On an early October morning I’m driving on route 85 from Mexico City to Pachuca. I’m in Pachuca studying ways to invest to improve access to finance for Mexicans. I found myself exploring another financial story. That of Cornish miners making a fortune rejuvinating old mines, builidng an English clock tower, and enjoying music in a colonial Spanish plaza.

Mexico City

I arrived to the Aeropuerto Internacional Benito Juárez in Mexico City in the late afternoon. It’s my second time in the city. There is a chill in the air as I hop out of the taxi outside of the Hotel Carlota. I am here just one night prior to driving to Pachuca in the morning. I’m in Mexico for work. Over the next few days I am going to lead a series of interviews with a social enterprise providing financial and healthcare services in Southern Mexico. Unprepared for the temperature, I find myself trying on jackets at the Zara in the Forum Buenavista Centro Commercial.

The hotel is just off the Avenida Paseo de la Reforma in the Juárez district. The entrance off of Rio Amazonas is unassuming. The glass doors swing open leading past the kitchen of the resaraunt and into a stylish space. An illuminated pool lingers empty at the centre of the room. A sleek transparent side glass wall is beautiful but also a deterrent to guests considering a swim.

Up in my room I’m pleased by the modern minimalist design. Stone walls, tall unshaded light bulbs, and basic metal sink focets draw my gaze. Appealing to the eyes, the stone does little to fend off the chill from the cold night. After reviewing my interview questions for the following morning, I retreat into the soft king-size bed. Glancing at the night-stand, I’m suprised to find a travel book about Vancouver. I haven’t been in my hometown for several months, and greedily take-in the photos as I sip on a cup of tea.

Driving to Pachuca

I was thirteen the first time I went to Mexico. I drove with a large group from Vancouver to San Diego and then over the border to San Quintín in Baja California. It was the first time I was outside of Canada or the United States. Mexico was the spark that kindled my love of travel.

I reflected on that trip during the silent moments between my driver and I during the 90 minutes drive from Mexico City to Pachuca. Mexico is a startlingly beautiful country. I spent the early morning gazing out the passenger seat window at the striking landscape disappearing into low mountains under a moody sky. My driver is a resident of Pachuca.

“Mexico was the spark that kindled my love of travel”

Before long, the conversation turned to politics and I listened about the cautious optimism represented by AMLO who was soon to take on the mantle of president of the United States of Mexico. He won by a landslide in the state of Hidalgo (AMLO won a plurality in 31 of Mexico’s 32 states). Double checking the president’s name (Andrés Manuel López Obrador) while writing this, Google’s auto-correct reflects the unease that some observers have expressed about the pending December 2018 inauguration: Almodipine, a medication used to treat high blood pressure.

Arriving in Pachuca

When I pull up to the Fiesta Inn I find a large passenger bus parked out front. Los Tigres, a football team from Monterrey, was in town for a Copa Mexico match against C.F. Pachuca. Two small lines had formed on either side between the entrance to the hotel and the bus. I squeezed through and made my way towards the elevator passing players who were greeted fondly in my wake. Incidently, the score that October night was 3-3 at full time. Pachuca won the match on penalties. I regret passing up an offer to attend the match.

Later, on my way to the city centre I pass a striking rainbow coloured hill full of murals. The taxi driver tells me that a few years ago the government sponsored a project to rejuvinate the relatively poor Las Palmitas neighbourhood by painting 200 homes. The Marco Mural project was led by Enrique Gomez, himself a former gang member. It was intended to change the image of the neighbourhood. I’ve read since my trip that the physical change to the area has had some positive effect on safety in the community. The hillside lends credence to the nickname of the city: La Bella Airosa (the beautiful windy city). We continued toward the city centre.

Pachuca’s Central Plaza

Climbing out of the taxi in Pachuca’s Plaza  de  Independencia I spot an attractive looking cafe. Adorned with classic looking decor and machines, I make my way to the counter and make inquiries. The owner explains that the shop is dressed up to reflect the history represented by the clock in the plaza. I order a tea and listen.

Just outside the cafe, in a very Spanish plaza sits a very English clock tower. Indeed, the inner-workings of the clock are apparantly the same as that of Big Ben in London. It turns out the region has a fascinating history.

The town of Mineral del Monte (about 30 minutes drive from Pachuca) yielded about half of the silver produced during Spanish colonial rule in Mexico (1521–1821). Thereafter the mines, then in disrepair, were bought by a group of English investors from Cornwall. For the purpose, they formed an enterprise called the ‘Company of the Gentlemen Adventurers in the Mines of Real del Monte’. Many of the early recruits died of yellow-fever on arrival in Veracruz. Subsequent arrivals, steam engines in-tow, drained the flooded mines and made a fortune. One such individual, Francis Rule, arrived at 17-years-old in 1853. In 1906 he helped finance the clock tower that I found in the plaza during my visit. The balcony on the tower was originally intended to serve as a stage for muscial performances. At 40 meters, it proved too high for audiences to enjoy, and so a kiosk was built alongside.

“Just outside the cafe, in a very Spanish plaza sits a very English clock tower.”

Wandering the Streets of Pachuca

Bells tolling behind me, I strolled down a street off of the plaza. I pass brick buildings with chipped paint, metal balconies, and rusty roofs on my way past a market and into a small plaza. There, I sit near a staute of Miguel Hidalgo for whom the state, of which Pachuca is the capital, is named. Hidalgo was a Roman Catholic priest who, following Napoleon’s invasion of Spain in 1808, argued for an independant Mexico. After his speech on September 16, 1810 known as “el grito de Dolores” (The cry of Dolores), Hidalgo took up arms. He is remembered as having initiated the 10-year struggle for Mexican independance (acheived in 1821). He was executed as a rebel in 1811. Today the Mexican president re-enacts the speech annually and September 16 is celebrated as Mexico’s Independance Day.

Food in Pachuca

Nearby I go for an early dinner. I’ve never felt a strong link between food and my national or cultural identity as a Canadian. As a result, I’m always slightly taken-a-back by the fervour with which Mexicans promote their own food. Indeed, in contrast to the plurality of responses a Canadian might give, everyone I’ve met from Mexico says that their favourite food is Mexican. And very often, their response will not stop there. Their faces light up as they talk very specifically about the food from their home town. All the more so if you meet them outside of Mexico.

“In contrast to the plurality of responses a Canadian might give, everyone I’ve met from Mexico says that their favourite food is Mexican.”

A manager of the social enterprise I’d been working with meets me at the restaraunt. To inform her of my preference for mildly spiced food, I relate a story of a culinary experience I had in Guadalajara a few years previous. I find it best to share with Mexicans as indirectly as possible about my aversion to the famously spicey nature of their food. Insisting (as Mexicans usually do) that not all the food on the menu is spicy, she waves for the waiter, indicates to him my preference, and they agree on a suitable option. Soon later, the waiter watched eagerly as I enjoy my first bite.

“Esta bien?” (is it ok?), he asks about the spice.

I nod and force a smile as my tongue wordlessly testifies to the contrary.

The University of Hidalgo

I completed my brief tour of Pachuca at the University of Hidalgo. An event is taking place as I climb the stairs past immaculate topiary (bush sculptures). One such sculpture appears to be a man worshipping the sculpture of Jesus on the hill overlooking the city. I feel like an outsider as I pass the students there for an express purpose, dressed in flowing robes. With a distinct but not unhappy sense of purposelessness I slide past them and into a small museum by the entrance.

I walk quickly past the assorted minerals, adquired by the museum over the past 150 years. My thoughts are increasingly focused elesewhere. They are not on the rich mining history of the region, but instead on the interviews I will lead over the next several days. As I glide past the result of 19th century entrepreneurship in the region, I’m reflecting on ways to finance the entrepreneurs of 21st century Pachuca.

“As I glide past the result of 19th century entrepreneurship in the region, I’m reflecting on ways to finance the entrepreneurs of 21st century Pachuca.”

On my way back to Mexico City, I stop for another round of interviews in Tecamac. Upon finishing, I buy some flavoured fried potatoes from a street vendor and share them with my driver on the way back to the capital.

A Final Thought

My brief jaunt through Pachuca is an example of the benefits of briefcasing around the world. I suspect that most visitors to Mexico don’t list Pachuca at the top of their to-do list. Yet just 90 minutes from Mexico City I found myself with a few hours to wander and explore an unexpected history connecting the southwestern corner of England with post-colonial Mexico. I was in Pachuca studying ways to invest to improve access to finance for Mexicans. I found myself exploring another financial story. That of Cornish miners making a fortune rejuvinating old mines, builidng an English clock tower, and enjoying music in a colonial Spanish plaza. If the pursuit is ceaseless, this is why.