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122  AN EXILE OF THE MIND        A BOXCAR TO PALENQUE                          123
































 Chichén Itzá with the observatory on the right.  The lid of Lord Pacal’s sarcophagus, Palenque.


 musical genre of the mariachis.  Salvador had a special technique for   Uxmal, Chichén Itzá and Palenque.  bailed  out  of  the  boxcar at  a run
 Ricardo, noticing my visits were  parking in a space smaller than his   The temple doorway at Chichén Itzá  within  a 15-kilometre  walk of  the
 becoming  less  frequent  at  the  res-  car.  He  would nudge  the  front  car   seemed a good place to camp in the  isolated site.
 taurant,  usually  because  I  couldn’t  forward and then push rearwards   pouring rain. We used our tent for   Palenque emerged from a greenery
 afford  it,  commissioned  a  mural  the car at the back, doing this several   the first time to discover next morn-  of lush tropical jungle. A serene
 on the wall in  exchange for meals  times until he created a space in the   ing that the rock used to belt tent  mystical air was discernible amidst the
 and beer. He wanted a brunette, a  street to fit in.   pegs  into  the  flinty   ruins as we clambered
 blonde and a redhead scantily clad   At that time I was struck down by a   soil was a carved face   over the many carved
 in a beach  scene.  Jane Lawrence  mystery illness for several days until   of a Mayan god.   stones  scattered  about,
 was one of the beach girls.  a painful penicillin jab, inexpertly   The clickity-clack of   undisturbed due to the
 Russell’s shipmates from  New  aimed by  Salvador to my  rear,   a train slowed to walk-  scarcity of roads.
 Zealand came to visit with nine of us  accelerated my recovery. Mainly for   ing pace days later as   In another two years,
 squeezing into  Salvador’s car for a  fear of getting another jab.   we slung our packs through the open  tourists by the busloads would descend
 week of late nights and drinking. And   Using our  customary  mode of   door of a boxcar. And with a skip we  on this tranquil site, clamouring for
 for  a  little  culture,  a  cramped  visit  transport, the trusty thumb, Russell   jumped in after them.   plastic Palenques from roadside stalls.
 to the ancient ruins of Teotihuacán,  and I set off for the Yucatan to vis-  The  train rumbled through the  Eric Von Daniken, in his controversial
 50 kilometres northeast of the city.  it  the  magnificent  Mayan  ruins  of   deep jungle of Lacandon where we  Chariots  of  the  Gods, would later
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