Crazy in Monterrey

A few friends, plus my Mother, were a little worried about our Mexico crossing after our experience at Detroit's Ambassador Bridge. They needn't have worried.

If ever you find yourself headed for Laredo, try to make it a Sunday around noon, and stick to the Columbia International crossing a few kilometers west of Laredo. It's accessible via Hwy 255, an unmanned toll road which is not marked on some printed maps. But it's right there, big as life, just ask the google. We were the only ones on the road, a good foreshadowing of being the only customers when we got to the border. The whole process took about 40 minutes including figuring-out time and idle chit-chat, filling of forms and payment of fees. For us, there was no big red-green button. I simply showed the Customs agent a list of what was in the car, opened the trunk and he moved us on. Have I mentioned how full the car is? Everyone was very nice, respectful and business-like. Welcome to Mexico.

Getting the cell phone switched over to the Mexican carrier took until we reached the hotel. And speaking of Monterrey, oh my goodness, it is impossible not to get lost. Even a GPS has trouble keeping up with the lane changes and turns at the breakneck speed of local traffic. And woe be the confused tourist who should hesitate. Ontario license plates, if noticed, may buy you a fraction of forgiveness, then it's flank speed full ahead.

While having dinner in a restaurant (arrived at by driving again in spite of my better judgment), there was a deluge of rain. Wind and spectacular lightning brought down large trees across roadways, flooded streets, knocked out power in places, and still the crazy Mexicans were driving as fast as they possibly could. It's a good thing Monterrey is a temperance town. On Sundays -- that being today -- stores and hotels cut off alcohol sales at 6:00 p.m. I'm not sure why, maybe it's a strategy to ensure people show up for work on Monday. It's sure not slowing any of them down.