For a lot of people, tequila is one of the most recognizable products of Mexico, the country's brand. And that's why when we visited the Mexican state of Jalisco, we could not pass up an opportunity to visit the nearby town of Tequila, known obviously, for tequila.
Located just 40 miles northwest of Guadalajara, Tequila was an easy day trip. After initially weighing the option of renting a car and driving in, we decided to go to Tequila with the Jose Cuervo Express. The website boasted a unique experience of visiting the oldest tequila distillery, the colorful town center, and then an unforgettable train ride through blue agave fields on the Jose Cuervo Express back to Guadalajara. I am happy to report that the trip was a big success and a highly recommended experience.
After exploring Guadalajara for a full day, the next morning, we headed to the bus terminal. Our tour included a bus ride to Tequila and then a train back to the city at sunset. Also, we could do the trip in reverse order: a train ride to Tequila in the morning and then a bus ride back to Guadalajara in the evening. We chose to do the train in the evening as it appeared to be a highlight of the trip according to multiple reviews, and we wanted to cap our day with the best experience possible.
After grabbing a quick breakfast of street tacos, I was putting my Spanish skills to use, trying to find where the bus station was. We found the station fine, but confidence in my Spanish quickly grew into overconfidence and almost cost us the entire experience. As we approached the bus station, we needed to pick up our tickets. There were two lines: one for Spanish speakers and the other for English speakers. The Spanish line was much longer, while the English line was almost non-existent.
“I want to practice my Spanish,” I informed Julia, lining up in a long queue.
What I did not realize is that the line was not just for Spanish-speaking people picking up tickets; the line was for those who wanted to take a tour of Tequila in Spanish. Although my Spanish was good enough to communicate regarding picking up the tickets, it was nowhere near close to allowing me to comprehend the entire tour of Tequila, including a specialized presentation of the tequila-making process. And not to mention that Julia speaks no Spanish at all. We narrowly avoided a mix-up that could’ve left us lost in translation all day. As we approached the ticket counter, a young Mexican guy quizzically looked at Julia and me and delicately asked: “Español o Ingles?”
“Quiero practicar Español,” I said with a smile.
The guy sensed that something was off, switched to English, and said: “Oh, you want to practice Spanish, that’s fine, I just wanted to make sure that you actually want to go on a Spanish-speaking tour.” I realized my mistake, apologized, and asked to be put on an English-speaking bus.
The bus ride to Tequila was fun. All passengers received a plastic bottle with a tequila-based cocktail and were told that refills were unlimited. Julia, a zealous teetotaler but someone who loves free stuff, was initially torn about whether to drink or not, and then freaked me out when she asked for a refill while we were still within Guadalajara city limits.
“Please pace yourself. You have zero tolerance for alcohol. And we have a full day ahead of us.” I said with a hint of concern in my voice.
“Ooh… look at that guy… he looks pretty...”
“Oh no…”
The tour guide on the bus was a young, chirpy Mexican girl in her late 20s with perfect English. As we were leaving Guadalajara, she described the program for the day, reminded everyone about limitless refills, and then invited everyone to participate in a very popular Mexican game of “La loteria”, a Mexican version of bingo. Each passenger received a board with a grid of random colorful pictures, and the tour guide then drew cards with images from a deck of cards. As the bus was making its way through the Jalisco countryside, the tour guide would shout out the name of the card in Spanish and then repeat it in English, with people keeping track of their boards, checking off the images. The winner, the one who would get all the images checked off first, was promised a bottle of fine tequila.
“El gato!” “A cat!”
“El perro!” “A dog!”
“El Negrito! “A little black person!”
“Wait, what? What did she just say?” I asked Julia.
“El Negrito! A little black person! Who has a little black person?” The game host confidently repeated the last card.
“Apparently, I do,” said Julia, tipping her head back and pouring the rest of the margarita from the plastic bottle into her mouth.
Later, we learned that “El Negrito” was not a derogatory term but simply a reference to a black person and not in a racist way. Or at least that’s what we were told.
After riding on the bus for almost an hour, we finally arrived in Tequila, making our first stop outside of the town, in the fields of blue agave. The morning was hot and sunny. The landscape before our eyes was surreal: endless neat rows of blue agave plants stretching beyond the horizon. As our group spilled out of the bus, we were greeted by el jimador, a tall and muscular Mexican farmer holding his tool of labor, a flat-bladed knife with a long handle (coa de jima). El jimador wore sturdy boots and was dressed in pants, a white shirt with a red satchel, and a cowboy hat. He had a very charismatic appearance and could easily be used as an actor for tequila TV commercials. As we were forming a semi-circle in front of him, he stood tall with a giant blue agave plant at his feet. Through our tour guide, el jimador gave us a short presentation on agave plants and how they are cultivated and harvested. He explained that once a blue agave plant is ripe, jimadors cut all external leaves of the plant, producing what looks like an oversized pineapple (piña). He then skillfully demonstrated how it is done. Piñas are then transported to the distillery, where they are cooked in preparation for tequila.
Before we were taken to the distillery where the rest of the process was explained, we had an additional 20 minutes of free time to walk the blue agave fields, enjoy the views, and take pictures. A mariachi band played nearby to entertain visitors and created the perfect atmosphere. Like tequila, mariachi music also originated in Jalisco. At this point, we noticed that tourists who arrived on Spanish-speaking buses greatly outnumbered foreigners. This was a very comforting observation that locals do travel and can enjoy discovering their own country. Mexican tourists also set the perfect mood for the place as they joyously sang all the songs that the mariachi band played.
Next week, read about our exploration of the oldest distillery in Latin America, the town of Tequila, and an unforgettable train ride through blue agave fields.
