I must say, we seemed to step into Mexico the instant we got in line to check in at the Sacramento "International" Airport. Everyone -- and I mean everyone except one other white lady -- was speaking Spanish. Lots and lots of babies on the flight.
Mexicana Airlines is a great company and the flight was uneventful. We retrieved our rental car and got some rudimentary directions into town and headed out. The instant we left the airport we confronted about six vehicles stuffed with armed soldiers. Vehicles were posted at the exit and entrance to the highway, and several guarded entry to the facility we were passing.
"Are we supposed to stop?" I asked Mindi. We slowed to a crawl, trying to get the attention of the soldiers standing on the side of the road. The officer posted on the road had his back to us and did not turn around.
It was quite intimidating, being from California and all, to see regular patrols of soldiers with their trigger fingers poised on their automatic rifles. I gulped mightily and stopped.
We looked pathetically at the group of soldiers and shot a questioning glance. They laughed and waved us on. Turns out that was the entrance to a military base, so not too unusual. (Except we didn't see another such show of force the rest of our trip.)I do have to apologize for not having a photo of all this. It just seemed more prudent not to do anything questionable.
After taking the possibly more direct, but slower, route into town suggested by the rental car company, we finally got to the zocalo in the old city center of Veracruz. That I do have a picture of:
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