We arrive in Batopilas in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve after two and half days of walking and set about finding ourselves a cheap hotel. The originally named Hotel Batopilas boasts a view over the river but it’s not the classiest accommodation I’ve ever stayed in.
The rat trap in the corner is a nice touch.
Rough and ready.
Mirror on the wall.
Once we are settled in to our less than salubrious quarters, we head out to find something to eat. We find that all the restaurants are closed early for the festivities and the only food available are dubious burritos and hamburgers sold on the street.
Eventually we head to the village square to check out the New Year’s celebration. It’s a strange scene, somehow reminiscent of some demented dream of a diabolic music box.
Cowboys in Batopilas dancing the New Year in...
...while other drink it in...
...to the steady beat of the tuba.
As the night wears on more and more drunken cowboys lurch about and the atmosphere degenerates.* It all seems a bit surreal after three days walking in the wilderness. Sometime just before 12 o’clock the band stops so that everybody can attend an inebriated midnight mass and we retire to our sleazy hotel.
*Some time later, we heard that a woman was murdered on New Year’s Eve in Batopilas.
{ 2 } Comments
Lovely pictures Anna, I enjoyed them very much. It’s always nice to see blogs from people you know.
Karin
Great pictures again, Anna! And I am glad seeing you with a companion on the mountain tops, although I am sure that you could make it by yourself, too:-) As everything! BTW – a nice picture of you in the water. I was missing the same one of Jeff;-)
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