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Mobilising two children and a puppy for an hour and half car journey and day trip is no mean feat. Once all the bags, packed with hot and cold weather clothing, colouring books, a picnic prepared by Luis, the puppy's box and several rolls of kitchen roll as she gets car sick, were loaded into the car, along with three adults, two children and a dog, we were ready to go. Thankfully the car started straight away and we were off.
Two hours later, three puppy vomits (due to the invaluable experience of witnessing my office dog, Reggie, regurgitating various items, I was able to predict when, so poor little lucero neatly deposited on sheets of kitchen roll which lucky Luis then disposed of at the road side), several games of eye spy, spot the car coloured... (insert entire spectrum) and one very full bladder (mine) we arrived into a practically empty, dusty carpark.
Just before we turned into the site we over took a cowboy pelting along at full gallop on his horse, along the tarmac road. Luis later, on a quest for tortillas, met him, he turned out to be pissed as a fart and under the impression the authorities were after him. Given we were in the middle of nowhere, we were the only car behind him and no horse can outrun an army jeep it may of been the Miscal talking, however most impressive riding whilst under the influence (is that illegal in the uk or is that just riding a bike?)
We picnicked under the afternoon sun in the carpark surrounded by cacti, and the occasional hoot of unseen owl in the tree shading the car. Our bellies full of salty cheese from the market, avocado and tortillas, we headed to the main attraction.
In front of us, a maze of ruins steadily climbed up the hill, consisting of hundreds of interlinking alleyways, streets and avenues, reduced to waist height, with houses and residential courtyards leading off them.This city dates back an amazing 1,000 years and was 12 square km in its hay day. Only 1% of the city has been uncovered so far and is a relatively new site with archaeological work only starting in 1992. Because of this is it is virtually unknown to tourists although with the construction of a museum underway it hopes to be on the tourist map, and so it should. According to the guide plaques this site is unique in two ways. All the structures were built using no mortar, only the weight and shape of the stones holding them together, like the dry stone dyking technique used in farm walls in the UK. The second is the quantity of ball courts uncovered in this city, 24 in total. Gemma told me that these ball courts we used for highly religious games of a kind of football come basketball although you couldn't use your hands or feet but arms, knees, elbows and thighs. A stone hoop (sadly none survive at Cantona) was at each end and the players had to get the ball through the hoop. It was one of the highest honours to be chosen to play but the stakes were high with the losing team being sacrificed, however if you scored impressively you would also be sacrificed (imagine if FIFA introduced that in premier league, would rid us of a few arrogant, over paid players, wonder if the wags were in included).
We walked around this amazing place virtually alone, the kids and Lucero bounding on ahead. At the stop of the hill where the ball courts were, were several temple pyramids (but with a flat plateau at the top) unlike the egyptian ones, they are solid with no internal cavity. As we reached the top of the highest one the afternoon sun was beginning to sink. From the top the views over the vast plain was magnificent. A sea of cacti surrounded us and in the distance volcanic mountains and hills jutted out of petticoats of cloud. As we were in the desert the temperature had began to fall sharply. Layers on and we watched as the clouds rolled dramatically over the distant mountains, shimmering silver in the dying sunlight.
It was now rather chilly and the kids were cold and tired and requiring piggy backs back down the hill. With Cleo on my back and a now very grubby, grey Lucero still happily bounding along beside us we headed back down to the car. We were the last to leave and the poor car park attendant had hung around to guard the car for us. We quickly paid him and he hurried off, maybe to a warm women and a milky hot chocolate (but probably to the local bar for Miscal and a drunken horse ride home).
The car ride home was a less eventful affair with the puppy utterly exhausted, she fell asleep for the whole journey as did Cleo. Aida, sat on my lap, sporadically sang to herself and waved her hand around in a random manor but eventually fell asleep 20mins from home.
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