladles and jellyspoons, I give you the Mexican Black Howler monkey:
If you think you can handle any more then I have one last animal for you, and I was far more excited about snapping this one then I was those stupid monkeys I can tell you. When we were in the town of Oaxaca we stayed in a small hostel that was dominated by a series of small, interlinked courtyards that were so packed full of plants and flowers that it was actually difficult to work your way through them. One afternoon, avoiding the hottest part of the day, we sat in the courtyard outside our room reading. As we relaxed my attention was arrested by a flash of blue-green iridescence that I couldn't identify. I stood up and tried to follow it; one thing was for sure, it was almost supernaturally quick. I didn't tell Sue what I was doing as I initially thought it was a monstrous big insect of some kind and she would be none too impressed by this. Eventually, though, I caught another glimpse and this time I was able to identify the visitor. I must have only saw it for a fraction of a second but that was long enough to pick out the body of a hummingbird hovering perfectly still next to a nearby purple bloom, it's wings moving so fast that they had become completely invisible.
I ran for my camera.
I was too late. By the time I had come back it had disappeared. No matter, though; if it had come once it would come again and this time I would be ready. So I sat back down, picked up my book and, with my camera in my lap, bided my time. From this point on, however, I was distracted. I hadn't been aware that hummingbirds were on the cards and I was very excited to have this opportunity. I lay in wait. For a long time. For a really, really long time. We were in Oaxaca for a few days, it was the first time in our trip that we had really worked in some time to chill out having covered well over 1,000 miles in the first 6 days or so, so I wasn't worried, I had time to get the shot I wanted. The next day I came close. In flew the little hummingbird, no larger than the smallest of birds you might find back in Britain with a wingspan of only 10cm. I have subsequently identified it as the broad billed hummingbird, Cynanthus latirostris, which is quite common in those parts and on average weighs something like 3-4 grams. Like most hummingbirds, each day it must consume about one and a half times it's own bodyweight in nectar. As it hovered perfectly in place near virtually the same flower I had seen it on before I sprung into action but before I could focus it had flashed away again in a sparkle of green.
Over the rest of my time in Oaxaca I slowly descended into madness, I completely failed to get any photos of the hummingbird. I got lots of photos of flowers and leaves and blurry green blobs but nothing that I could claim was an actual photograph of this elusive creature. I was not pleased. I was beginning to think that I was going to have to file it in the same place as Kingfishers in a drawer marked "Cool birds (but not really cool because everyone knows birds are rubbish) that are so rare you only ever get to see a small glimpse once per decade"; as opposed to the drawer marked "Cool birds (but not really cool because everyone knows birds are rubbish) that are big, common and stupid so you see them loads". This drawer has things like peacocks and ostriches in it. There's only one other bird drawer and it's marked "Genuinely cool birds" and has things like eagles and owls in it. Yes, I have quite an elaborate filing system at home.
I knew that our next, and final, port of call was Mexico City and I was never going to get a good hummingbird picture there. Or was I? I left Oaxaca with nothing having resigned myself to failure on this particular point but I was due some good fortune. On our very last day in Mexico we had a flight late in the day which meant we had most of the day to spare. We had fun going around the Museo Templo Mayor which was somewhere I was really excited to see as it was on the site of the main square of the original Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, a place I had been desperate to visit since my mid teens (more in a later post). With that done we decided to seek out a roof top terrace overlooking the zocalo, the modern day main square of the city, have a few drinks and observe the city go by. We had a decent view of much of the city so I snuck off to take a few snaps but upon my return Sue said that she had seen a hummingbird. Initially I thought she was winding me up, a cruel and sick joke, but I waited and she was absolutely right. The roof terrace was flanked by dozens of flower pots and hanging baskets and the hummingbird seemed perfectly happy buzzing from one to the next. I couldn't believe my luck. I was within 10 feet of a hummingbird that wasn't in a hurry to bugger off. I put my fastest lens on the camera so that I could freeze the action as best as possible and make the background nicely blurred and snapped away. I managed to get quite a few decent pictures my favourite of which I've put below. These were literally the last photos I took in Mexico and I couldn't have hoped for better way to end my time there. The third picture shows the wider context of the environment we were in; this was in the centre of one of the largest cities on Earth but the bird appeared more than happy. And so was I.
And, finally, here's a manky looking chicken.....
Exactly when this breed of dog was established is unclear but it was certainly present at the time of the conquest in the early 16th century. In the Aztec language it was known as Xoloitzcuintle (pronounced zcltltzzzz), today shortened to Xolo. It is thought that they were bred as companion dogs and bed warmers. Yes, that's right, bed warmers; they're incredibly warm to the touch, as I can confirm. Unfortunately, it turns out that they also taste quite good and so they were sometimes bred for food; I don't know if this still goes on. The Aztecs believed that they knew the way to the Land of the Dead and so they were routinely sacrificed upon the deaths of their owners. I took this picture through a chain link fence just as the dogs were being rubbed down with some sort of sun block to stop them burning. It would seem that hot climates consistently and independently result in these sorts of hairless dogs; Africa produced the Egyptian hairless and African Sand dog, Asia the Ceylon hairless and Thai hairless (word of warning, don't be lazy and just Google Thai hairless). Dogs are my favourite animals on Earth, I'm slightly obsessed with them but even I think these creatures are uglier than, well, a bulldog chewing a piss soaked nettle; they're certainly no competition for my favourite animal on the whole planet. Nevertheless, ladies and gentlemen, I give you... The Mexican hairless!! Try not to stare.
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| Dog ugly |
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| Getting some sun screen applied. They missed a bit. |
Now to something more exotic. In my post on Tulum you may remember that I mentioned there were lots of lizards lollygagging about the place. They were everywhere, hundreds of them, which was fine by me as I'm also quite keen on reptiles. I don't know exactly what they are but I think I narrowed it down to Ctenosaura similis, or Black Iguana, though I could easily be wrong it's certainly somewhere in that genus. If I'm right then it happens to be the fastest running lizard on Earth with a top speed of slightly over 20mph, which is none too shabby. My photo is a poor one, it's a bit out of focus but it should give you an idea of what they look like. These orgy-based ones were about 18-24 inches long, and there were some plenty bigger than that.
 |
| Lizard orgy |
Sue was pretty tuckered out and had remained near the base of the pyramid whilst I conducted my usual explorations to the summit, quietly humming the Indiana Jones theme tune as I went. As I was on my way down I saw a woman taking what must have been a particularly boring close up photo of a rock, but then I realised she was aiming for something far past the rock; a lizard, I assumed, or one of the massive bloody spiders that I had found nearer the top. Nothing of interest there. As I descended, though, I realised that she was a bit too excited to warrant such a photo, in fact she was so excited that she was sort of chimping around in agitation and even making monkey-type noises.
As it dawned on me that she had spotted some monkeys I went through a veritable roller coaster of emotions. First, it was amusement that this woman thought she was somehow going to talk the monkeys down, like a suicidal banker that's just lost billions, using nothing more than her best ooh ooh ooh and that strange index-finger-rubbing-your-thumb-pad-motion that everyone thinks animals love so much despite all evidence to the contrary. Next I felt the kind of giddy joy that always puts me in mind of early childhood; it's the kind of feeling you just don't get often enough as an adult, probably because you're not quite as excited by your favourite cartoon unexpectedly coming on as you used to be. I was about to see real life, wild monkeys; this made me happy. But, no, what's this? What black monster was now surging from the depths to claw at my heart and tear my new found happiness ever down into the abyss? My dream was falling apart, I was as a man broken; shattered on the rocks of despair as only one in my horrific position could ever understand, if they dare even try to do so. Yes, no doubt you already understand the tragedy of my situation: so as not to overexert myself I had left my camera bag at the bottom of the pyramid and I only had a wide angle lens to hand which would be useless to capture a picture of said simians. No, don't try to comprehend my plight, I wouldn't want to be held responsible for the all to dismal consequences.
And so I decided I'd just sit down and watch them instead. It was at this point, just as I was at my lowest ebb, that I saw a beacon of light, a star of purest brilliance. I squinted into the aura, shielding my eyes against it's dazzling radiance but slowly I began to make out an image burning it's way into my retina; the image was Sue-shaped and, yes, YES, it appeared to be carrying my camera bag. Closer inspection revealed it to be Sue! And she was carrying my camera bag! Could it be? My angel, my saviour; in one moment I was transported from the very depths of Tartarus to an apogee of ecstasy. The effect was only slightly ruined by her swearing and cursing about having to carry my fucking camera bag up the fucking pyramid as she huffed and puffed her way towards me.
Wow, what a story, eh? What drama! I quickly changed lenses and did what I could with the trees being in the way, the low light, the distance and the little buggers not sitting still. I was very pleased to get what I did out of it. Now as you can see, these monkeys are to be found in Mexico, they are black and they howl. Any idea what they're called? No? You'll kick yourself. Ladles and jellyspoons, I give you the Mexican Black Howler monkey:
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| I love the curling of the prehensile tail in this picture |
If you think you can handle any more then I have one last animal for you, and I was far more excited about snapping this one then I was those stupid monkeys I can tell you. When we were in the town of Oaxaca we stayed in a small hostel that was dominated by a series of small, interlinked courtyards that were so packed full of plants and flowers that it was actually difficult to work your way through them. One afternoon, avoiding the hottest part of the day, we sat in the courtyard outside our room reading. As we relaxed my attention was arrested by a flash of blue-green iridescence that I couldn't identify. I stood up and tried to follow it; one thing was for sure, it was almost supernaturally quick. I didn't tell Sue what I was doing as I initially thought it was a monstrous big insect of some kind and she would be none too impressed by this. Eventually, though, I caught another glimpse and this time I was able to identify the visitor. I must have only saw it for a fraction of a second but that was long enough to pick out the body of a hummingbird hovering perfectly still next to a nearby purple bloom, it's wings moving so fast that they had become completely invisible.
I ran for my camera.
I was too late. By the time I had come back it had disappeared. No matter, though; if it had come once it would come again and this time I would be ready. So I sat back down, picked up my book and, with my camera in my lap, bided my time. From this point on, however, I was distracted. I hadn't been aware that hummingbirds were on the cards and I was very excited to have this opportunity. I lay in wait. For a long time. For a really, really long time. We were in Oaxaca for a few days, it was the first time in our trip that we had really worked in some time to chill out having covered well over 1,000 miles in the first 6 days or so, so I wasn't worried, I had time to get the shot I wanted. The next day I came close. In flew the little hummingbird, no larger than the smallest of birds you might find back in Britain with a wingspan of only 10cm. I have subsequently identified it as the broad billed hummingbird, Cynanthus latirostris, which is quite common in those parts and on average weighs something like 3-4 grams. Like most hummingbirds, each day it must consume about one and a half times it's own bodyweight in nectar. As it hovered perfectly in place near virtually the same flower I had seen it on before I sprung into action but before I could focus it had flashed away again in a sparkle of green.
Over the rest of my time in Oaxaca I slowly descended into madness, I completely failed to get any photos of the hummingbird. I got lots of photos of flowers and leaves and blurry green blobs but nothing that I could claim was an actual photograph of this elusive creature. I was not pleased. I was beginning to think that I was going to have to file it in the same place as Kingfishers in a drawer marked "Cool birds (but not really cool because everyone knows birds are rubbish) that are so rare you only ever get to see a small glimpse once per decade"; as opposed to the drawer marked "Cool birds (but not really cool because everyone knows birds are rubbish) that are big, common and stupid so you see them loads". This drawer has things like peacocks and ostriches in it. There's only one other bird drawer and it's marked "Genuinely cool birds" and has things like eagles and owls in it. Yes, I have quite an elaborate filing system at home.
I knew that our next, and final, port of call was Mexico City and I was never going to get a good hummingbird picture there. Or was I? I left Oaxaca with nothing having resigned myself to failure on this particular point but I was due some good fortune. On our very last day in Mexico we had a flight late in the day which meant we had most of the day to spare. We had fun going around the Museo Templo Mayor which was somewhere I was really excited to see as it was on the site of the main square of the original Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, a place I had been desperate to visit since my mid teens (more in a later post). With that done we decided to seek out a roof top terrace overlooking the zocalo, the modern day main square of the city, have a few drinks and observe the city go by. We had a decent view of much of the city so I snuck off to take a few snaps but upon my return Sue said that she had seen a hummingbird. Initially I thought she was winding me up, a cruel and sick joke, but I waited and she was absolutely right. The roof terrace was flanked by dozens of flower pots and hanging baskets and the hummingbird seemed perfectly happy buzzing from one to the next. I couldn't believe my luck. I was within 10 feet of a hummingbird that wasn't in a hurry to bugger off. I put my fastest lens on the camera so that I could freeze the action as best as possible and make the background nicely blurred and snapped away. I managed to get quite a few decent pictures my favourite of which I've put below. These were literally the last photos I took in Mexico and I couldn't have hoped for better way to end my time there. The third picture shows the wider context of the environment we were in; this was in the centre of one of the largest cities on Earth but the bird appeared more than happy. And so was I.
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| One four thousandth of a second and the wing tips are still a blur |
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| Spot the humming bird |
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