September 17th Saltillo to Torreon
I must admit though the last two days were boring I think I needed them, I was feeling a little negative and everything seemed an effort. Packing up and getting back on my bike lifted the spirits - the good breakfast also helped. The busyness of the place yesterday can be put down to it being a public holiday. It is in celebration of their independence from Spain which began in a small town called Dolores on this day in 1810. The cry of Dolores as it is known was the start of the war of independence and since 1825 celebrated as Independence day. This was some 27 years after their Noisy Northern Neighbours achieved their independence from Great Britain.
Looking at my bike, it looked filthy, splattered with the thousands of butterflies that inhabit this area, in fact riding to Saltillo there were times when it was like going through a hailstorm of butterflies. Sad our vehicles were killing so many.
The road out of Saltillo got more interesting as I moved through the suburbs, which were very poor, and out into the countryside. For the first time it felt like the Mexico I'd imagined, I believe this was because I was not on the Motorway. so that when I came to a split in the road that offered me the choice of Torreon Libre or Torreon Cuota I chose the free. SS didn't like my change of mind (it is not only a women's prerogative I shouted at her) and she showed her disgust by adding 50 miles to my journey distance. I didn't care as this road was great, quiet and passed through little settlements with donkeys grazing and children waving at me as I passed by.

The long unwinding road!

Unfortunately, the added 50 miles meant unless there were petrol stations on this desolate road then it would be touch and go on the fuel front. As with the previous days I reduced my mph to around 50 and watched my  average consumption per mile decrease. This however is  a great speed at which to travel, no stress and time to observe one's surroundings, mind my ears burn as larger vehicles overtake me and I'm sure they're shouting 'bloody tourist!' A Harley passes me and their is no acknowledgement from the rider and his partner. A few minutes later I am also passed by a fully geared up BMW GS1200 with a smiling Mexican waving to me.

I pass through a few settlements over the next twenty miles but they are more like shanty towns with mud brick walls and rusty corrugated tin roofs - they are all trying to make a living from the road, with makeshift cafes which would make Greasy Joe's seem 5 star. They also offer Melons and local produce. The landscape is scrub and how these people make a living is beyond comprehension as nothing seems to be growing that I can see. The main mode of transport seems to be ancient beat up pick ups, horses and donkeys descending order of affluence one can assume.

Eventually with 50 miles to go my anxiety is relieved as I enter Parras a small settlement with a proper garage and restaurant. This time I fill up my tank and put a gallon in my newly acquired petrol canister, this will now be my comfort blanket over the coming days. As I drive over to the restaurant/shop to buy a drink I notice Señor Smiley man with his BMW. He smiles again and looks very different to how I imagined he'd look with his helmet off. He reminds me of a friend from Dobwalls -let's see who can guess who I am thinking of?

Jesus Garcia wanted a selfie with me

It turned out that Jesus was my saviour, when mentioning my tyre situation he immediately got out his iPhone and phoned a supplier in Mexico City, he then handed me the phone after first checking that the guy spoke English. Omar spoke good English and told me he had the tyres I needed and could fedex them to me wherever I wanted to. It turns out he is in Mexico City, so will probably visit Omar on my southward trip out of Mexico if I can't find another supplier in Guadalajara. Guadalajara would be better as I don't really fancy negotiating the traffic of Mexico City - Did you know that Mexico City is one of the largest cities in the world, I believe it dwarfs London.

The last 50 miles went quickly and before long I was negotiating the busy traffic of this medium sized town. I eventually found the hotel and with relief entered the air-conditioned building. Once all my stuff was taken off the bike I checked my emails and I had one from a garage in Guadalajara saying they had the tyres I need but the price was around £320 !! I will wait to see what price Omar gives me before deciding - nice to have  a choice. With these new tyres fitted I should be able to make Buenos Aires without a further change. I have done 5 thousand on these tyres and they probably have about 2000 miles left in them. So 7,000 miles should see me through to Argentina where I suspect if i need new tyres they will be available - that's if I can find an Argentinian Jesus. This may also be dependent on whether GB beats Argentina in the Davies Cup!!!