South of Mexico City, in the city of Puebla, is Cholula, the largest pyramid, by volume, of any in the world.  The reason that not many people have heard of it is that most of it remains unexcavated, in fact, to see it in person can be something of an anticlimax since only one corner shows.  I didn’t know this on the day I traveled out to see it, but even knowing what I do know, would still recommend it as a fun day trip and interesting cultural destination.

By now I was down to just seven ruins out of twenty-five in total, and it occurred to me that I had yet to pick the one that had started me on my rune journey the year before.  The rune I’d picked at a Halloween party the year before had been Wyrd, the blank one, or that of destiny, and Ruth had told me it was the best one.  Now I wondered about it, still floating around with the six others, thinking wouldn’t that be wild if it was the last rune I picked, but not even going there since the odds were incredibly slim that it would play out that way. 

The one I picked on this morning was Hagalaz, or that of disruption, which didn’t bode well on a travel day.  There was supposed to be a train that went to the pyramid, but even though I set my alarm and got up early, found it was a long walk to the station, and then couldn’t find where the train left from when I got there.  Someone told me there was a bus that left every few minutes, so I tracked that down.

I was the first one on the bus, and it took about ten minutes to leave the station.  We drove for about fifteen minutes and then the driver dropped me off on a busy street and pointed to the corner.  Jutting over the buildings, I could see a hilltop church in the distance.  I walked towards it and after five or six blocks came to some train tracks that I followed.  When I reached the station, I was informed that there was a free train returning to the city in fifty minutes, but then it would be a few hours until the next one.  For some reason I saw this as a challenge and started to hurry.

There were supposed to be some tunnels to visit, but they had been closed due to COVID.  There were the ruins themselves, and then there was the church that the Spanish had built on top of the temple, the Iglesia de Nuestra Senora de los Remedios.  Still thinking I might catch the next train back to the city, I rushed up the hill to it and got winded in the process.  The chapel was as ornately decorated as a little jewel box.  I circled around it, stopped a few seconds at the scenic overlook of the city, in front of a cross and two angels atop a flight of stairs, then hurried down the ramp towards the ruins, my toes already pinched up in my shoes.

When I saw the pyramid, I thought there has to be more than that, but there wasn’t.  The entrance was on the far side of it, a long walk that led me through a park with an exercise trail.  On the way I passed a plaza with a large sign that said SAN PEDRO CHOLULA, yellow on top, blue on the bottom, tourists standing in line to take a photo with it.  About half way around the park, I realized that I wouldn’t be making it back to the train in time, so slowed my frantic pace to a resigned shuffle.

The ruins were a heap of black and grey rubble.  In front of a stairway was a round head with a wide-open mouth that looked like Mr. Bill.  Next to it was a stelae that looked like it was carved the day before.  The problem with many ruins is that they need to be spiced up to make them interesting.  They need to have a few sculptures or mosaics that lend themselves to a story, at least a pillar or two, to distinguish them from any other pile of rocks. 

The portion of the pyramid of Cholula that was visible looked more like it had been recently constructed than excavated.  It would be interesting to see what was left of it under the hill.  I took out the rune, Hagalaz, and took a picture of it there.  It hadn’t been an easy day so far, but it could’ve been much worse.  Even if I hadn’t been able to climb the pyramids, I’d at least been able to see them.