The last Tarzan alive
Living on a hill in Mexican Sierra
I am lying on a couch that I did not own till recently and I feel like a peel of a thoroughly squeezed lemon left out under the Mexican sun for couple days. Pretty juice-free.
It has been exactly 1435 days since I embarked on the greatest adventure of my life that ended up….well it is not over and it is not that simple so let’s dive into it.
Rewind to the end of June 2021 when I’m leaving Playa del Carmen with my black shiny 8 cylinder X5 beamer loaded to the last cube inch with all my possessions. I felt invincible. I was excited for the new chapter ahead. If I only knew what I am embarking upon, and that the 5 years which I served in French Foreign Legion some 20 years ago would look like a walk in blooming sakura garden next to it, I would turn the car around, unload my stuff back to the comfortable two bedroom apartment I was renting 5 minutes from the beach, and thank all gods for saving me from the hardest and longest crises I ever went through.
I didn’t have a clue. So I jumped on the devil and put the pedal to the floor.
Two days and couple speeding infractions later (I will not say tickets because you don’t get a ticket in Mexico - you pay whatever you negotiate- cash in cop’s hand and off you go at the same speed) I was finally nearing the end of 2000+ km drive from Playa del Carmen to a small village nobody knows in Sierra Norte Poblana region. My future home (prison).
So how did I end up in the part of Mexico that 99% of Mexicans (and 100% of foreigners) never heard about?
In January 2021 I was getting treatment from a young and very talented chiropractor in Playa. We quickly became friends. One day, while doing his magic on my battered shoulder, he mentioned that all he knows he learned from his dad. A man of many virtues who retired in the mountains, in a small hidden place of pure magic per his account. Upon hearing this a lightbulb switched on in my head. I told him that I will go and visit his dad. He laughed, knowing how hard it is to get there driving. Two weeks later I was pulling in his dad’s property. Kena the Witch was with me, but that is another story for another time.
What happened there in the next 10 hours could be called “the love at first sight”. I fell in love with the gentleman and I fell in love with the place. In those 10 hours I also decided that I will find and buy a land right there and that I will move there. 11 hours later I found that land. 3 months later I was signing the purchase contract at the notary who never had a gringo (hard to explain them I am European) as a client.
If you knew me you’d say- typical Jan. One of his crazy impulsive decisions that totally changed his life. Just like when he moved to Canada on a whim after getting drunk in a bar in Prague and ended up being Canadian citizen for the next 11 years. And I would tell you- hell yeah. This one will be hard to beat though. Even for the last Tarzan alive.
Lying on the couch which I didn’t own until few months ago, after 4 years of hell that I wish upon no man, with laptop on my lap, my bones and muscles hurting like a madarchod and a substack account fresher than the rosemary I just picked up in front of my door to sprinkle on my lunch - I serenely attest to be a different person than the one who rolled in that unknown village with his totally out of place Beamer, thinking that he is the shit who will conquer it all.
Just like I conquered all the other challenges in my life.
Little did I know that Tarzan is up for painful humbling of his cocky ass.
Stay tuned!