14 July 2011

The Island


I find myself returning often now, returning to books that I have already read, returning to places that I have already been. There is an appeal for me about a return. There is always something new to be found upon returning to anything except people and the United States of America. So it was that last Sunday I returned to the island of Janitzio in Lake Pátzcuaro.


Right click on any photograph that interests you in order to open a larger version in a separate tab.






A commercial photograph of the island of Janitzio is in the foreground with the islands of Tecuena, little Yunuen, Jaracuaro, and Pacanda in the distance. A right click on this one will give you a particularly large resolution version.





This is Janitzio as it looked to me out the back of the boat when I last left it on 4 November 2009.
 
Janitzio is an island that begs to be photographed and untold thousands have done just that. However, we had some unusual weather conditions on our visit there Sunday, Michel, Ginette, La Mexicana and I. Sane people are normally not out on the lake in such weather taking photographs.













This is Michel's shot of the island with different settings on the approach used entirely without his permission. Consider it copyrighted until we learn differently.


Views from the top.

















This is the island of Tecuena with the island of Pacanda in the background.




















The following snapshots were taken on 4 November 2009.
 
 



The island is dominated by a statue of don José María Morelos, another martyred hero of the war for independence from Spain.


















 

From the docks one climbs up to the summit on a long, winding staircase lined with shops and restaurants. The norteamericano in the red tee in the bottom snapshot is my young friend, Frank, whom I have since lost to the dark underbelly of Mexico. 




Frank on the descent in the late afternoon of 4 November 2009.





In addition to the shops that sell the usual tourist crap along that long, long stairway to the top, there are also many charming little restaurants. Isn't that what we always call them? Charming little restaurants? Charming until they poison the shit out of you.

To be honest, though, I have played Russian Roulette with little Mexican restaurants ever since I arrived here with excellent results. You must squeeze fresh lime juice on everything, particularly the fish. You must never buy something to eat from a road-side or street-side stand in hot weather. You do not have to worry about the potato salad. There is no potato salad. With those simple rules in mind, you are good to go.





From the shore on the other side of the lake.

















The view out the back this time.

2 comments:

Four Dinners said...

The pics suck you in old bean. That place is beautiful. Clearly.

I return to years gone in my thoughts many times.

Regrets I've had a few...oh shut up Dinners.

Seriously. If I could be Doctor Who I would go back and sort things I screwed up.

Perhaps 'going back' to places is more realistic.

You can regain the love of a 'place'.

Perhaps the place can regain it's love for you too....

I'm getting far too philosophical here.

Entirely you're fault.

Thank you old bean

Thank you.

4D

Candy Minx said...

I like returning too...there is a feeling of comparison or something...or like I really know something.

I had the strangest feelings when I took Stagg to Victoiria where I had spent a lot of transformative phases in my life and came of age. I had been there many times, but this time really felt like a return of sorts...like I owned it or something, liek I knew it...familair, sublime, luxurious, dreamy and real....