On Wednesday Beatriz and I went to Castillo Chapultepec, which is an old castle situated in the park, on a hilltop so that it gives views over the city. The views were awesome but the photos never really captured how good they were. It was enjoyable to walk around but I wasn't overly captivated by the rooms etc, and because my Spanish isn't great I didn't really have the chance to learn much either. I'm glad I went though.
[Above, left]: The gardens inside the castle were pretty impressive, like something out of Alice in Wonderland. Not ideal for playing football in though.
[Above, right]: Here I am, not looking at all like a tourist, holding a stupid pose.
On Wednesday I also went to the gym. I know that is a bit of a lame thing to do when you're supposed to be on holiday, but I miss not going, and the idea of going skinny or fat whilst I'm here is not appealing. The gym was pretty awesome, if a bit run down, and only cost a couple of quid. The downside was that there was no water dispenser and I didn't have my own bottle. Oh well.
That evening, the plan was to head for a night out (up to this point, I've had a lot of fun, but haven't actually had a proper 'night out'). I met up with Beatriz, both Whitneys and Rafa (from Cuba) at a restaurant first. I had some Chicken, which was nice enough but after we left I was a little concerned that my stomach wasn't feeling great. Probably just paranoia mixed with indigestion.
We end up going to the Mojito bar which James and I had been to, albeit antisocially, last week. Beatriz and I had a go at joining in the salsa dancing, and at one point they were even teaching some steps. I thought this would be an ideal way to improve but alas, it was just too difficult. I'd be just about getting to grips with one or two steps and suddenly there would be this crazy move than I can only describe as "turning around". That, unfortunately, is not yet part of my repetoire, so I sat down and had some tequila.
We left the Mojito bar and the night started to drag. We tried another place with live music, but I was starting to feel a bit tired, and still a bit bloated from dinner. In the end we went back to the hostel, my first big night coming to a close at half-past midnight and after one solitary drink. I stayed up for a little longer but was starting to feel a bit sick, which quickly morphed into ridiculous fatigue. It was soon obvious that I wasn't well. I'll spare you the details. I went to bed hoping that I would be ok in the morning.
I wasn't. I spent pretty much all day in my room, and in bed on Thursday. My only trip out was to the Pharmacy in the evening, to load up on any kind of tablets which would speed my recovery. By Thursday night I was feeling a little better but hardly got any sleep because I was getting terrible stomach cramps all night (this may not have been helped by the fact I had my first gym workout in a month the day before).
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| Just after I had unsuspectingly polished off the piece of chicken which would sideline me for the rest of the week... |
Friday I was still in pain, and also very tired due to the lack of sleep, so again spent most of the day hanging around the hostel. I was in a bit of a better mood though, and an afternoon nap made sure I was ok to meet up with Makocha's cousins at the Hippodrome that evening for some horse racing.
My temporary Mexican mobile has conveniently decided to switch network lines and I have no idea how to switch it back. The superb by-product of this being that I am no longer able to make calls. This is extremely annoying when you're trying to meet up with people and haven't got a clue where you're going.
I would have arrived at the hippodrome on time, but the taxi driver was a bit of an idiot. It seems that most cab drivers don't really know where anywhere is, and I normally end up having to supply a map for the journey. My conversation on this occasion went a little like this (translated into English, although the original was in Spanish):
Before getting into the taxi (the hostel manager had already informed the driver where I wanted to go):
Me: "The Hippodrome de las Americas?"
Driver: "Yes"
Me: "On 'Conscripto Avenue', yes?"
Driver: "Yes"
30 minutes later, we are on Conscripto and have been going along it for a while. I feel like we should have arrived by now, and am now a few minutes late.
Me: "From here, how long will it be, two minutes?"
Driver: "Well this is Conscripto, but I don't where you want to go"
Me: "The Hippodrome?!"
Driver: "Ohhh, that's back there, on the other side of the roundabout!"
This, coupled with the fact that when I arrived, I didn't have a clue where to go and there were absolutely no instructions as how to reach the stand, made me extremely annoyed. However, I got there in the end.
I bet on three races, won on the second of three, and came extremely close to winning on the third as well (you could either bet on the top three, or specify the order. I decided to take a risk and predict the order of 6-2-4 and it finished 6-4-2...). Now, I'm not the sort of person who revels in victory, especially when there is cash at stake, but it was nice to have some success to go with a fun evening.
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| Hipodromo de las Americas |
I am now back in Sayavedra. It is nice to be in the comfort of a proper house, particularly at the moment when I still don't feel 100%. Hopefully the next blog update will see me feeling better and having a few more things to report!
Twig
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