Its a bird, its a plane its a ... narco?

During my time I have spent many many days, weeks, months possibly even on the road and travelling from place to place. And while the majority of those have been more or less uneventful, mundane and painful, there have been a few interesting ones. And as one may imagine, many of those exciting and story worthy events are taken by hitch hiking. But there is now possibly a new "most interesting" to add to my list. So this story starts in Maruata, a beautiful hippie beach on the coast of Michoacan (a state in Mexico). Of course in true luck my bowels decided to be a pendejo and give me grief, so I headed back early for Puebla to a (relatively) clean toilet with a seat!

So I was sitting on the side of the road waiting for a bus to pass to take me to the next big city where I could catch and overnight bus back to Puebla. Now let me note here that prior to heading to the roadside to wait for the bus (like several hours I'm talking about) I decided to share a magically delicious brownie with my tent neighbour. So after an incredible journey I was still feeling somewhat funny as I sat at the bus stop. With my judgement impaired and my patience growing more and more thin as I waited for the bus, when a pickup truck pulled up my brain wasn't really working so well. "You want lift?" Asked the man in broken English. "Lazaro Cardenas." 'Now wait just a second there mister,' I was thinking. 'Pickup trucks are faster than buses and its here right now.' Forget all the warnings my Mexican friends had given me about narcos, Michoacan, pick up trucks, dodgy looking people etc, I threw my backpack in the back and jumped in.

Miguel was our friendly driver and Jose the other passenger/hitch hiker in the truck. At first they seemed lovely, chatty, interesting, having a joke and not at one moment sleazy or weird. I will admit though I was slightly weirded out at first by the opened 6 pack of beer that Miguel was knocking back as he drove along. As well, I noticed that Miguel's pick up truck was 1 in a convoy of about 3 or 4. Another warning given to me by my Mexican friends was that convoys of pick up trucks are almost ALWAYS narcos. So I asked him, "why the convoy?" He reassured me that it was just his cousins and that they all liked to travel together. I decided to leave it at that, there are some things I just did not care to know. And of course I was a complete state cadet at that point, just staring out the windows at the twisting, winding, curving hills and obligingly laughing at Miguel's jokes.

Of course on more than one occasion on the 3.5 hour drive I asked myself was this SUCH a good idea. After all I was travelling with 2 strange men, stoned out of my mind, a drunk driver, in a convoy, in a pick up truck and in one of Mexicos most dangerous states. But the WHAT THE FUCK moment came later... Well, it came a few times. On a few occasions Miguel pulled over the truck to 'talk to his friends' in the small villages that we passed which I observed to mean

• Flash some money around and redistribute it around the other men there
• Buy some more beer
• Offer to buy me dinner
• Insist that I eat something because I looked too skinny (HA!!! But thanks anyway)
• Talk to his friends

It was always a little freaky though because all of these men had moustaches, pick up trucks and lots of money which had me seriously wondering whether or not they were in fact narcos. The freakiest part of course came when we were in the middle of the forest with nothing around except for a big gate that looked like it led into the rainforest. Warning number #764638 from my Mexican friends... NEVER ever go into something that looks like a farm or a ranch because they will probably kill you. So when we pulled over here I was almost ready to run when Miguel told me "just need to take a leak, brb." Whether it was me being paranoid or whether it appeared to be an objectively dodgy situation I will never be completely sure.

 So at the end of the day maybe they were narcos or maybe they weren't. But I ended up safely where I needed to be (at the bus terminal) and without being kidnapped, raped nor hit on. We chatted, joked and had a great trip (those moments that I wasn't crippled by paranoia) and he even fattened me up with candy and softdrink. And although I was willing to pay him for the lift and for all the food, he asked me out of the blue, "which hand do you write with?" I said "err... my right." "Show me," he asked and I waved my hand at him. In an instant he shoved a $100 peso note and closed my hand, insisting that I keep the money and look after myself.

• So although it could have been a terrible horrible situation and a headline reading "Stoned Australian Hitch Hiker Killed in Mexico by Narcos," everything turned out for the best. Would I do it again? I seriously doubt it... but it was an adventure and I DID save myself a bit of coin (and time!).