Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
A young man sat across the aisle from me on this last leg. His shoulders filled out a black
T-shirt that had a cartoon character figure on the front. Printed in red under the cartoon was
the word “Ramcid,” an American punk-rock band. We spoke and he introduced himself,
Victor Tornero, a welterweight boxer on his way to his sister's wedding in Guanajuato.
Victor was a friendly guy with a ready smile. He trained in Phoenix and had had twelve
amateur and three professional fights, won them all, most by knockouts. He surged with
joy when he spoke about knocking out an opponent.
He reminded me of Oscar de la Hoya, such a handsome, unmarked face. When we stopped,
I asked if I could take his picture in front of the bus to prove, when he's famous, that we
bused through Sonora Mexico together. Victor stood against the bus and clutched his fists
to his chest, showing off the hammers that could strike an opponent and send him into un-
consciousness.
It was dark when the bus pulled into Santa Ana. I looked for a hotel. Victor continued on
his way. He'd be traveling all night.
I checked into the Hotel Posada, catty-corner from the terminal, and took a walk to shake
off the ride. An Internet café was open, but I ate supper first, and while I was eating, the
cybercafé closed.
I walked down the long main street. Major businesses were truck stops and motels. At a
rival's hotel, with a large well-lit lobby, I saw a courtesy computer that provided email ac-
cess for guests. I asked the security guard's permission to use it. He said I was welcome to
check my email.
It was a long day on the bus, but because I had cut the trip into three slices, it digested
well.
The hotel room was modest but clean, neat and attractive. There was a bathroom shelf for
toiletries and a non-sagging mattress; nothing bends when it's on a cement slab. It was
quiet and isolated, reached by a labyrinth of hallways. There was air conditioning and a
reading lamp. But I never thought about the east-facing room and the thin curtain until the
glare from the rising sun awakened me. From 5 to 6 a.m. I slept with the pillow over my
head.
Tomorrow I'd reach Hermosillo, a major city, and the last stop before heading to the Cop-
per Canyon, if I can get there on the bus.
