Catemaco

Continuing south, first we rode through flat, clear-cut swamplands, until we left the main road and began to wind up forested hills, distinctive in shape, which sculpted out a series of gentle valleys with steep slopes. Clouds suddenly appeared as if the hilltops created their own weather pattern. Nestled in the woods was the town of Santiago Tuxtla, where if I had any sense I would have stopped to look around for a day or two. But we pressed on through a gap in the hills, the sun returned, and we drove through the larger town of San Andres Tuxtla and into the lakeside village of Catemaco.

Although a natural tourist spot, the people who live there manage to give the impression that they own the town. Many of them keep yards with poultry or donkeys, and restless kids and teenagers bide their time around the colorful Zócalo.

The lake is ringed by volcanoes and hosts a dizzying number of herons and other birds. In cloudy weather, its opposite side is invisible and you have the sense that it could swallow you up. It has an almost otherworldly beauty, but the only easy way to see it is on a boat tour from town; I would have preferred a motorless craft that did not drown out the more pleasant sounds of a developed tropical ecosystem.

Our boat stopped at hotels on the shore so the guide could recite to us their prices and amenities. There were beaches along the way with improvised huts where parents could sip a corona; and with crocodiles, according to my guidebook, though I never saw any. At one of our stops, a woman stepped out of her house and offered to sell us a muddy-looking skin ointment with complicated instructions for its application. A man on the boat who was translating for me asked if I wanted to buy any. But he almost looked like he was joking, so I was left uncertain about its true properties.

Baboons from Thailand live on one of the islands. They are studied by a university.

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