Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
ney bought the skull, considered it a prize, took it home and placed it on bookshelf in his
office and for many years showed it to friends and clients.
Thirty years later, the now older man, wishing to retrace an adventure of his youth, re-
turned to Mexico and Parral. As he visited the plaza a man hissed, “Gringo,” called him
over to a quiet, secluded spot and showed him a bag. “Would you like to buy Pancho
Villa's head?” He carefully opened the bag and showed the gringo a small skull.
The gringo, agitated and somewhat miffed, said, “I own Pancho Villa's head. I bought it
right here thirty years ago. What you're trying to sell is a fake, besides look how small it
is.”
The Mexican said, “I don't doubt you, but this no fake. It
is
Pancho Villa's head! It's small
because it's his skull when he was a child!”
I was refreshed, but anxious to arrive in Zacatecas. I told friends and family that I thought
I'd cover the Tijuana-Zacatecas route in ten days. Here I was on day thirteen and still
hadn't reached Zacatecas.
At Hotel Adriana I asked the desk clerk to check the bus schedules for me. It was eight
hours on my AAA map, but that's by driving a car. I was hoping to make it in nine hours
by bus.
I was surprised by an inconvenient schedule. The direct Parral-Zacatecas bus left daily at
2 p.m. I would have a long morning before I left and then a late arrival. Parral-Durango-
Zacatecas, my original route, gave me a choice of 5, 6, or 7 a.m. departures. It was a five-
hour trip to Durango, and then I'd have to make a connection for Zacatecas.
I let the sun wake me up and arrived at the bus terminal at 6:30 a.m. I was the first to
buy a ticket and requested the front passenger window seat. I took the Transportes Chi-
huahuense, First Class, but with six short stops and a couple of roadside flag downs.
We headed south and passed the turnoff to Pancho Villa's hacienda at Canutillo, now a
national museum. The strangest ruin in Canutillo is a tall, smooth granite wall now used
as part of a corral. It's said that the corral was once a jai ali court where Pancho smacked
balls against the granite wall.
My seatmate was Sister Lourdes, who was dressed in her white and brown habit. She said
she was a cloistered nun, dedicated to a contemplative life at Nuestra Señora de la Soledad
