Normally this trip takes approximately 3 1/2 hours on a toll road that is a safe and scenic route that links the beautiful inland city of Morelia with the coast. We were surprised when at the second of the 5 toll booths that cars normally proceed through after paying the appropriate peso amount, cones were laid out blocking our passage. A friendly and kind taxi driver wound his way over to us, probably sensing our confusion, and explained in his best "Ingles" that there had been a problem with gasoline, bullets and that the road was closed because it was not safe due to the drug wars. We were then directed to park off to the side in one of the well laid out rest areas with banos and food vendors. Luckily, we had packed some drinks and together with Cori, we waited patiently in the shade and watched all of the other travellers, truck drivers, tourists and buses watching for a clue about what to do next.
We soon began to see the traffic begin to move through the tollbooth, so we jumped back in and were instructed by an official to proceed with caution and a quickly explained direction was given. Tentatively we started out and soon realized we were the only vehicle proceeding onward...this couldn't be right. Directly ahead, blocking the road was an ambulance, with a couple of vehicles behind it. We had just passed an exit, so we did a quick u-turn and headed off on the side road which pointed to Ario de Rosales. This was likely the directions we were given, so with mounting confidence we began a lovely drive through the countryside, climbing higher and higher into the pine forests and poinsettias growing wild along the roadside.
In the town of Ario de Rosales, we witnessed one of the many displays of force the drug cartel "La Familia" had chosen to use as a message to the federales that day. A not yet opened Pemex station was smoldering, with the truck which had been used to ram the gates sitting along the roadside, guarded by Federales in full combat gear. At the next major intersection, we were directed by police to proceed with caution towards Parzcuaro. We passed over a smoldering tarred road with a fully burned out delivery truck sitting on one side, the fire having spread across both sides of the road. With these images in our minds, we were very grateful to arrive safely 6 1/2 hours later in our dog-friendly B&B Casa Encantada in Patzcuaro.
Going to Patzcuaro for me is now like returning to a familiar place one where we have a favorite restaurant, a favorite furniture shop, and most of all some favorite vistas. 
The town is a photographers dream. However, we had planned to add Quiroga and Tsintsuntsan to our 2 days of shopping and both places provided just the treasures we were all looking for. Most of my shopping for our 2 apartments is done, but when we found ourselves in Capula the home of clay artists....
Gene and I couldn't pass up a treasure, my new Catrina found on the shelves of the mercado de artesanias of this small village close to Morelia.
So on Saturday, after checking with our hotel staff and being assured the road was safe, we began our trip home. We soon realized things weren't normal when we began passing the tollbooths and all were open with no staff collecting the fees. Traffic was light and we watched truckloads of army personnel travelling back in the direction we were leaving. We were enjoying the quiet roads but knew we were approaching the intersection for Apatzingan, the home of the druglord "the most crazy one" who was reportedly killed 2 days prior to this. Sr. Moreno, a modern day Robin Hood with an AK47 had become a bit of a folk hero to the locals and since his death increasingly numbers of locals had expressed anger at the military for making this war in their state. Todays article in the LA times explains more.
We faced a shocking sight, no less than 8 large trucks, and other no longer recognizable vehicles lay burned out across the highway, still smoldering. A civilian waved us down and Gene wisely exited across the highway and re-entered on the other side of the smoldering wreckage. Our hearts hung heavy thinking of the people who may have been killed or at the very least totally traumatized by their vehicles being commandered for a show of force in retaliation for the druglords killing. We silently proceeded with our eyes and ears vigilant for any signs of danger, and when an 18 wheeler did a slow pull out across the highway ahead of us, Gene later said he was planning one of the moves seen in a James Bond movie, in case the tanker was firebombed directly ahead of us. But Gracias a Dios, we drove by and were soon back in our little resort which a friend later told me is the "disneyland" of Mexico...an oasis of peace where perhaps one of our states drug cartels and our local police have learned to live in harmony.
And we arrived just in time to see the final festivities of the Virgen of Guadalupe one more time...the religious equivalent to a Calgary Stampede, the Saanich Fair and the Santa Claus parade all rolled into one...hard to believe that only hours before all of this peace and beauty seemed to have ceased to exist here.
Mexico is a country with many layers and as an outsider, I will never understand how the peaceful, gentle people we see everyday can at the same time be subjected to the corruption and violence that lies beneath the surface, just inland from our safe home. Perhaps what we witnessed this weekend is the legacy resulting from the years of fighting that occured in gaining this country's independence and todays drug lord folk heroes are not much different than the heroes of the revolutions of the past. So many questions and so few answers! 
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