Yohualichan, La Cascada
	The road to Yohualichan ran 8km through the mountains... the orange earth was wet, large brownish puddles broke the trail... walls of dark vegetation... bannana trees with gruesome flowers, greenish fruit... everything teeming... thick nets of spider silk draping down... vines... leaves and trunks and stalks packed densely... impassable... something lurking. Sometimes the walls would break... sublime vistas would open up... verdant and undulating valleys... darkened peaks... the spires of Cuetzalan in the distance... town like a monument. The road was lacking a pavement and often traffic would race past at a pace... trucks, cattles cars loaded with people... we'd hear them coming and get to the side. The road to Yohualichan took us through tiny villages... past crumbling concrete abodes... flocks of turkeys, chickens... groups of militant dogs. We'd greet the campesinos as we met them... men hauling a basket or package... clad in white shirt and trousers of cotton... a straw hat... flimsy sandles... machete to waist. The road to Yohualichan wound through the mountains then descended suddenly... 2km on a cobblestone track... we made it into town. 'The place of night' was located near the plaza, right behind a solid grey church... a small archeological site of Totonac origin. The former city was well located... the ancient ruins had fine views of the valley. It comprised in all; four pyramids, a palace foundation, a ball court. The structures had two salient features... firstly, several square niches extending in a row accross each face. Secondly, half sunk bases which caused the steps and walls to distort into convoluted waves... rising here and sagging there... the brickwork undulated madly. The site was entirely empty of people except ourselves and the caretaker... the grass in the plaza was thick and unbroken... dragonflies hovered around in a swarm. We sat down on the grey steps of a pyramid... rested... ate our bread... observed the desolation. The ancient totonac plaza had strange acoustics... there was a buzzing all around us... something like bees. LA CASCADA We took a road 2km to the town of San Andres. From there we procured a child to take us to the waterfall. The distance was not especially great, the terrain not particularly rough... what the path had... a sheer drop to the edge... cobblestones of steep inclines, then no cobblestones... mud, rocks, roots... the narrow trail descended into tropical valley... into thicker air... the noise of crashing water... we reached the river at the bottom... followed the course a little way... arrived at La Cascada. The shore was strewn with rounded pebbles and several large boulders. The water broke through high walls of stone... fell with noise and volume into a greenish pool... everything hung with vines... swaythed in moss. A second smaller torrent fed the pool from the side... it frothed a vicious white... flanked by smooth, flat, slippery rock. The surface of the water continually flickered with movement and sunshine... exuded vapour... rushed with icy freshness...
		HOME