Those blighted birds in the square waked us again before 5 A.M., so I
got up immediately, and we were down on the sidewalk at 5:30 having
breakfast. Later we were joined by our Americans and together drove to
the station for the 6:20 A.M. Mexican train. On arrival we were refused
a ticket, being informed by the office that already more tickets had
been sold than they had accommodations for. We pushed by the barrier,
and boarded the train, it was obvious we must get there somehow.
Many of our fellow shipmates were on the train and kindly offered to
take turns, sharing their seats. Heaps of people were standing. The
compartment was like a tramcar, even with the luxury of a seat it
was not a 15-hour journey that promised any comfort. As the day grew
hotter, I found the best place was to sit on the platform of the last
coach and dangle my feet overboard. Dick and Louise joined me. Three
or four men stood up behind us and on the steps of the platform right
and left sat armed guards, rifle in hand. Rumor had it that the train
had been known to be attacked by bandits in lonely places. Most of
the time our armed guard slept, and one of them fell off, but run as
he would he could not catch up the train. We climbed and climbed up
through the mountains to a height of 10,000 feet until we were cloud
enveloped--the train couldn’t go very fast, and some of the youths of
the party did actually jump off and run behind.
During the first part of our journey we passed through a chaotic
riot of tropical vegetation. Everything grew everywhere, under giant
trees were dense bushes, and on the tree trunks and branches grew
countless other species of plant, as though a gardener had grafted
one onto another in profuse experiment. There were banana, cocoanut,
coffee, maize and so many new and bright-colored flowers that I was
bewildered. There is not a flower or a fruit of any color or shape that
any Futurist could invent, that does not grow in Mexico. We stopped at
wayside stations, where the villages were built of grass huts and the
natives in bright colors were like flowers among the green. Mexicans on
bucking ponies, over which they had perfect control, were all part of
what seemed almost a stage scene. As we climbed higher, however, the
luxuriant vegetation ceased, but the effects of sunlight and shadow
as we looked down from the damp clouds onto the sunlit valleys below,
really was grandiose. After that it became so cold we were forced
to return inside the coach. For hours we endured closed windows,
over-crowded seats, smoking and spitting, and eventually the smell of
primitive oil lamps. Outside one looked for miles and hours onto plains
covered with cactus. One’s back ached and one’s head was heavy, but no
sleep was possible, and there was nowhere to rest one’s head. Dick sat
on my knee, and was astonishingly good. I have, in fact, never known
him so before. He seemed to realize that our nerves were as tense as
possible. He stroked my cheek and said he could see by my eyes that I
was tired, he was caressing and gentle.... Oh! those miles and miles of
cactus, how one grew to hate them, and the Chinaman who would spit and
the Mexican who would stare, and the baby who would cry, and the man
who would smoke a cigar, and the woman who would close the last window!
At 8:30 P.M. the lights of Mexico City proclaimed our journey ended,
and just in time, for there comes at last a moment when one’s courage
and sense of adventure just crumple and one has to cry. I was terribly
near it, when our American friends came and joined us. I declare if
there had been more room I would have laid my head on the shoulder of
one. They were gallant to the end, and saw us safely installed in the
Imperial Hotel, before saying good-bye, and then: We slept, we slept,
we slept....