Back on the river, we paddle on toward the Paso-Tucán camp, seven acres of jungle on which a collection of eight palapa-covered tents are set among plantings of cinnamon, mango, banana, coconut, and passion fruit. Over Eduardo’s palapa hangs a cross—“to keep me good”—he says, a very un-Santa Claus-like glint in his eye and a bottle of Don Julio tequila in his hand.
Camping with Eduardo and Raúl’s outfit is not camping as practiced by your local Girl Scout troop. Dinner is prepared and served under a gigantic palapa by the Concha family, who, should they ever decide to open a restaurant in midtown Manhattan, would find themselves with lines stretching up to the George Washington Bridge. But the Hudson could never provide what the Río Bobos brings to this meal. The mild, white-fleshed bobo, the indigenous fish for which the river is named, is tucked into tamales that are wrapped in the anise-flavored leaves of the hoja santa bush and then steamed. Or the fish is made into crisp fried seafood cakes. Shrimp, netted a few hours earlier in the river, are mixed with fragrant rice and heaped into Veracruz’s iconic seafood soup-stew, chilpachole.
The next morning, as we bundle up our gear and prepare to leave camp, we spot Eduardo, bare-chested and perched on a boulder in the middle of the rushing river, shaving and humming an old Mexican folk tune. From a banana tree jutting from the far shore, a bird calls out in a pitch that sounds more like a squeaky bicycle wheel, and Raúl has his birding glasses trained on the source of the noise. It’s hard to imagine these two sitting behind their drafting tables back in Mexico City, planning new buildings for the already sprawling megalopolis as they cook up schemes to save ancient ones.
And as our truck lurches up the hill, out of the jungle and toward an airplane that will take us across a border, back to a place where the highways are smooth, and where no one has even heard of a zacahuitl, it seems the hardest road to follow in Veracruz is the one that takes you back home.
Where It’s Happening in Veracruz
Staying There
In Jalapa (also spelled Xalapa), which is a great base for exploring the region, the beautifully restored Hotel Mesón del Alférez (011-52-228-818-0113; from $32) began life as a private home in the 19th century. Its colonial-style rooms are filled with dark carved wood furniture and face a sunny courtyard. Its restaurant, Hostería La Candela, serves a breakfast worth getting up for: four-alarm huevos jalapeña (scrambled eggs with a chile salsa) and the antidote, pan de requesón, a whisper-thin layered bread filled with sweet, mild cheese.
The pickings are slim in towns like Tantoyuca, but there are several comfortable hotels in Tampico that cater to the oil business. The top of that line is the Hotel Camino Real (011-52-833-229-3542; from $95).
You may end up having to stay a night or two in Veracruz, where the port is the heart of the city. The Hotel Emporio (011-52-229-932-0020; from $134) has rooms with great water views ($152). And if water is really your thing, there are three swimming pools to choose from.
Eating There
Veracruz native Ricardo Muñoz, now a Mexico City chef and food historian, knows all the best cooks in Veracruz. Sign up for a tour with Culinary Adventures (253-851-7676; marilyn tausend.com; from $2,500), which is run by cookbook author Marilyn Tausend, and he’ll take you to the finest restaurants and even into private homes. Culinary Adventures also runs tours of Oaxaca with celebrity chef Rick Bayless.
The Churrería del Recuerdo (158 Guadalupe Victoria; 228-818-1678), in Jalapa, serves delicious light meals based on the kind of street food chef Raquel Torres remembers from childhood: Sugary fingers of deep-fried dough, called churros, dipped in thick dark chocolate a la mexicana; flour-dusted pambazos, mini-sandwiches filled with beans, thick crema, tomato, lettuce, and either chicken, ham, or the spicy sausage longaniza; and gorditas picadas (masa tartlets).
The Concha family not only cooks for the Río Bobos rafting trips but also owns a coffee plantation and, a few miles away, the Rancho Hotel El Carmen. (Carretera Tlapacoyan– Martínez de la Torre; Kilometer 39, Desv. Cascadas el Encanto; 011-52-225-315-1955) The rooms are on the sparse side, but the food is worth the trip (and the ride to the plantation is gorgeous). Sit on the porticoed terrace, enjoy an enchilada with pipián (a salsa made from pumpkin and sesame seeds), and drink fresh-roasted coffee on the spot.
The town of Xico is known for its sweetish licor verde, which tastes a little like lemongrass, and its complex mole xiqueño, a paste of mulato chile, fruits, nuts, seeds, spices, and chocolate, among a dozen or so other ingredients. At El Mesón Xiqueño (148 Miguel Hidalgo; 228-813-0781) you can have both, served in a tiled courtyard, followed by a football-size chocolate-encrusted vanilla ice cream bombe, the “volcán de pasión.”
It’s a long and winding but breathtakingly beautiful road to Restaurant Nachita II, where the Río Jalcomulco rushes below the open-air dining terrace and fresh, sweet river langoustines and shrimp are served in more than a dozen ways. (4 Francisco y Madero , Jalcomulco; 279-832-3519)
Being There
Run the rapids of the Río Bobos with Desarrollo Alternativo Natur (011-52-55-56-16-2144; ecotourismmexico.com; $140 per person per day), the ecotourism company run by Eduardo Beristain and Raúl de Villafranca. —N.M.
Pinterest
