I was bitten by a tiger...

No word of a lie. Not many people have survived such horrific ordeals, but luckily I am something of a warrior, a gladiator you might say, so I have lived to fight another day. More on this later though.

As promised, here is an update from Puerto Vallarta, on the coast of Mexico directly west of Guadalajara. The bus took longer than expected and I finally arrived at 12:30 on Saturday night. I decided to come to Vallarta on Saturday because Guadalajara, as mentioned in the previous post, hadn't lived up to expectations, and at least this way I knew I could spend Sunday on the beach. There was still time on Saturday however, to meet up with Kelsey and Jenny, who I had met at the Tequila Hostel, for a drink at La Cantina. There were a couple of other girls with them, and two Mexican guys who they didn't know at all. The men in Mexico generally live up to their unpologetically sleazy stereotype, and it should also be noted that they are on the whole, quite short. It makes a welcome change to look around and recognise that I am one of the taller people around.

On Monday I met Kelsey and Jenny again, we had an awesome seafood lunch at Las Ocho Tostadas (a place with Suha had recommended) and then went to their hotel which was right on the beach. Unfortunately the weather was cloudy. Unbelievable. I've been in Mexico for 6 weeks and seen about 30 minutes of rain and no more than two or three overcast days during that time, and now my first day of proper sunbathing is met by a permanent grey roof. I wanted to have a tantrum, but in the end thought better of it. Instead, we sat in the hotel jacuzzi for about 3 hours, which was nice. Hopefully the staff there will be able to fix the 'bubble jet' appliance which I somehow managed to kick off the bottom of the pool. To be fair, I was under the influence; It was 2-for-1 cocktails, so I ordered two, but promptly received four. And had to pay for them. So really any damage done to the jacuzzi is a result of poor waiter skills rather than my own incompetence.

At 6:30pm, we went back out onto the beach because they were releasing the baby turtles. I got to hold one, before eventually letting him go at the seafront. He seemed to reflect my own traits of being cool but rude, so naturally I named him Raphael. As I started giving him my motivational talk about getting to the sea before any of the other 30 turtles (or "rivals"), I wondered if I should have perhaps christened him "Usain" instead. Nevertheless, Raphael did a good job and although the initial waves lapping the shore hindered his progress, he eventually found his feet, and made it to the sea in (joint) first place. I was very proud and was tempted to do a parade lap of the beach shouting "cowabunga!"



When I first met my little turtle (just hatched)





Raphael, post-motivatonal 'teamtalk'





It was an awesome way to finish the afternoon, and later we headed to a couple of bars. When we reached the second, the doorman first asked us where we were from before letting us in. Unsurprisingly, there weren't many Mexican people in this club. Vallarta is a lot more touristy than I had imagined (although I knew it would be to an extent). Some places remind me of bars in the Costa del Sol, with the main difference being that middle-aged Brits are middle-aged Yanks over here.

On Monday I had a fairly relaxed day, just spent a few hours on the beach. My hostel, Vallarta Sun, initially hadn't impressed me, but the people who run the hostel were really friendly and I decided to stay a bit longer to see how it worked out. I think in terms of room comfort etc, I may have been spoilt at Tequila and Hostel 333. When I was with Whitney in Guadalajara, she told me about her stay in the same Vallarta hostel a week earlier, and mentioned an old guy who is always on the computer, and who paces back and forth when you are using it. George, from the US, is still here even as I write this, and it is a bit annoying. I think he makes all the guests feel a little bit on edge. If it wasn't so irritating, it would probably be amusing. Here are some of the high- (or low-) lights:

- I get back from a club at 5am only to find that George is still up using the internet.

- He traps various guests into conversations they're not really interested in, but equally can't escape from. Over the past couple of days, I think I may have emerged as his favourite victim.

- On hearing that there is going to be a gay parade (Vallarta is the Mexican gay capital apparently. Obviously why I decided to come here, ha ha), George pipes up with "I tend to tell them that I'm trisexual, let them figure that one out". Ummmmmmmmm......... animals?

- He 'trapped' me the other day looking at a map (Elliot can testify that I can spend long periods of the evening staring at maps of the world), and when I mentioned going to the Caribbean, he started singing some old American folk song about Barbados. After the first two lines, he asked me if I knew it. Thinking that "No I don't" would suffice to shut him up was clearly an error, as he then proceeded to sing about three verses of the damn thing. I stood silently staring at the map, cursing myself for not scurrying into my room straight away, rather than pausing en-route to examine which countries lay on the equator (because that's the sort of crazy shit I think about).

Anyway, the following day I headed to Mismaloya. I got the bus with Sebastien, a PhD student from Dortmund, although he got off at a previous stop. I was going to the Zoo! As I have written lots about my previous Zoo trips, I will try and keep the generic descriptions down, but I have to attach some photos because... well, you'll see:

Ahhhh little Jaguar!

Ahhhh little Tiger!

As you may have cottoned on by now, the tiger that bit me was only 1 month old and its teeth weren't big or sharp enough to actually cause any flesh wounds. Both cubs (the Jaguar was three months old, so a little stronger) were still quite playful-verging on-aggressive though, at one point I thought the baby tiger might tear my shorts to pieces. On my walk around I also had a bag of food, which the Zoo provide. There are strict instructions on what food you can feed to which animals. It certainly made them more interested in me though. Recipients included the Brown Bear, Hippo, Giraffe, Parrot and Guinea Pigs. I got some cool shots of these too.



It got pretty close at one point, I was a little bit scared



Not really sure what to say about this one...



On Thursday a few of us (Greg & Hugo from France, Sebastien, Justine from Canada and Ollie from Australia) from the hostel hired a boat and we went to a beach called Yelapa. Even though Puerto Vallarta has its own beaches which I have been to, some of the nicest ones are a little further south (a 15 minute bus ride, or 30 minutes by boat). As well as Yelapa, I have been to Las Gemelas and Las Animas. On this boat trip we also stopped along the way to do some fishing. We each caught a fish and took them back to the hostel for dinner that evening, was pretty cool to be able to do that. The boat captain also caught a jellyfish and we passed it around. It didn't feel overly slimey until I passed it on and realised my hands were covered in gunk. On the way back from Yelapa I saw a Dolphin in the distance (maybe 100 yards away), but unfortunately we weren't able to get any closer sightings. I've realised that I don't like swimming in the sea... I think it's because the unknown waters, big fish, and jellyfish panic me somewhat. Even snorkelling in Greece unnerved me a bit and the fish there were tiny. I guess I'm a total pussy and should just get over it.



Puerto Vallarta Beach at 6:30pm



Most of my time in Vallarta has been made up of going to the beach for a few hours in the afternoons, sometimes going out in the evenings with people from the hostel, and trying to avoid George whenever possible. As I'm approaching my last few days in Mexico, I think I am adopting the Karl Pilkington approach of doing very little with my time so that the days don't go as fast. An excellent mindset to have when you're travelling, I'm sure you'll agree.

The next time I write it will probably be from San Francisco (I fly Monday afternoon). I will be sad to leave Mexico, which is a good sign I guess. Despite being here for almost 2 months, I feel that there is still so much in the area of the country I have been to that I haven't seen, nevermind the areas (e.g. Yucatan) that I haven't been to. I expect I'll be back one day.



The sun is finally setting on my Mexican adventure!

Twig

Guadalajara

I arrived quite early at the 'Hostel Centro Guadalajara', and having read that it had won awards in consecutive years, my first instinct was one of disappointment. It didn't feel particularly clean, and certainly not as welcoming and friendly as the website would have you believe. In some ways I guess this depends on the guests more than anything else, but I still think the way the hostel is run and set up influences this. Whitney (Atlanta) was already staying here however, and when she emerged later in the morning it was good to have a familiar face around. I also met Eric, a Dutch guy, and we chatted about watching the football (Chivas Guadalajara vs Cruz Azul) at a bar somewhere in town. We ended up, thanks to a recommendation from the girl on the hostel reception, in Tlaquepaque. It was a nice part of town, but also quite far (we arrived at half time), and the bar in question was fairly empty and there wasn't much atmosphere. The game also ended 0-0, seems like I can't even see a Mexican goal on the TV...

Back at the hostel I also met Nick, an Australian guy, and Robert. Robert was nice enough but also had his own little ways... He trapped me into a 'follow-up' conversation, even though we hadn't had an original one. When I pointed out this fact, however, he wasn't deterred and soon I was being shown all the comic strips he was working on. He seemed pretty convinced that "a lot of people would be interested in these stories", but they looked pretty dreadful to me. I didn't tell him that obviously, but rather made my excuses and escaped left.

To be honest, I already had a feeling that I wanted to move on to a different hostel, but stuck around at least for a night out with Eric, Nick and Whitney. The bar was ok, but having only slept for a few hours the previous night, I wasn't really in the mood, and as Nick put it, the beer was "going down like a fence post". Having arrived that night, Nick was also feeling like heading back so we got directions from Eric. The map we were given by the hostel was nothing short of pathetic, so we needed sound advice from the Dutchman in order to ensure a safe return to the hostel.

"Go down this street until you reach the big road. Cross it, and then once you get to Madero, go another couple of blocks and you'll reach the road the hostel is on".

Simple enough. Except we didn't encounter the 'big road' on the way to the bar, so problem one was figuring out exactly what constituted "big road". Once that had been established, we ended up wandering the streets for about an hour. Some of which I was glad I had company for (not because I am a romantic homosexual, but because they were a bit scary...) Finally we discovered that the road we wanted was actually before the turning to Madero, not after it as instructed, hence why we had been ambling aimlessly for so long. Cheers for that, "Eric"!

The following morning, I hear from Nick about some shenanigans that had occurred at the hostel the previous night (in the room next door to mine). He woke up in the middle of the night to find the woman from the hostel 'supervising' another random girl hacking his padlock off his locker. Somewhat understandably puzzled, he told the girl that that was his lock. She shrugged and moved onto another locker. The reason this happened was apparently that a guest from the hostel had broken his leg and was in hospital and needed his stuff. Perhaps a decent reason, but not really the best way to go about it from the hostel staff point of view... Added to a number of other factors, this story convinced me to spend my afternoon checking out another hostel. The 'Tequila Hostel' in fact. Not quite the party centre you'd expect from the name, it was clean and homely. Sky TV, a small pool and a guitar! I moved in the afternoon, and kicked up a bit of a fuss when Centro Hostel tried to charge me 60 pesos for 'use of the facilities after 11am'. Eventually they told me not to worry about it. Good.

Because my camera wasn't going to be fixed until Wednesday, I avoided doing too much in the way of sightseeing for the first few days. On Tuesday I went to Wal Mart to buy a pair of trainers. Not the best brand I don't think ('Sky') but not they're not too shabby and were less than 20 quid. Bargain. Not sure they'd go down too well with the girls of Guadalajara though, who are apparently known to be quite "Fresa". When Jenny (see later) asked me if I knew what this meant, I thought my guess of "Strawberry?" was a good one, but apparently the connotations are more along the lines of 'stuck up', 'rah', 'pretentious' etc. Perhaps this is the reason why there are so many hair-extension/wig shops throughout the city. The fact that this stood out to me should tell you how prevalent they are, it's crazy.

Other people I met here were Juan Carlos, Rojina, Arturo and Oscar, who all worked at Tequila Hostel and were really cool. Sean from America was really into his boxing, and despite merely doing it as a pasttime, on one of his trips to the local boxing gym, he managed to end up sparring with Saúl Alvarez, who is touted as the new Mexican boxing sensation! Stef & Hannah from England were a month or so into their Toronto to Rio trip, and joined me for several beers throughout the week, a meal at a restaurant (where they made the salsa in front of us) and inspired me to do some home cooking for the first time during my trip! Daniela from Germany and her fiancé Sal from Mexico. Sal was a cool guy who clearly wasn't a big fan of the Americans. It seemed like any conspiracy theory going, he bought, and every treaty ever written between his country and the US Government was to the detriment of Mexicans. He was also a historian by hobby, which was really interesting for one or two conversations, but when every topic seemed to come back to the corruption of the church, even if I didn't disagree with his thoughts, I felt like suggesting we got hammered instead.

[L to R:] Sal, Daniella, Stef, Hannah, Sean.

Then there was Michael, who I recognised from my time at the Centro Guadalajara hostel, and who only stayed a day or two because he didn't like the fact that people didn't wash their dishes up. Now, as Dan and Edgy will testify, I'm no slouch when it comes to keeping the kitchen clean, but I think when you're staying at a hostel, and the reason no-one washes up is because the cleaner does it all every morning, I think that's taking analness a bit far. Before he left Michael was telling me about a guy he met at the previous hostel who was covered in LA gang tattoos, and 'confided' in Michael that although he was now 'reformed', he had been in prison when he was younger, had robbed people all over the US and if he returns to the States he will probably be locked up again. In addition to these lovely facts, he also trained as part of the Ayrian Nation. Given that Michael is black, I don't blame him for feeling a bit uncomfortable with this guy! It also made me think back to the incident with Nick's locker with a bit more suspicion. Juan Carlos, to his eternal credit, actually told this guy in question earlier in the week that the Tequila Hostel was full. Not sure if my stay would have been quite so cosy otherwise.

On Thursday I finally headed out, camera in hand, to see the city. I found it amazing that I could just keep walking in the same direction and keep coming across new buildings, squares, monuments etc. I bumped into two fellow hostel guests, Kelsey and Jenny (from California and New York respectively) whilst I was out and we headed to the Mercado San Juan de Dios, apparently the largest market in Latin America. And it was indeed pretty massive. Almost a whole floor dedicated to selling electronics and trainers. I wasn't sure how any of the sellers could make money when competition was so fierce.



View across some of Guadalajara's main squares



Mercado San Juan de Dios

In the evening I finally settled down in front of Baltimore Ravens vs. Atlanta Falcons. I had been looking forward to it all week, and hence had brought it up many times with the other guests so they knew not to even think about watching a film or playing XBox. Hardly anyone reading this really cares, so I'll just outline the details... Falcons were winning by a fairly narrow margin the entire game. Ravens scored a Touchdown with 1 minute remaining. I was crestfallen. But then the Falcons found enough time to score a Touchdown themselves and reclaim victory from the jaws of defeat and I was ecstatic. Also emotionally drained, so my plans to head out that night quickly faded, especially as no-one else in the hostel really seemed up for it.

Generally my feelings of Guadalajara were that of a little disappointment. Lots of people had told me that it was an amazing city, better in fact than Mexico City. However, whilst I can't knock it in terms of being a lovely place, and probably a really cool city to live in, I get the impression that these comments are much like someone from Manchester saying that "Manchester is so much better than London". It's really not, so get over it. In addition, my stay at Tequila was really cool and I met lots of great people, but no-one really seemed up for partying, and after hearing that Guadalajara is Mexico's number 1 party city, I couldn't help but feel that when I left on the Saturday, I still had unfinished business there.

There has also been a rather big development in my life since coming to Guadalajara. Most of you know that I have long been a fan of the browns, and have been known to find yellows tempting from time to time. But this all changed in Guadalajara when I came across these beautiful specimens in one of the shopping centres:

New favourites

Now I can add reds and purples to the list. I was obviously talking about M&Ms, what else did you think I meant?

I am writing this from Puerto Vallarta and I have already done a couple of really cool things here, so I intend to post again shortly!

Twig



Fixed camera & Hallowe'en

My camera is now fixed, so I have been able to load a few pictures onto the latest post.

One thing I forgot to mention was that on Saturday 30 October, a few of us were going to a Hallowe'en party. I hadn't managed to get myself a costume, but to be honest when I turned up I thought it was probably better to have no costume than a poor one. The whole place was full of goths and punks and people really going for it with Hallowe'en style outfits. The club was awesome, and seeing goths dancing around to electronic and industrial music was exactly how you would imagine it to be in some sort of vampire movie. Suha had been looking forward to this party for ages, and I was starting to see why. However, I had half a beer and it wasn't going down too well. I said to Veronica that I was feeling tired, and rightly so she wasn't impressed. I was also a bit frustrated by this, but suddenly it seemed apparent that this tiredness wasn't normal. I mentioned to Suha that I felt so tired that I was on the verging of fainting, and sure enough, a couple of minutes later, everything started going a kind of black and purple haze (that wasn't just the goths, and Jimi Hendrix wasn't playing at the time), then the voices and music turned into a big mixture of fuzz and before I knew it I had collapsed. Next thing I remember was ice being put over my head and slowly waking up. It must have been the heat in the club, because ten minutes later I was well enough to get up and walk around, but it still seemed like a good idea to head back (well, Suha took me back) to the hostel. Quite embarrassing really, don't think I've ever fainted before, must be getting old... Also felt bad for Suha, as the party she had been looking forward to for weeks had lasted all of 1 drink and 30 minutes before some unacclimatised foreigner decided to nearly die in her company. Sorry about that...

I have left Mexico City!

Yes, I finally found the courage to pack my bags and head west. The decision was made easier by the fact that Beatriz was interested in going, Suha said she felt like a break from the city having quit both her job at the hostel and her university course within a few days of each other, and James had returned after a couple of weeks in New York and expressed a desire to join the fun, complete with a recommendation from his guidebook about a small town called Patzcuaro, which was well known for its 'Dia de Muertos' (day of the dead) festival. Hallowe'en is fairly big in Mexico, but apparently 'Day of the Dead' is more important, and occurs on the 1st and 2nd of November.

The next morning, I was up first, and as we had agreed to try and leave by about 10am, I made sure that there was enough clunking around to wake James, who was sleeping next door. I texted Suha to make sure she was up, but didn't hear anything for a while. I haven't been able to shift my organisational tendencies since I've been here unfortunately. Well, I say unfortunately, but I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing that when I agree a time of 10am with people, I am usually ready by at the latest 10:15... (even though I must concede, I am also often the last one out the door as I always remember something at the very last minute). Beatriz wasn't up until 9:45, and then said she wasn't sure if she was going to come anymore because she was having problems with her bank card and needed to sort it out. We decided to hang around for a while, but eventually decided to press on (at midday!) without her. The bus we took was pretty awesome, first-class style seats (3 to a row, to give you an idea of the size and space), and the 5 hour journey went quite quickly. The views on the way were pretty spectacular (I took some photos and will post when I get chance, more on this later...), and I had a craving to go horseback riding across the plains and over the mountains. My imagination may also have had me plucking arrows from my quiver, and accurately dispatching them at any unfortunate beast that dared to cross my path.

On arriving in Patzcuaro, James checked his guidebook again and informed us that he hadn't seen the sentence which read something along the lines of "Because the Day of the Dead festival in Patzcuaro is so well known, many visitors throughout Mexico come to stay at this small town, so if you want somewhere to stay it is advisable that you book months in advance." And here we were, rocking up on the evening of the event, with no reservations to our name. Beatriz phoned to say she was on her way, and would be with us around midnight. She was also bringing a tent, and after one or two luckless enquiries, we were beginning to think we might need it. Even though the festivities began at 10pm, we decided to wait until she arrived.

As James and I poorly navigated the crowds, we lost Suha, who has a habit of wandering off without a moment's notice. When we found her again, she brought news of an available hotel room, which was a little bit pricey, but also quite comfortable. There was much rejoicing, partly because it was starting to get pretty cold and the thought of pitching up a tent in the middle of nowhere was getting less appealing by the minute.

The festival itself was held on the island of Janitzio, and we had to take a boat to reach it. The journey out was fun, and the mist falling across the lake added to the eerieness of the occasion. The boat back at 5:30am was less fun as the icy air clung onto our tired bodies without much retaliation. Up to this point, I have been referring to a 'festival', because this is what I fully expected it to be, a bit like Hallowe'en. However, when we reached the main hotspot for activity, it was clearly a lot more sombre than anything we imagined. Many Mexicans (for the most part indigenous older women) sit quietly by decorative arrangements scattered throughout a hillside graveyard, and mourn loved ones who have (recently, presumably) passed away. The huge line of tourists weaves in and out of these displays and even though it was fascinating, there was definitely a sense of intruding, and Beatriz (or maybe James) described the occasion as rather voyeuristic. I suppose this has been a tradition for many years, and so I don't think these women would have been offended as such, but I still felt it important to be quiet and respectful. We saw a couple of guys acting rather drunkenly and it didn't seem right. Then there was an American 'dude' who felt it important to share with James that there was "a lot of spiritual shit going on" and that he "really felt part of this". We came to the conclusion that he really felt nothing of the sort and that he was in actual fact, a complete tosser.

Dia de Muertos, Patzcúaro

We returned back to the hotel at about 6:30am, when Beatriz announced she was leaving to get a bus to a beach on the coast. It was a bit of a surprise, the three 'remainders' all felt far too tired to comtemplate anything of the sort, but it was fair enough as she wanted to get to the beach by the afternoon.

The next day we wandered round the main plaza in Patzcuaro for a bit and went to a 'Michoacana' for an ice cream. The state of Patzcuaro (and Morelia) is Michoacan, and is famous for its ice cream. I went for 'Choco Crispies' because a) I still have the mental age of a 5 year old and b) I thought it would be done really well. I was disappointed to learn that it was essentially frozen breakfast cereal, once you've left it in the bowl for several minutes. There was indeed the 'chocolate milk' ice cream supporting cast, but the stars of the show, the 'crispies' themselves, amounted to nothing more than soggy coco pops... most disappointing. I would like to say I learnt my lesson, but the next time I had such an opportunity, I went for 'choco cookie' which failed to yield significantly better results...

Chloe and Donna (mentioned several posts ago) had been in contact to say they were near Cancun and that their current island (Isla de Holbox) was amazing. James decided that he was going to brave the 30-hour coach journey and join them. He sent them a facebook message to tell them he was on his way, and at some point during his mammoth voyage, Donna wrote back to tell him that unfortunately they had already moved on. If you're reading this James, I hope that wasn't too annoying, but I get the impression you were happy lounging on an awesome beach regardless of whether the girls were there too!

This left Suha and I to spend to a couple of days in Morelia. I had read that it was one of the most beautiful colonial cities in Mexico. At first I was unimpressed, as it didn't seem out of the ordinary, but the more we explored the more I realised that it was actually a cool city and had a good mix of tradition style and modern practicality.

We hadn't booked any hotels, and wandering up and down the streets that I had checked out earlier in the internet cafe was to no avail. It rarely is to be honest; I always think that making a note of the road names and rough location will be sufficient to find a place, but the infamous lack of signposts, maps and advertising often come back to bite me. I don't know how hostels make money when their main objective seems to be to keep themselves as well hidden as possible. We reached 'Hotel Colonial' and decided to have a look. It seemed nice enough but we had also had another hostel recommended to us which was about a 20 minute walk from our current location. I felt we needed to check out the actual rooms of both places before parting with our money. My bag was killing me, and rather than dragging it all through the hotel, I told Suha to quickly go and check the room whilst I waited in reception and I'd trust her judgement. She said ok and then wandered outside; I assumed she was taking a phone call. After twenty minutes I went to see why this call was taking so long. Suha was nowhere in sight. I peered down the sideroads, but nothing. I found this a bit strange, but went back inside and waited a bit longer, having to try to explain to the hotel manager in Spanish that I was waiting for my friend to return but at the moment I didn't have a clue where she was or when she would be back... Eventually, about an hour later, Suha shows up and, I think understandably, I was bemused and a little bit angry. When I asked what had happened, Suha wore a puzzled look and replied, "I went to check out the room at the other hostel like you asked me to...." A bit of a misunderstanding then. Not sure what to make of the fact she thought I would ask her to walk half way across the city and report back like some sort of field agent. Chivalry is dead when I am involved, clearly. Thankfully, the 'report' was that the other hotel wasn't that nice, so we stayed at the Colonial. Having been sat in the reception for so long, I would have felt a bit awkward getting up and leaving for somewhere else.

There wasn't much to report in particular in Morelia, but I will try and put some photos up, particularly of the cathedral which was awesome. We went to see "Paranormal Activity 2" at the cinema before we left town. I was expecting something pretty dreadful, but it was actually not too bad. On my last night in Mexico City I went to see "Saw: The Final Game", which was less scary but far more gruesome. Some bits were a bit sick, some bits quite comical (but not for the squeamish).

Me, James and Beatriz preparing for Saw 3D.

The plan was to head to the south coast of Michoacan and find a beach, preferably the same beach as Beatriz, who by now had met up with San Diego Whitney. I make it sound like we would go to one of the several beaches along the coast and hope they happened to show up, but we tried to be a bit more coordinated than that. Unfortunately any texts from the others were a bit vague and uncommited, so we ended up having to make a decision without them. As it transpired, at 4am in Lazaro (a beach resort, but from the brief glimpse I got of it, also something of an urban eyesore) there was only one bus leaving in the next few hours, which was for Caleta. We knew Beatriz and Whitney weren't there, because that was their first destination and now they were on the move, but it didn't matter. We got on the bus.

We turned up in Caleta at about 6am. It did not appear to be a very nice place. Clearly a very small, very poor village, we wandered along the road hoping to see some sort of hostel or hotel. We found one eventually and went in to get a room. In hindsight, we could have ventured further down the road and checked out a few other hotels, but when it's pitch black, you're really tired, and you're in a relatively uninhabited place, you don't think too much about the options. No-one looks at the menu in a greasy spoon life. Nevertheless, the hotel room was decent enough, and overlooked the Pacific Ocean and the town's lighthouse. It was a nice view, and waking up to it in the morning (well, afternoon) was also rather pleasant.

View from the hotel in Caleta

We wandered down to the beach in the afternoon, and again I was surprised at how little there was there. A few beachside restaurants with no customers, and a couple of men working on a fishing boat. The first stretch of beach was a bit stoney and I was keen to walk further onto the next section. This was actually pretty breathtaking. It was like something from a film set. As the waves crashed in against the shore, a towering terracotta cliff face climbed above us, with palm trees gathered at the back of the beach. Walking further still, we found a small cave and rockpools, which sat below some larger rocks. The sand was perfect, no stones to avoid or suffer, but sand with consistency solid enough to run on, or lie on, without getting covered in the stuff. A few minutes after we had picked our spot, some local boys conviently decided to set up a football pitch close by, whereby any goal scored or any near misses would have almost certainly meant the ball rolling and hitting us. The overriding feeling was, however, that of desperately wanting to join in with the game. Once the boys had left, we were virtually the only people on the entire stretch of beach, save for the odd swimmer or photographer. It was amazing, and I will definitely be attaching a photo here soon so you can all be ridiculously jealous of me.





Beach at Caleta











The following evening we went back to Lazaro for a connection. Whilst we were waiting for the busses, we saw a news bulletin about the recent drug baron vs police war. There were roadblocks, car fires, possibly shootings, and it was all taking place in.... Patzcuaro and Morelia. We contemplated waiting until the morning, as our routes, particularly Suha's, would take us in that direction, but in the end decided we would probably be ok. Suha headed back to Mexico City and fifteen minutes later my bus was ready to take me to Guadalajara. It was 1:30am and took 8 hours. I managed to get a bit of sleep but not a great deal. Before we left Lazaro however, there was still enough time for me to realise my camera was broken. This was a slightly annoying development in my trip and I hope that it is fixable. Hence why there aren't any photo uploads at the moment. Sorry about that, but you know what they say, a word tells a thousand pictures. If the word is 'collage'.

Twig

Teotihuacan

My posts are like busses, I don't bother for a week and then two come along at once.

Went to the gym on Tuesday. Now I know some people might, perhaps justifiably, think I am a narcissist and a poser, but there was a guy in the gym taking pictures of himself. It's bad enough when people take pictures of themselves in the mirror and put it on facebook, but surely that is going too far.

On Wednesday I went to the fair, which was located in the section of Chapultepec which I have tried to find on many occasions. I went with Suha, who drove, so this time there wouldn't be a problem. Except I failed to underestimate quite how dreadful Mexico City is for not signposting anything (more on this later). After driving around for ages, and asking several people, we finally found it. I was planning on going to Six Flags later in the week, so wasn't overly concerned about going on the rollercoaster, especially as Suha didn't want to. We went on a couple of bizarre/shit rides (one was a simulator and it was sooooo bad, it was about the same level of bumpiness as the city's roads), I persuaded Suha to go on 'Crazy Mouse', which was a cross between Chessington's Rattlesnake (amazing ride) and the good old fashioned 'Waltzer'. Later we went to the Haunted House, which is the main reason Suha wanted to go to the fair in the first place. It was actually quite scary, although being the ultra-brave person I am, I ended up leading the group round, and didn't break into a run at any point. This caused a problem for the staff/actors as I was holding up all the groups behind, and for everyone else in my own group, since they had to endure being scared witless for longer. However, since I can't understand Spanish, any instruction or plea for me to hurry along a little fell on deaf ears. The height of my braveness came when a guy (in a mask) having an exorcist style fit (complete with moving furniture) leapt from his bed and ran towards the group. I immediately let go of Suha's hand and broke for the door, very much with a "save yourself" mentality. Suha fell to the floor screaming, but that wasn't my problem anymore, I was free.

On Thursday I was going to Teotihuacan, also known as 'Las Pyramides' (the reason for this name will become obvious shortly, if you haven't already guessed). The plan was to head out quite early, in the hope that it wouldn't be as busy, but even though a leaving time of around 8am was ideal, a fairly late night on Wednesday meant that I would settle for a bit of a later start. Veronica and Suha both said they wanted to come with me, and I was glad to be having company for the outing. I told them to be at the hostel for 10am. This was clearly a little optimistic, and Suha finally turned up at 12. We met Veronica at the Metro station, but she was also late and we didn't get on the train until 1pm. We then had to get to get a bus which took the best part of an hour.

This now brings me to one of the most frustrating aspects of life in Mexico City; There is very little guidance to anywhere, regardless of whether you are a local or a tourist. I wouldn't expect tourist information booths round every corner, but honestly, unless you actually know exactly what you are looking for and where you need to go, you're stumped. I alluded to this earlier about finding the mystery section of Chapultepec Park, and in previous posts about how taxi drivers don't know where anywhere is, and you end up having to give them directions. For example, I went to the Metro station the other day, and knew roughly where it was. I was walking along the road and only managed to find it because I walked past the entrance - even from 20 metres away, there is nothing to signal that it exists. And so, back to the Teotihuacan bus... that's what it is called. The bus stops briefly and it sounds like the bus driver may have said something. However we were near the back so it was little more than a muffle. Add to that the fact that nobody on the bus got up to leave, so we didn't think anything of it. The next thing I notice, is we are driving past a turning labeled 'Pyramides'. This alarms me, and on checking with another passenger we realise that we missed the stop and now had to get off at the next village. It annoyed me immensely that there wasn't more effort on the driver's part to bring attention to the fact that we had arrived at one of the biggest tourist attractions in Mexico, and that perhaps there might have been non-locals on the bus who might need to get off!

On arriving at the village, Suha asked a few people how to get back to Teotihuacan, and we ended up walking. The time was now 3:30pm and I was getting a little bit agitated because I was worried it might shut at 4. We finally got our tickets and discovered that we were ok. It was 3:55 and the site closed around 5:30. We made our way across the ancient city towards the largest temples, the Temple of the Moon and the Temple of the Sun. Personally I think the Aztecs missed something by not having a 'Temple of the Wind', since that seemed to be the main weather type present.

I was planning on climbing both temples, but Suha and Veronica were both against that idea. I tried to persuade them but they weren't having any of it. We were having to scale and descend several times en-route to the main site, and I was also feeling a bit tired, plus I wasn't sure how my knees would hold out (they're no better since I've left. It's quite depressing.)

Temple of the Sun. I was going to climb this bad boy.

As Suha and Vero took their seats (and to be honest, I saw them as spectators, who had come to cheer me on throughout my ascent, but when I returned I discovered they had been buying things from the local tradesmen instead. I even have photo evidence from the top of the temple to prove this. Typical), I begin the climb. I have already thought about which music I needed to assist me, and the choice was obvious. Theme music from Last of the Mohicans. As the violins churned in my ears, I kept walking. I was getting tired but the music helped me push and not to stop. I avoided using the handrails, and took pleasure in passing others who clearly had not thought about such motivation techniques. As I reached the summit, the song smoothly transcended from the steady solo violin into the epic triumphant string section. It was perfect. I realise that I am extremely sad for taking such pleasure in this, but anyone who has ever played Mario Kart with a carefully selected soundtrack will appreciate the extra dimension music can add to an already unforgettable experience.

If the wind was strong on the ground, then you can imagine what it was like on top of the pyramid. Nevertheless, the views were phenomenal and the feeling I had after reaching the top was amazing.

View from the Temple of the Sun

After this, there was only one thing left to do - climb the Temple of the Moon (you can see this pyramid in the picture above). I convinced Suha to climb it too, as it wasn't as big, but Vero didn't want to. I blame it in on smoking. It was a shame though, since Veronica had never been to Teotihuacan before, and I actually preferred the views from the Moon temple, although it wasn't as high. Suha complained a little bit about being tired once she reached the top, but I think part of the enjoyment is that it does take a little bit of effort, and it makes the view and the atmosphere a little more special. After Suha went back down I decided to stay for a bit and once again had some music to enhance the mood (Eddie Vedder - Long Nights. Awesome.)
Teotihuacan was quite a tiring excursion (I'd like to point out the the Temple of the Sun isn't that enormous, not like climbing Everest or something), but one which was definitely worth it, and even though we turned up about 5 hours later than I would have liked, in the end it worked out ok, since by this point in the day, it wasn't very busy either. I fell asleep on the bus home.

[Clockwise, L to R:] View from Temple of the Moon; Teotihuacan; Suha trying to deal with the windy conditions; Looking across the Aztec city; Veronica; Conquering the Temple of the Moon.

You cannot appreciate how inexplicably bloody difficult it is to put pictures side by side on this blog. It's taken me about half an hour.

Adios!

Twig

Fiesta Mexicana!

During the day on Saturday, I went out to the shopping centre across the road and hoped to find a guitar to play. Just because I haven't played one since I left. I didn't want to impress anyone, or feel like I needed a guitar to justify my current position of "traveller", I just miss it. Luckily I found a spot in the store focusing on musical instruments. There was an electric guitar, which was out of tune, and an acoustic guitar, which was locked on its stand. The bass guitar wasn't really going to satisfy my craving, but it was better than nothing. Until I realised it only had three strings. And so the void in my life continues for a little while longer...

In the evening there was a party at the hostel. There had been parties the previous two nights which I had made an appearance at, but Saturday was supposed to be the main one. It was a costume party, but because I hadn't been sure whether I would see Makocha this weekend, I hadn't actually organised anything. There were a few people from the hostel going who didn't have costumes, it wasn't mandatory, but a most had made an effort. Fortunately, Beatriz had a spare 'Mexican Wrestler' (Luchadores) mask for me. Unfortunately, it didn't fit too well so I spent the entire time walking round with my eyes half closed, stitching grazing my forehead and concern about my inevitable 'post-wrestler-mask' hair.

Whitney's mask was clearly a much better fit than mine

Another English guy, Pranav, had moved into the hostel on Thursday night, who worked for BBC Sport. He had a fair bit of time off, and his job included doing the live commentary updates for Cricket (I wasn't able to discuss much on this topic, but remembered to inform him that Flintoff was on my flight), Rugby and occasionally football. I was quite envious of his job, but apparently his department is steadily having to move to Manchester, which was enough for me to reconsider probing for details as to how to get such a role. Pranav actually moved out Saturday afternoon when he heard about the party planned for the evening. It was understandable; he was still suffering from jet lag, and didn't want to spend three of his five nights in Mexico City not sleeping due to the parties upstairs. I mentioned to him about possibly going to the football the following day though, and he seemed keen.

Which brings me to.... Sunday 24th October. 17:00. Club America vs Guadalajara Chivas. The two biggest teams, in terms of levels of support, and naturally, levels of hatred amongst other supporters, in Mexico. Venue: Estadio Azteca. The fifth largest stadium in the world, but the biggest 'well known' one. A capacity of 105,000 and has held two World Cup finals, as well as being the setting for the infamous 'Hand of God' goal.

Nine of us left the hostel at 2:30, and we met three others on the way, after we had eaten at a market stall. It seemed to take a lifetime to decide how to get to the stadium, and once we were there there were more reasons why we had to wait to buy tickets (during which time Molly was interviewed by national television. I wouldn't have minded doing it, but not being able to speak the same language as the interviewer would have been a considerable barrier). We finally purchased them at 16:57... Pranav and I were getting a little restless; for most of the group, this was a day out at a football match, to me (and probably Pranav too), this was a football match which was doubling up as a day out with friends. No football fan likes to miss the kick off, which is what we managed to do, despite leaving the hostel 2.5 hours before the match...

Nevertheless, the main thing was that we were seeing a game at this stadium, and what a stadium it is. There are no seats inside, just rows of concrete. Due to our late arrival, there didn't seem to be any spaces for twelve bums, so we kept climbing the steps until we reached the very back row. It was high, but the view was still good.

Estadio Azteca: Club America v Guadalajara Chivas.

Beatriz was adamant that we would be supporting America. I was happy to go along with it, seeing as they were the home side, although I would have preferred to cheer for Chivas, as they play in red and white stripes, the Colungas support Chivas, and America are known to be media favourites, yet generally disliked amongst those who aren't heavily influenced by the press. I was surprised however, at how much the fans mixed, outside and inside the stadium. People with Chivas shirts sat alongside those sporting America colours, and even the 'Ultras' appeared to be no more than flag-waving-jump-up-and-down fans, rather than the brawling, missile-throwing nutters I was expecting. Maybe that's a good thing, but it seemed people were more intent on eating, chatting, taking photos and unthinkably, even the one thing no true fan should EVER do at a football match... having fun.

The Azteca is the third World Cup final stadium I have visited this year. Wembley in March (I think it was March...) for the prestigious Johnstone's Paint Trophy, and the Olympic Stadion in Berlin for a drab 0-0 between Hertha Berlin and Vfl Bochum. Having seen one game abroad end in a 0-0, I was hoping for a little more excitement, and definitely at least one goal in Mexico.

Final Result: Club America 0 - 0 Guadalajara Chivas.

Balls. By the end I was cheering anyone who came near the penalty area, but it wasn't to be. In a sure sign of a dull game, the Mexican waves started near the end. Normally I'm not a fan of these, but as I was in Mexico, possibly in the stadium where it gained its notoreity, I was happy enough to participate.

[L to R:] Sara, Chris, Carlos, Molly, Beatriz, Whitney, Eduardo, Whitney, Pranav, Me, Suha, Hugo.

After the football, a few of us were led by Hugo and Suha (who work at the hostel). I thought we were heading to the Metro but they were looking for the fair. It turned out that we had been going the wrong way and it was all a bit confusing. We spoke to the others, who we had separated from, and decided to meet them for dinner in Coyoacan. Before we hailed a taxi, Chris decided to nip down a side-street for a quick toilet trip. As we waited on the main road, about 30 seconds after Chris had disappeared, a police car emerged from the same side road. Whitney was quick to observe, stating "I hope they haven't just seen Chris". Then the car door opened, the two policemen got out and marched back down towards the beleaguered urinator. At a cost of 200 pesos, it was certainly the most expensive piss Chris hasd taken in a while, but a bribe was a better option than an arrest. Once this incident had passed, we all clambered into a taxi and headed for Coyoacan. When I say 'all', I mean 6 of us, and when I say 'taxi', I am talking about a normal saloon. Hugo and Whitney shared the front seat, whilst Suha sat on the floor in the back. Naturally, because the football had just finished, almost every other vehicle was a police one, and it seemed inevitable that we would get pulled over by the same policemen who had just busted Chris in the alley, and on seeing his face they wouldn't be overly happy.

But fortunately, we were ok, and got to Coyoacan without any problems. The Bazar was also open, so I managed to get Makocha the gift (because I'm going to leave soon) I had travelled to Coyoacan for on Thursday without success. We ate at a nice Cantina, although sometimes the number, and brashness of smokers in Mexico can be quite annoying. It's a shame people have to light up every few minutes, but especially when you're confined to a seat and have food in front of you, it would be nice if now and again smokers had the courtesy not blow it straight into your surrounding air. Before we headed into the Cantina we were stood in the Coyoacan plaza, and Quentin Tarantino walked past. I only saw him from the back because I'm generally pretty terrible at noticing things when I'm out and about (there have been so many times in London where a friend has said "did you see her?" and by the time I've emerged from my daydream and adjusted my short-sighted eyes the girl in question has gone), but it was still cool that he was there!

I have more to write about, but will either update this post or make a new one later.

Twig

Due to disillusionment with the tools at my disposal on this website, I am intent on not making any more posts

Oh go on then. And I would like to state that despite how the title of this post may appear, I have always had total belief that this website can help me fulfil my blogging ambitions for a long time to come.*

The reason there haven't been many posts this week is because I haven't really done much. On Saturday I was feeling better but in the end I didn't get up to much. Then on Sunday, I felt ill again. I went to see the doctor on the Monday and started a course of antibiotics. In a bid to recover properly, I stayed at Makocha's house in Sayavedra until Wednesday morning. In that space of time the only thing of note I did was finish my book ('Eleven' by Mark Watson. I thought it was great, in case anyone is looking for a good (and fairly easy) read) and watch a film called 'The Ultimate Gift'. Not only was I feeling pretty dreadful, but this weekend also saw the good performances in the sporting world coming to an end, with Saints and the Falcons both losing.

My eventual return to the hostel was met by much rejoicing, and news that the internet wasn't working. Even though I shouldn't be using it much, when one isn't feeling great and can only really muster enough energy to 'hang about', such news can be rather devastating. Nevertheless, there is a nice little coffee shop next door which has wifi, and also sells tuna, mayo & cheese crepes. We got the internet back Thursday night at the hostel, but over the past two days, the staff at the coffee shop have got to know me and my tastes (I only like a little bit of Mayo & Cheese) well. In the evening I headed out to a bar called the Black Horse with two new arrivals at the hostel, Miriam (a Norwegian girl) and Chris (half Mexican half British). Miriam is here as part her medical training, and was telling me about some good places to visit near Puerto Vallarta, which hopefully will come in handy later in my trip.

Thursday I decided to head to Coyoacan, the district where I went with Makocha and Alonso during my first weekend. It was a bit of journey to get there, and I was disappointed to find that the Bazar, the main reason why I was going, was closed. So I wandered round for a bit and sat in the sun to eat some M&Ms. As I left the station there was a man handing out free cereal bars. I took one, and made my way up the stairs where I passed a woman begging. I couldn't understand why she didn't wander down and get some of the free bars.

Today I spent a good few hours walking.  Chapultepec is an amazing park. It is so vast that for most of my walk I could only see one or two people in the vicinity, yet I would stumble across an amazing monument one minute, before sauntering through what felt like an enchanted forest the next.

I was also determined to seek out the two lakes which I had twice previously set out unsuccesfully to find. the problem with the area of the park I needed to reach however, is that it is situated on the other side of a main road. And a main road in Mexico City is pretty big. Imagine two M25s alongside each other cutting right throught the middle of the city. I make it so far towards my ultimate destination but trying to navigate all the roads becomes a bit of a nightmare, so I ask two security guards who are conveniently loitering nearby. They send me down a road (convincingly so) which leads me back to where I had started. By this point I had been walking for 2 hours and not eaten anything for about 5 hours, so decided to give up. It is quite frustrating that Mexican people generally don't know where anything is, yet at the same time always have an answer to your question. I even provided the map to these guards, and asked them where our current location was, and they still couldn't manage it.

I spent the final hour of my excursion ended back on a grassy, kind of peaceful (it would have been extremely tranquil but for the main road 20 metres away) verge alongside the only lake which hasn't eluded me. I listened to some music and then to and audiobook and struggled to keep myself from sleeping in the sun.

Maybe this weekend will have some more interesting stories and photos, we shall see. I'm glad to be feeling a bit better, and hope that dreaded food poisoning doesn't hit again. I still need to visit a couple of the places in Mexico City which were on my 'absolutely must do' list before I arrived!

Twig

* Just in case you are totally bemused, this is a reference to the Rooney saga at United this week...