My first days in Distrito Federal

Thursday evening Makocha & I went to her friend's (Israel) house round the corner in Sayavedra. As Carlos and Israel argued back and forth about which music should be played, I was quite content drinking my Tequila amongst the throws of Incubus, Annie Lennox, Metallica and Whitesnake. Then Israel made some tacos, and Makocha told me I HAD to have salsa. So I did. Following her instructions of 'just a little bit', I sprinkled less than a spoonful of this delightful salsa over my steak tortilla. In doing so, I also got a tiny droplet on my finger, so sucked it off. This tiny droplet promptly blew my head off. Putting on a brave face, I said "yeah, this is good stuff, I'm totally fine", wondering how I was going to tackle the currently untouched burning fireball of a taco before me. I gave it a go, but in the end Carlos was good enough to insist on taking it off me in exchange for a salsa-less one. Lesson learned. I think....

I also realised that in the evenings, Mexico City gets unbelievably cold. Most of my clothing is T-Shirts and Shorts. Mum, if you're reading this, I know my response to the question "Are you sure you don't want to get one of these fleeces, it might get cold?" was "Mum, it's not going to be THAT cold, I'll be fine". Yes, well I was wrong, and I have since had to buy a hoodie at the Shopping Centre. Fortunately, they have a Zara here, so I have managed to keep up the tradition of buying all my clothes there despite being half way round the world.

The next day I visited 'Chapultepec', the biggest park in Mexico City. I spent most of my day at the Museo Antropologia. A lot of the information was in Spanish only, so I wasn't really (I tried, but reading passages of human history when each word takes about 20 seconds of processing is tiring) able to digest that much. But some of the models were pretty cool (see picture). I spent a fair bit of time just sitting in the sun. Obviously I didn't apply suncream in the morning, because that's not how I roll. Cue a red face (literally and metaphorically) in the evening. Lesson 2 (probably not) learned.

At one point I was approached by about 10 girls who asked if I was English, and then wanted a photo with me. I have no idea why, and can only assume that my pasty skin and unmexican dress sense made it obvious where I was from.  The girls seemed to be on some sort of school trip so must have been about 15. I can think of at least one friend who would be delighted at such an encounter, but unfortunately from my own perspective, I only fancied a couple of them.

In the middle of the museum there was a pond. There must have been about 50 turtles in it. At first I thought they were models because there were so many, and they were so lifeless. They're pretty cool though, so I took a picture.

That evening Makocha had a job interview so we drove there after she picked me up from the museum. The roads in Mexico City are quite stressful... I certainly won't be driving anywhere soon. The interview was next to an american style diner so I had a couple of beers at the bar and waited for Makocha. I suppose I could have tried to make conversation with people, but I wasn't really in the mood. After quite a while looking at the menu as something to pass the time, I decided to bite the bullet and.... put in my headphones so I could listen to some Karl Pilkington. Not sure if anyone noticed me grinning and occasionally chuckling into my glass, but they could not have possibly known that I was listening to "tic tacs tinging their way up the tube".

The next day, I visited the shopping centre to buy the aforementioned jumper. It was a nice shopping centre, but to be honest it could be anywhere, as the shops are pretty much identical to the ones you'd see in English 'malls'. I find that a bit of a shame, but at the same time it makes life quite easy. A bit like how most convenience stores in England are fast becoming mini Tescos or Sainsburys... more selection, cheaper prices, but somehow a bit too efficient and soulless than good old Misslebrook & Western. During my browsing of one of the sports shops, I saw a girl trying on a pink Ben Roethlisberger American Football jersey... it didn't seem right, but unfortunately I didn't possess the necessary Spanish vocabulary to explain to her why she should choose somebody else.

In the evening I went with Makocha and Alonso to Coyoacan, a small bohemian area of Mexico City, focused around a small square, with bustling stalls along the side streets. We ate in a 'Cantina', a traditional Taverna-type place, and later devoured some Churros on the way home. We stumbled upon a modern art exhibition, being held in the upstairs of an unusual shop. I got chatting to the man who ran the shop, who had lived in Islington, Guildford, Cologne, Dusseldorf, Anecy, Barcelona and the Canary Islands. Strangely, the element of England which he was a big fan of was.... the Police. He followed this up with a saying that "in Heaven, the Cooks are French, the Mechanics German, the Lovers Italian, Hoteliers Swiss and the Police are English. In Hell, the Cooks are English, the Mechanics Italian, Lovers are Swiss, Hotliers are French and the Police are German". I considered analysing this and making corrections/criticisms, but I could see what he was getting at.

On my escapades I have noticed some attractive girls passing me by. However, I have also noticed that they are nearly always holding hands with either a boyfriend, a parent or a child. None of which are ideal. Otherwise of course, I'd be straight over to have a little chat 'en espanol' about topics such as "rainfall in the UK".

And finally, today I have just been chilling out at Makocha's house. Checking the League One and the NFL results (good news all round), researching hostels because I think I'm going to be staying at some this week, and typing this mammoth blog. Hope you made it this far too!

Twig