“Tlaxcala?’ a fellow expat asked me. “It’s in Puebla, right?” No, actually. Tlaxcala is a state, the smallest in Mexico, Puebla’s neighbor.
Tlaxcala is also the name of this tiny state’s capital city. But my friend’s ignorance is common. The eponymous capital attracts so few tourists, domestic or international, that its official self-effacing motto is, Tlaxcala: ¡Sí! Existe! (Yes, it exists!) My husband and I might never have visited the city were it not for a friend who regularly hikes up nearby La Malinche, Mexico’s fifth highest peak, to train for even higher peaks in the Himalayas and the Andes.
The volcano is a nontechnical climb that anyone in reasonable shape should be able to do, so as veteran hikers and backpackers, Barry and I were game. A few minutes from the trailhead, we met a mom from Puebla and her two adult children on the path. “Are you going to the top?” she asked us.
Well, duh, I thought. When have we ever not summited? But I didn’t want to be rude, and, besides, I don’t know how to express “duh” in Spanish, so I simply said, “Yes, we are.” Barry and I hiked along a shady, gently rising forest path for a couple of hours.
It wasn’t too steep, though I could tell by my labored breathing that we were already at 11,000 feet. Then we reached an open area where we could see the nearby peak of Orizaba, and up ahead, a scramble of boulders. It was hard going, so we took a break at the start of the boulders.
I carried on a few .
