Mega Pots

With the Volcan de Paricutin as a backrop, the tiny village of Cocucho, Michoacan teeters atop a steep ascent from any of the three directions you approach it. After your long climb the town doesn't seem like much until you zero in on the massive earthenware pots that grace the doorways of many roughly hewn Cocucho homes. Behind these homes are simple workshops, with no potter's wheels or elaborate kilns. The stunning pots that emerge from these workshops can stand up to 1.5 meters in height are shaped entirely by the hand and are fired individually in a wood pyre that is heaped on top of it. Originally used to store corn, valuables, and (it is rumoured) the dead, many of these pots are collectors items fetching up to US$1500 when purchased outside the village.

Diablitos de Ocumicho

Well above the strawberry fields of Tangancicuaro, but barely at the beginning of a lengthy climb to Cocucho lay the steep streets of Ocumicho also known as Purepecha inferno. The town specializes in fantastically painted hand-shaped clay devils in any situation imaginable. Our favourite is, of course, the cyclist devil, but they come in elaborate scenes from the last supper to the dentists office.

Rebozo Purepecha

High cheekbones, broad mouths, long slender noses, and tall slender frames wrapped up in cobalt blue and black striped shawls are the sure mark of a Purepecha woman. The shawl or rebozo is a critical multi-use tool. It carries everything from children to firewood, keeps you warm, hides missing eyes, and looks elegant.

Dance of the Little Old Men

One of the most hilarious folkloric dances of all Mexico comes from the Meseta Purepecha.

As Europeans settled in the Americas the original inhabitants, in this case the Purepecha, were astonished by the rate at which they aged. A popular mask was quickly developed representing the face of an old white man. This mask was adopted into a pre-conquest dance in which young athletic dancers pretend to be little old men intermittently taken over by the spirit of music and dance.

Milky Michoacan

I have no idea if the cow is a dairy cow or not, but the gorgeous fade from brown to black mesmerized me enough to stop my bike. Can a cow be majestic?

The state of Michoacan loves its milk and it is possible to still find milk delivered all natural, unhomogenized, unpasturized to people's doors. One day, while out wandering around Quiroga, I stumbled across two gentlemen on horseback with their morning milk that they were taking in to town. I wished I had a jar to take some back to Basil to offer up for our kefir, but, even though I do like to collect them, I'm not in the habit of walking around with empty jars.

Instead we had to settle for one of my favourite Michoacan treats: the energetico! The energetico is a big cup with layers of fresh seasonal fruit and yoghurt topped with any combo of nuts, amarynth or chocolate sprinkles.

avocados & blue agave

Agriculturally rich Michoacan is the avocado growing capital of the world. Between Angahuan and Zamora we cycle past thousands of avocado trees. Nearing the north of the state and the border with Jalisco state (home to tequila and blue agave) we start to see sharply ordered fields of proud blue agave.

Streetside breakfast

Creamy beans, handmade tortillas, fresh salsa, nopal cactus salad, grilled beef, onions, peppers and nopal paddles beckon me from a streetside grill in the Zamora market. I quickly change my mind from a breakfast of Mexican style eggs to anything from the tasty grill beside me.

chongos

Painfully sweet curdled milk that squeaks between my teeth as I chew is not my idea of a dessert, but they love to make it in Zamora and Basil looks forward to sweeting himself out on the stuff whenever we pass through the area.

Hibiscus Gatorade

In Tinguindin,Michoacan there is a lovely hotel called Meson de la Calle Real. Inside this hotel is one of the most lovingly maintained little gardens of any small Mexican hotel I have visited. Moments after having dropped my dried hibiscus leaves into our morning concoction of water, honey and hydration salts, I was delighted when one of our group pointed to the beautiful deep red blossom that had opened up to greet the morning. Hibiscus: a tasty, sexy bud.

Adios Angahuan

The beautiful riding through quiet backroads keeps bringing us back to Angahuan. While the volcano is definitely an attraction, the time spent admiring this unapologetically indigenous village is the real star of this stop.

Volcan de Paricutin

14 kilometers from the town of Angahuan sits the world's newest volcano and the only volcano whose entire life cycle has been recorded from birth to death. Most folks who've made their way out this far head by horse or by foot to check out the church or to the lookout to see the volcano from a distance. If you have the time, the most rewarding activity is to rent a horse and make the trip out through the volcanic ash filled fields to the base of the volcano where you can climb up over the lava past the steam vents to the top of the 424m cinder cone that literally rose up out of Dionisio Pulido's corn field between 1943 an 1952.

Blue Corn Heaven

Many, many generations ago somewhere in Latin America one of the greatest miracles of all agricultural time took place when some attentive soul decided to favour a grass with a few hard to use kernals. Over time this grass gained more and more kernals gradually transforming into an ear of corn and, eventually transforming into the mainstay of a host of Latin American diets.


In Mexico, this staple takes many forms, but the most universal is the tortilla. In Angahuan, this pancakesque miracle is often derived from blue corn which is an increasingly rare treat. One of the most beautiful places to sit and enjoy tasty treats shaped of ground blue corn dough is at the foot of the lava engulfed church of San Juan Parangaricutiro.

Authentically Angahuan

Angahuan is tucked safely away from the reach of the Paricutin Volcano. It is an unusual destination. While the volcano draws international and Mexican tourists, the village clings fiercely to it's Purepecha roots. Alien to foreign ears, the daily news is droned out in the Purepecha language three times a day over the village loudspeakers. Horses are the main form of transportation that makes it's way up and down the cobble and dirt streets. Negotiating the manure, and dirt and cobbles can seem treacherous at times. While making your way through town keep your eyes peeled for anyone selling blue corn tortillas and eat with Mercedes at Restaurant Angahuan.

Dia de los Muertos

Some very useful advice prepared us for the reception we would receive when we paused at the cemetery outside Pomacuaran on our route to Angahuan. As our troop of cyclists wandered through the festivities dressed in spandex and cycling shoes the celebrants welcomed us into their event by piling our arms high with tamales, chayote, gelatin, bananas, pan de muerto, and bottomless bowls of piping hot pozole. Attending the Mexican celebration of the dead and seeing first hand the universal beauty of the homage paid to loved ones who have passed on, I can't help but wonder about the solitary way we handle death in our own culture.

Pedalling into the Night of the Dead

Pedalling around the shores of Lake Patzcuaro we quickly made our way away from the big tourist draw of Janitzio Island. On the night of November 1st, far away from the tourist crowds in the Purepecha village of Cheran, we made our the cemetary to take in the Noche de Muertos celebrations only to discover some serious overcrowding.