After some serious online investigating, Adam came across a hiking tour which guided you through the Sierra Norte area, south of Oaxaca City. He discovered a community movement which was designed to keep local people within their rural farming communities, by creating jobs. The picturesque region is full of walking trails which were carved out by the indigenous owners, the Zapotec’s, and used as the only mode of transport between the community. The program was well designed and had created many jobs within the communities. Employees were required to run the office administration, guide tourists between towns, translate, prepare and serve meals, and even build accommodation specific for tourists needs.
We booked through a tour agent in an office in Oaxaca city. We sat with a lady from one of the Sierra Norte communities, flicked through a plastic folder of unhelpful information and attempted to map out the path we would like to walk. Information was sparse and confusing, so we ended up deciding based on a blog Adam had read and went in with our fingers crossed.

At the office we decided to take the hard work out of the trip and pay a bit extra for a transfer to the starting point. It started well, he arrived on time and knew where he was taking us, the only slightly odd part that his wife was in the passenger seat when we jumped in! Our limited Spanish and the drivers absent English meant there was little conversation. That suited us, we were happy to sit back and take in the scenery for the 1.5 hour ride. Once we got moving and headed out to the main highway we soon realised our driver was a maniac. He was weaving in and out of traffic, constantly looking at his phone and eventually sharply pulled over on the side of the freeway, putting the hand brake on and amongst beeping and swerving cars crossed the road to a waiting taxi, to make an exchange before returning to us. I was a bit of a nervous wreck by this point, making eyes at Adam and squeezing his hand from fear! The reckless driving continued along the freeway and into the winding, gravel roads of the mountains. Old mate was driving but appeared more interested in his phone so eventually Adam came to the rescue and asked in Spanish if he would mind not using it! The drive improved after that and he was extremely apologetic when we got out, I was just praying he wasn’t picking us up again at the other end, surely not.

Our hike began in the quaint farming town of Benito Juarez, where we checked in at the office and were introduced to our 13-year-old guide, Eva. Eva guided us through her town and into the forest for 8 km, to eventually reach La Neveria by lunch time. In our terrible Spanish we think we managed to gather some information along the way. Eva was very patient and even tried google translate on a few occasions to give us a hand! She introduced us to trees they used to cure headache caused by altitude sickness, and many others of different shapes, colours and with other medicinal properties. The forest was fascinating from floor to canopy. Pine cones, air plants, moss, flowers, cacti, lizards, birdlife, farm animals and pine and hardwood trees galore. The forest floor was covered by fallen leaves and dry pine needles which made for an extremely slippery adventure. Arriving into La Neveria we were buggered, we were puffing and panting and reaching for our water bottles after the uphill slog and Eva was cruising. She dropped us at the tour office and smiled from ear to ear when we offered her a small tip. She hurried off to the local shop and appeared soon after with a coke and cherry ripe! We were glad to see she was able to have some reward for her work!

After a very traditional Mexican lunch of frijoles, cheese and a spinach and egg pancake, we were picked up by guide Samwell and travelled a further 13km through the bush to the township of Latuvi. There was talk of not needing a guide to do the hikes, but we got our monies worth when Samual was walking ahead and saved us from walking over a perfectly camouflaged snake lying directly in our path. The walk with Samwell was reasonably similar to the morning hike, we slid, ducked and climbed through the forest but eventually met a newer road. We followed it along the river, past crops, farm animals and locals herding their animals, eventually arriving for the night in Latuvi. The accommodation surpassed our expectations. Newly made brick huts, kitted out with hot water showers, fire places and gorgeous views across the valley. We arrived in time for sunset, and as we were sitting back, relaxing with our view we came across the only other hikers we had seen for the whole day. We got chatting with Atsuko and Duncan, a retired couple from the UK, and began sharing our stories from the day. Fortunately, they had managed to hire a translator for their tour, which we had requested but had been unable to have due to availabiilty. Kindly, Atsuko and Duncan offered for us to walk alongside them and their translator Asaiel for the next two days and we were wrapt. We walked together, listening to their life stories, and learnt about the local community from Asaiel and our local guides. Having a translator made such a huge difference. We learnt about the native flora and fauna, farming practices, the way of life of the locals and were able to clarify information from the day before which we clearly lost in translation!

Our second day was spent hiking along the river to eventually arrive in Amatlán, Acaiel’s home town. The walk was quite different to the day before and had us travelling through thick forests of aged trees covered in log strands of ‘old man’s whiskers’, creating a seemingly mystical but eerie atmosphere. We walked past religious monuments which locals had created and heard stories of local myths about religious or sacred ancestors living in nearby caves and mountains. Acaiel and our guide found some dead trees and set to work hacking then apart to find wood worms, which they collected for the guide to take home to cook up as his protein hit! He had some in his bag which he had already cooked and prepared and offered them to the group. Everyone had one except me, I found it hard to look at them let alone eat one! All reports indicated they were harmless but probably not going to be requested again! In the evening Acaiel came and collected us after a short rest and offered to give us a tour of his town. He led us up a steep hill located in the middle, where their local cemetery stood with a spectacular view over the valley below and a deep orange and pink sunset on display. We learnt about ‘the day of the dead’ traditions and visited the graves, including Acaiels grandparents. Acaiel explained that due to the small size of the cemetery, when a family member passes away, the families existing grave site is often dug up and the buried bones are retrieved and added to the new casket, being reburied with the newly deceased. A bit of a haunting thought for me. That night, as with the night before, we were spoilt and had staff come to light the open fire in our room while we were at dinner. Returning after a feast of soup, chicken and delicious local hot chocolate, our room was warm and initially romantic until we were nearly smoked out by the poorly functioning chimneys!

On the final day, we were greeted by a local, glacier eyed, flee ridden dog at the gate and left with Acaiel for our final hike together. The irresistibly gorgeous pup followed us for our entire four-hour hike as we visited the old deserted mining site, underground mine and found miradors which overlooked the communities below. As we arrived back into town, passing Asaiels house, and stumbling across and meeting his mum, Asaeil told us that only 50% of the houses in his community were occupied. The community was once heavily populated due to the working opportunities which the mine delivered however since the mines demise, there were huge issues finding work in the area and people were simply having to move to bigger cities to earn money to survive. Asaiel himself had moved to the US with his family years earlier to provide their children with a better education, however due to Trumps archaic governance, Acaiel was forced to leave his family behind and return to Mexico. He is very well established in his community, with family and parents nearby, however not being able to stay with his family as they grow and become independent must be heart breaking. We are so lucky to be Australian.

After a long lunch we said our goodbyes and were devastated to see that the maniac driver was our transport home. He overtook on double lines, passed huge trucks beside sheer cliff faces and had my anxiety peaking. I kept rehearsing in my head what I could say in Spanish and when I eventually reached my limit of tolerance, I shrieked in his direction that we were not in a hurry and could he slow down. He was again responsive, but I was so mad he had ruined the end of an otherwise, amazing and surprisingly rewarding three days.