OK Computer

So that’s it for a while. The blog will take a small hiatus and will resume with more fun stories at some point down the track. But it would definitely be rude not to have a little shout-outs section to all the people that have made it all so much fun. So here we go:

Of course big respect to my first and still some of my best friends from the trip, Chupis and Elena – mucho gusto chicos. Hi to Sara Sko my Swedish friend, glad you could make it to Oz. Christina and Jamina the great Danes – we are still best friends too, don’t worry. Hi to Steve, easy on the fake sunnies my friend. Jin the hostel keeper in Sapporo – your place was sweet – arigato gozaimasu! Bianca in Breda, Holland – birthplace of DJ Tiesto AND Peter Aerts – keep in touch.  Jane from the UK, hope you found someone to travel north with you. Leo, the only Lebanese traveller I met on the whole trip – enjoy Guatemala friend. Caroline from Austria, thanks for the motion sickness pills, that road to Oaxaca was too windy! Jota the Spaniard and hitch hiking expert. Pier and Simona, your hostel was one of the best ever – hope to see you again soon mes amis. Halel the Israeli surfer and super cool cook – thanks for showing me why not to mess with the Zohan. Tristan and Gustavo enjoy those waves. John and Caleb from Texas – keep out of trouble lads. Delphi and Lindsey in San Cristobal – you are always welcome at my place (or couch). Daniela from Switzerland, hope you felt better in Tulum. Donovan and Nicola from South Africa – thanks for exciting my imagination about Africa and it’s many sights. Michelle and Rosie from Portland – Rosie, thanks for the medicine and Michelle thanks for coming to the cenotes. That was a great day! Daniel, Joaquin, Chelo and Amelia in Tulum at Posada Los Mapaches – you guys are awesome. I’ll come back for a jam sometime and we can reinvent the classics. Oh – and you need to show me which Luchador masks are the good ones Daniel! Aglaia and Charlotte from Germany – if I ever go to Germany I’ll let you know. Agustin el Argentino – hope things at work are all good when you get back. Mucho mucho gusto hermano! And finally, no thanks to Nazar and Dima – you need to chill out a bit guys and enjoy life!

So to all of you I say – I wonder of your whereabouts and hope like hell you’re happy where you are!

If you truly do believe in something, somehow it all works out in the end

As a parting gift, Mexico gave me a beautiful send off - a sunset with low bubbly clouds helping to illuminate the sky in shades of pink, red and yellow. Cool breezes blew over me as I sat on the shore waiting for the light to fade. And as I watched the sun set I thought back over the last few days. I had spent the final days of my stay in Tulum. A small town just south of Cancun. Surrounded by cenotes and right near the bright, aqua waters of the Carribean this place was beautiful. One day we went swimming in the cenotes, which was a completely different experience from the one I had in Merida. These ones were deep, dark caverns that dipped under giant stalagtites and wound their way through narrow caves. An amazing sight. The waters were filled with fish that swam alongside us, while our paths crossed those of divers who had taken the chance to dive deeper into the caverns with flashlights. Eerie shafts of light cut through the dark as the masked divers slipped past.

Tulum’s charm wasn’t limited to its natural beauty however. The hostel I stayed in was in contention for the best of my trip. Run by a whole family who were an amiable and social bunch. The brothers who helped run the place were chilled out entertainers who would help take guests on tours to the cenotes during the day and then jam in the evenings. I joined them for a few of these jam sessions and we invented a reggae version of Guns ‘n’ Roses’s “Don’t Cry” and a jazz remix of Bob Marley’s “Stir it Up”. Their mother was the main cook for the hostel serving up a two course breakfast every morning. Fresh apples, bananas, mangos and watermelon drizzled in coconut yoghurt, often followed by anything from enchiladas to quesadillas. This combination of elements, along with the super cool group of people staying at this place made it an absolute pleasure. My stay ended with me telling the boys’ mum that she has the best hostel in Mexico – after which she planted a big sloppy kiss on my cheek. It was almost like she was my grandmother.

The sights, sounds colours and food of Mexico have completely and utterly charmed me. I have this North American country deeply embedded in my heart and if Japan didn’t exist, I would be hard pressed to top it. The friendly people and their relaxed attitudes always helped me to not take myself too seriously. An undeniably strong spirit runs deep in this country and despite the myriad of problems the country is facing - somehow people manage to take things all in their stride. No pasa nada guay. I think there is nothing else to be said about Mexico except that I will be back. Maybe not soon, but it will happen. There is no doubt.

Mexico – te amo!

This is the best thing that I´ve ever had for real

After painfully dragging myself away from the beach I made the 13 hour bus trip east to San Cristobal de Las Casas. Famous for its Zapatista movements which came to the fore in the early 90s, this place was rich in culture. It was interesting to see the change in the populations ethnicity as I moved further towards the east coast of Mexico. Many more women were traditionally dressed and handicrafts such as woven belts and bracelets were much more widley sold. The Zapatista movement is a large part of the people´s rights in this part of the country and they are obviously well supported – some women at the markets were even selling little Zapatista dolls with balaklavas! San Cristobal itself was an eclectic mix of people ranging from trendy, young punks to dreadlocked hippies. The latter definitely more prominent however. Crooked old buildings lined the narrow one way streets that lead in all directions. And in the afternoons the golden sunlight would drench the pink, green and blue homes before the cold set in. That is one thing I hadn´t taken into account. Due to the altitude the nights were freezing but the days were usually quite pleasant when the sun was out. Each morning I would walk to the nearby bakery to get crossaints and then drink the free coffee provided by the hostel. The other travellers would sit and chat about what they had done the previous day and what their plans for the current day. An excellent way to start the day drinking, eating and getting some good ideas. In regards to what I actually saw here, there wasn´t much. However I did manage to pop out one night and catch a very cool reggae band in a local bar. The funky quintet made for a pleasant nights entertainment with their saxaphonist and trumpet player completely out of control with their solos. Another interesting thing I did was watch a film on the Zapatista which was being screened at the local cinema. For some reason it was still running from a VHS. Nonetheless it was quite informative and gave good insights into the problems facing many locals in the area.

The next stop on my journey was the super impressive ruins of Palenque. Having already climbed the third largest pyramid in the world (brag, brag) I had high expectations. And they were met. The ancient town of Palenque was set amongst the jungles of Chiapas state in eastern Mexico. Dating from the 6th century, these ruins were spread over 15km sq and contained numerous well preserved buildings. The main building that impressed me was a large temple near the centre of the site that had steps rising all the way to the top, some 60 metres up. As I walked through the jungle and ancient buildings I wondered how impressive it would have been in full flight. An amazing show of power for the rulers of the time. The surrounding jungle apparently contained all sorts of weird and wonderful creatures. Toucans, monkeys, ocelots – none of which I saw I might add – but I did hear some. The hostel I was staying at was along the road to the ruins and set against the backdrop of the jungle in small leaf roofed huts. The setting was nice, but the place was completely deserted. I guess that´s what made the strange noises I heard in the middle of the night all the more eerie. The whooping and crying of numerous unidentifiable animals woke me up in the middle of the night and I spent a good hour trying to figure out what they were. I thought they were monkeys, but don´t they sleep at night too? Who knows.

Although the ruins were the best I´ve seen, the township of Palenque wouldn´t make my top 20, so I scooted out of there after seeing what I´d come for. Next stop – Merida. This medium sized city situated in the Yucatan state of Mexico wasn´t really on my list to start off with, but it seemed like a logical step. I arrived and orientated myself by walking around the main town areas. The usual zocalo and plaza areas were just like most towns, but the thing that really caught my eye here was the hostels offer of a trip to the cenotes. Cenotes are underground caverns that are filled with natural fresh water. I noticed a few photos on the hostel wall and thought it´d be a good thing to do. For this trip I was joined by an american girl by the name of Michelle and we set out together to find some cenotes.

Our first mission was to find the bus station. Walking through streets of small tiendas and eateries we ducked down through back alleys and markets until we found our van. Or “collectivo” as they are called here. We hopped on and drove for around an hour until things began to look very, very country. At last we stopped at a small and dusty town where bicycle taxis lined up outside the collectivo stop. We were instantly asked if we wanted to see cenotes and hooked ourselves up with a rider that took us up the long, hot road. Dry, spindly trees flanked the dusty, semi-sealed road and I have to admit that the scenery didn´t seem as though it was hiding what we were about to see. After our bicycle taxi we were then told that we needed to take a horse and cart. What? A mexican guy looked at us and nonchalantly motioned towards the waiting cart that was placed on old, rickety rails. The cart had a plastic roof cover to protect us from the sun and two small bench seats with enough space for 4 (small) people. Our driver kitted up our horse and within a few minutes were were on our way down a dusty, old track through the yucatan scrub. Iguanas lazing in the sun quickly dashed from the tracks as the noisy, old cart made its way towards the cenotes. After 20 minutes or so we stopped and were pointed by our driver in the general direction. A few other tourist could be seen as we approched, climbing down a ladder into the ground – I wasn´t sure what to expect. We followed the herd and found ourselves climbing down a very tall ladder into the ground where a gigantic underground cavern was. The cavern ceiling would have been at least 20 feet high and the diameter would have been a similar distance. It was truly mind-blowing to discover this strange place below the earth´s surface. At the bottom of the ladder was a small platform leading out over the water that filled the bottom half of this impressive underground cave. The water was a beautiful light blue colour with shafts of light from cracks in the ceiling turning a brilliant azure as they sliced the crystal clear water. These incredible fresh water cenotes were a welcome change from the harsh scrub and heat above and we immediately dived in for a swim. The cool, turquoise waters had outstanding visibility and the temperature was just perfect. So Michelle and I spent the afternoon swimming and diving off the platforms until the surreal illusion of swimming in underground caves in the mexican countryside faded. We dried off, got back on our horse and cart and made our way home – utterly satisfied with our days inland swimming experience. And I must admit that it was one of the best things I have seen thus far.

What will Mexico give me next? I don´t know – but I´m excited to find out!

Where is the love?

It finally happened! I got robbed! It wasn´t like I got held up in the street though. It wasn´t even an overnight bus ride gone wrong. I had my stuff in my locker, in a hostel and then all of a sudden 600 pesos disappeared. I have my suspicions that it was some filthy traveller that had seen me get money out of there. Anyway, I have learnt my lesson and this will only make me strive harder to perfect the arts of concealment. Not unlike the humble ninja.

Eat it. Just eat it.

The mandatory food blog. It has been a long time coming and I think it´s long overdue. Famed worldwide for it´s spices, tacos, flavours and colours – I would have to say that Mexican food exceeds its reputation. Since arriving I have been treated to a veritable smorgasboard of gastronomic experiences ranging from the mundane to the extraordinary.

One staple of the Mexican diet is the tortilla. Made from corn, this flat, round bread has been corrupted and replicated worldwide under numerous different guises. Served with breakfast, lunch or dinner – this side dish has been something I have come to love. My breakfasts in general have ranged from huevos rancheros (fried eggs with beans) to mexican omlettes to tacos. But when I say tacos – I mean real tacos. The vile corruption of this popular dish that is served in Australia is far from the delicious reality. Made in varieties of beef, chorizo, chicken or my personal favourite – alambre (beef with spiced capsicum, onions, bacon and cheese) – these tasty treats are available at almost any time after 10am. The taco itself is a floppy, flat bread which is then filled with the afore mentioned ingredients – as opposed to the clumsy, yellow, crunchy “tacos” that we are used to. The ones that tend to shatter when bitten and then stab the inside of your mouth.

As a side note to the tacos and tortillas part of this post I´d like to single out pescadillas for a notable mention. Pescadillas are fish tacos that have been folded and fried with fillets of fresh fish and tomato and are served with green salsa and fresh lime. Another staple of my Puerto Escondido stay.

And how could I forget Chiles Rellenos? Simply translated it means “restuffed chiles” but they are so much more than that. The capsicums, or chiles, have been hollowed out and refilled with a delightful mixture of fried onions, tomatoes, spices and chicken. They are then lightly battered and fried until golden. For me they are VERY close to the top of the list!

The torta is a Mexican phenomenon as well. Somehow this dish hasn´t managed to break into the western mainstream and I am a little puzzled as to why not. The torta by definition is pretty much a bread roll with vegetables and meat, but it is the Mexicanisation (is that a word?) of this common theme that makes all the difference. The bread must be super fresh. Anything less and it will draw from the textures and the experience. The beef, chicken or ham filling is cooked and accompanied by frijoles, guacamole, cheese, salsa (red or green), onions and then lightly toasted and served with your choice of chili sauce. The best one I had even contained mayonnaise and garlic spiced beef. Quesadillas are not uncommon in most areas as well. Thin tacos, folded and toasted with cheese, onions and occasionally meat are served with a piquant, red sauce. The perfect condiment for most Mexican dishes.

Delving into the more adventurous dishes I have also tried Oaxaca´s chapulinas. These small insects that have been salted and deep fried are abundant within Oaxaca city and are often sold from deep sacks by street vendors. I managed to force a few down, but I have to admit that they wont be replacing popcorn any time soon. Another speciality in the state of Oaxaca is their mole. This sauce is apparently a concoction that was created when the conquistadors arrived in Mexico. Wanting to make something out of all their amazing finds in Mexico, the spaniards set about mixing all the ingredients together. The result is a sauce made from chocolate, chilli and numerous other spices which has become common and is often served with meat, chicken and even in tomales.

And of course in addition to all of this there are the street markets that sell everything from corn on a stick to hot dogs to chilli lollipops. Juice and smoothie bars are abundant and often serve delicious, tall smoothies. My favourite thus far is the muesli one which is filled with muesli, milk, honey, banana and ice cream – it´s kind of like a breakfast shake.

Before I arrived some people said that I would get sick of Mexican food pretty quick. But after two weeks I still get a little bit excited at meal times.

It´s just another day for you and me in Paradise

So there is a Welsh surfer, an Israeli surfer and an Irish surfer. It sounded like the start of a bad joke to me too when I first met them.

After a whirlwind tour of Xalapa, Puebla and Oaxaca city in a blur of colourful houses, mole and chapulinas – I managed to make my way to the beautiful coastal town of Puerto Escondido. From Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido there were two ways to travel. One was via the first class bus – but that took 10 hours. The other was in a minivan, which took only 6 hours. My logic told me that I didn´t like buses as much as I liked planes so I decided upon the minivan. Little did I know I was going for a ride down a road that weaved in and out of mountains, up and down hills and through nearly every other type of terrain imaginable. Within 2 hours of starting I felt like I was going to vomit from the g force being hurled at my brittle body as we swerved around endless corners at break-neck speed. The driver seemed unphased about overtaking on blind corners and cruising at speeds well above the limit – all the while relaxing with one hand on the wheel and mexican mariachi music blaring from the stereo. The scenery I managed to catch in between deep breaths was beautiful and it slowly changed from high mountains to low coastal vegetation. Not unlike the Solomons.

Finally arriving with my innards like a smoothie and brain hurting from the constant dizzyness of the last 5 hours, I was very, very pleasantly surprised. The hostel I was looking for was away from the main touristy areas on a much more obscure stretch of beach. As I walked in I was greeted by the owner, Pier – a Frenchman who ran the hostel with his Italian wife Simona. His warm smile and friendly nature made me feel a bit better and he instantly went through the formalities with me. He showed me where the bathrooms and dormitories were, we organised the length of my stay and then he asked me to put a pin on the map where I was from. I told him that my mother was Australian and my father was from the Solomon Islands. This delighted Pier no end. He was visibly over the moon to have his very first Solomon Island backpacker stay and he told me excitedly that I was nation number 93 to visit his hostel. And because I was the first one from the Solomons, I was entitled to a free beer. Just what every Solomon Islander wants to hear! The hostel itself was a beautiful laid back mixture of free standing huts, hammocks, tents and dormitories. The “common room” was a large sandy area that opened directly onto the beach with deck chairs and shade huts facing out to the ocean. Coconut trees lined the shore and provided ample shade – not that an of the european visitors seemed to know what shade was for. Now I´m an islander and I have seen my fair share of nice places, but as a hostel, for which I was paying the equivalent of $8 Australian per night – this was paradise. The crowd that this place had seemed to attact was a mixture of surfers and wandering backpackers from all parts of the world. Israelis, Germans, Norwegians, Swiss, Dutch, Canadians and Australians. And as I soon learned, I wasn´t the only one that had fallen in love with this part of Puerto Escondido. I originally planned to stay for three nights but ended up staying for five. Most people had been there for at least five days with some even staying over a month! The vibe was relaxed and most days were spent by a mixture of reading, napping, swimming and chatting to new friends. I would occasionally duck over to the shop across the street for a fresh fruit smoothie or a beef and vegetable torta – but apart from that the days were lazy. Each night we would grab a beer and head down to the beach front to watch the sun set. Each night was different but all were as amazing as each other. Usually the large orange orb would sink slowly over the horizon, gently changing the colours of the sky to shades of pink, purple and light blue before melting into the sea in an intense firey finale. It was then followed by a pleasant summer night with clear skies exposing the thousands of bright stars, clearly visible due to the lack of city lights above the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Of all the things that made this place amazingly cool – including a super friendly group of people, great sunsets, tasty food and an excellent location – the thing that really blew my mind was Piers presentation on the stars and constellations. One night, after most people had gone to bed, Pier popped up from nowhere with a small laser pointer in his hand. Unbeknownst to me, this thing could apparently point for up to 8km. After a little chat he slowly began to talk about the stars and the different constellations. He then proceeded to point out which stars he was talking about with a laser that seemed to go on forever. The bright green pointer was like a gigantic teachers rule which he ran from right to left – all the while explaining to his audience of 4 where the stars had come from and which ones were which. The thing that made this all the more impressive was that he would expertly switch from spanish to italian to tell the story – as those languages were mutually exclusive within the group of onlookers. After a telling us everything from “the light we see from these stars is actually coming from a dead planet” to “you can only see 7600 stars at any one time” I was mentally exhausted but completely mindblown at his knowledge and language skills.

All in all Puerto Escondido was an excellent part of this trip. Nice and relaxing, but also a very interesting place to meet people and make new friends. Which I think is at least 40% of travelling as far as I´m concerned. I am currently in San Cristobal de Las Casas after taking the epic 13 hour bus ride to the eastern part of Mexico. It has a tendency to get quite cold here due to the altitude, but I think it´s nice to get a bit of variety now and again and the surrounding mountainous areas are supposed to be very beautiful.

Oh – and sorry about the photos situation – Mexico currently doesn´t have the internet speed I need to get them up in any sort of reasonable time. So for now you will have to settle for words and words alone.

Oh, think twice

To whom it may concern.

I have been trapped on the beach in Puerto Escondido for the past three days with limited internet access. But I think I like it. When watching blazing red and pink sunsets, drinking cold beers and playing beach volleyball are your “commitments” for the day – you know you´re somewhere good. I will write again if I ever escape from here. But for now, it´s time for a swim and some fish tacos.

¡Hast luego!

Do you want to go to the seaside?

So South America has a reputation for partying? Yeah - that´s no lie. Last night`s Carnival in Veracruz was testament to that.

As I boarded the bus from nearby Jalapa I was wondering what I should expect. I had some idea, seeing as though I was staying in Japala, a 2 hour bus ride from Veracruz, because there was no accommodation available there. Always the sign of a big party. After the quick trip to Veracruz I jumped off the bus and was greeted by surprisingly warm weather. The dusty, bustling roads of Veracruz were alive with taxis, buses and cars all adding to busy Carnaval atmosphere. After blindly catching a bus in the direction I hoped would be hosting the party I managed to stumble across the main town centre. From there I found the main drag for the evenings proceedings. For those of you reading this that don´t know what a Carnaval is then just imagine the Adelaide christmas pageant. But with much sexier floats, better music, less children and hot salsa dancers.

By 3pm the place was absolutely heaving with people. Food vendors using wheelbarrows as transport strolled from point to point, enticing patrons with their colourful displays of lollies and nuts. Beer vendors lugged large buckets of ice containing long cans of ice cold Sol, while other stands sold oversized plastic bottles of beer that looked as though they held a good two litres. Basically – it was party time long before the floats arrived. As I milled about the place grazing on the delicious party foods – hot dogs wrapped in bacon then served with onions, tomatoes, mayonnaise, mustard and chilli – I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people there were. I must have walked for at least a good 45 minutes without seeing the same thing twice! The main route for the nights parade was sandwiched between stands and seats for the spectators and wound its way down the shoreline. During the day makeshift scaffolding acted as platforms for dancing girls and MCs. By the time night fell and the official party had started, people were more than ready to go. The first floats that arrived contained salsa dancers with elaborate head dresses, dancing wildly to the beat of the accompanying band. Their colourful sequinned clothing shimmering in the dim street light. This was followed by a procession of marching bands, kids floats, more salsa dancers, navy bands and pretty much anything else you could think of. Large paper mache heads and ornaments adorned the never ending parade of beauty pageant ladies, children and dancers - all waving as though they were the proud winners of something. The crowd was without doubt, the most raucous and animated of any I have encountered – shouting and screaming, cheering and whooping at every single float or group that passed. However, sadly, only a few hours into the festivities it was time for me to go. My bus was leaving at 10pm and if I didn´t make that one I´d turn into a pumpkin. I had wisely said adios to my two amigas that I had made during the day and then made my way towards the station. As I started on my walk down the main road beside the floats I dodged trombone players and cross-dressers, braving death by confetti to find a way out. But the further I walked, the more I realised that it was going to take a miracle to make it to the end of this giant happiness serpent. The crowd raged on as I walked faster and faster. Dancing girls flew by in a blur of sequins as I looked for an exit amongst the literally tens of thousands of onlookers. After being refused exit at a couple of points I managed to duck down past a designted pissing area and scale a fence to jump over the back onto the road. I flagged down a taxi and made my way back to the station. And as I sat on the bus headed back to the hostel I brushed the glitter from my hair and realised that I had just experienced partying - Mexican style!

Does it sound like I`m enjoying myself yet?

We are old enough! Let us drink cervezas!

After the harrowing boredom of Los Angeles, Mexico City is just what I needed. Flying in, this vast megalopolis could be viewed for what it really is. A sprawling city that makes LA look like a country town. Low, flat sheets of buildings spread all the way to the horizon – at least to where the horizon should have been. Thick clouds of smog obscured the line between the earth and the sky creating the illusion that this place really does go on forever. Before arriving I had spoken with my mexican friends I met in Vietnam and they had organised for someone to pick me up. The lovely Paulina greeted me and we set off into the concrete jungle. Despite my expectations, the neighbourhoods we passed through were not nearly as dirty as I was expecting and the temperature was warm, but not unbearable. I spent the better part of the trip trying to make small talk in Spanish which was a little nerve wracking at first. I just realised that it has been five years since I last studied it so I was a little out of my depth. Nonetheless, Paulina and her companion Jose were more than friendly enough to let me bumble my way through conversations about music and travel. It wasn`t until about 2 hours later during a difficult part of the conversation that one of them came out with a whole heap of fluent english to explain their point. Haha.

The next day it was time to cruise. Pack on back, feet in jandalls, camera in hand I set out to see sights. I walked briskly through the main square passing the gigantic Zocalo, a massive Spanish cathedral in the middle of the old city centre. Green VW taxis whizzed passed like coconut beetles while spruikers tried their best to promote their shops. Street stalls stood draped in the daily newspapers – over saturated with graphic images of drug traffickers shot dead in the streets. Each day the front page is adorned with a different murder. Overzealous, young lovers kissed passionately in secluded corners while breakdancers put their skills on show. As I entered the subway I felt as though every last one of the 18 million people that live in this city were right there with me. Shotgun wielding policemen stood on platforms, overseeing the daily activities. All part of the war on drugs I guess. My destination today was the famous Teotihuacan - the pyramids and surrounding complex of a formerly great empire. A few trains and a bus later I was walking towards the historic site. Bypassing the hawkers surrounding the entrance I wandered through the front gates and there, rising up in front of me like Pamela Anderson´s breasts, were the giant pyramids of the sun and moon. The sun beat down as I tried my hardest to avoid the the incessant salesmen on my walk around the complex. The near vertical stairways that lead up the side of the pyramid took the wind out of me. Either that or it was the pollution at that altitude that was making me dizzy. These insane structures were the work of the Mexica people in the central areas and were mindblowing to see. Once again I`m sure my photos don`t do it justice. The views of the surrounding buildings were a site to behold from the top and the sheer scale of these huge temples made me feel very, very insignificant.

So with the first big tourist attraction out of the way and a burnt, red face from my stubborn resistance to buying anything at all from the hawkers (even if I needed that damn hat!) I headed back into town. And as I exited the subway station I noticed that I had been treated to two more Mexican specialties. The first was an indigenous demonstration. Apparently the indigenous people from this area have their own little ceremonies a few times a week. They contain singing, traditional dress, dancing, smoking and music. It was great to see some local culture juxtaposed with the urban landscape of the Plaza de la Constitucion. Apparently these dances had been banned by Spanish colonialists, which forced the native people to incorporate elements of christianity into them – just so they could continue doing them. Nowdays though people tend to refute the fact that there are any christian elements and do them simply to raise awareness.

The second speciality I was treated to was a good old Mexican style political protest! Over the native drumming came the sound of raised voices, chanting a mantra against the government. A huge swarm of people holding signs portraying a political leader as hitler headed into the square shouting and screaming. I kept my distance after reading about the 1968 riots before the Olympics where the police shot 400 people dead. They carry shotguns in the subway here so I can only imagine the kind of heavy artillery they have at the ready for protesters. But, after telling a few people about my protest viewing, I learnt that apparently they have one every day in that square. Aww…I thought I`d seen something special!

In amongst the protests, dead drug dealers, pyramids and friend making, I have had some other cool experiences too. Not least of all was the mezcaliria. Mezcal is a drink that is apparently gaining Tequlia-like recognition down in these parts. To the undistiguished palette (mine) it just tastes like Tequila. But the main thing is that you drink it a little slower. You sip it like a beer rather than shooting it down. Paulina took me out to meet some of her other friends at a mezcaleria where they were having a 2 for 1 special. Which worked out to be around $1.50 Australian per drink. Oh dear. As the mezcals flowed, so did the conversation. It was great to be able to sit in a group of people my own age and have a chat in spanish about what I`m up to and hear stories about their lives as well. It was like being with my own friends but everything was in spanish. Amazingly I can understand a lot more that I previously thought. I often get the jokes and can keep up with the stories – the difficulty really comes in when I have to explain something that contains lots of different tenses. But nonetheless, when we hang out in large groups everybody just speaks to me in spanish – which I really love.

Mexico City is great. Sure there are dangerous areas, but like with any city if you don`t go to the bad parts of town, you don`t get in trouble. Simple as that. I`m not sure I would like to live here but it is a great experience to see yet another one of the world`s largest cities. So today I move on to Xalapa, east of Mexico City. The small town is just a stones throw away from the coastal city of Veracruz which is currently hosting the Mexican Carnival. Fabled as the third biggest in the world behind Rio and somewhere else, I see no reason not to heaad out there for some salsa, tequila and sunshine on the beach. Adelante!

It’s only forever…

Please don’t mind the random artwork images that have appeared in the photos. They are there because I have just launched my new website! The official URL is nathanlovesdesign.com. It took me forever but it’s finally up. I figured that the amount of Tequila I would be drinking in Mexico would cost me my work ethic, so being the amazingly organised planner that I am – here’s one that I prepared earlier. Enjoy.