On the whole, I find travel stories to be boring and self-indulgent (calm down, I’ve been witness to 100’s of exceptions). This being the case, I’ll try to make it quick.
The Flight:
If I fly a million times in my life, I doubt I will ever tire of looking out the little double-paned window during take-offs and landings. The matchbox-sized cars pulsating through the main arteries of the city, the personal pools dotting the suburbs, the grid-like organization, the verdant parks and the symmetric and well-manicured baseball fields, I love it all. Occasionally I see someone with a window seat reading a magazine. Invariably, he looks exceptionally cool and seasoned. I, on the other hand, have my face pressed, 6 year-old-like, firmly against the pane for 10 minutes straight, admiring the millions of hours of human blood, sweat, and blueprints that brought us the modern day metropolis. Impressive.
Flying in to Mexico City was no exception. Its size is mind-numbing, and there were plenty of cool streets, buildings, and smog to keep a spectating passenger occupied while landing. And the best part of its massive size, as the Museum of Mexico City points out in its permanent exhibit about the city, is that “it all fits in a basin.”
Ha! Humor in museums? I love Mexico already.
The Hostel:
I think a great idea for a reality show would involve filming the revolving cast of characters that occupy the cockroach infested rooms of international hostels. German loners, American middle-school teachers, New Zealand surfers, British students, Canadian skateboarders (all of whom were present at Hostel Amigo) under one roof, reading their enormous, eco-political books, swapping travel stories and getting wasted on alcohol and diarrhea while the cameras captured it all.
Obviously, turnover would be a problem. So by the end of the show you’d have a catalogue of some 5000 plus characters. But given Altman-like direction and an audience open to the idea of a different kind of character development, it just might work.
As for my hostel, I couldn’t complain. Seven dollars for a room, breakfast, dinner, free internet and a pool table. Also included, free of charge, was the late night music. The music, apparently DJ'd by Donald Rumsefeld, was played just loud enough to shake the floors and make sleep impossible, but not loud enough to physically hurt you.
The Diego Rivera Murals in Mexico City:
One of the more impressive murals in the Palacio Nacional depicts a jumbled mass of over 2000 people, many of them historical figures. That’s 2000 individual faces, painstakingly painted.
And thank God I found a guide. Sure, I could have seen the murals by myself. I even would have appreciated them. But having a guide explain the history behind the images was fantastic. I think there’s part of our brain, probably from being read to as children, that craves to have pictures explained and described. “The running goat is happy,” says my mother, pointing to the image. And sure enough, there is a goat. And he’s running. AND he’s happy! To a child, the descriptive power of language is almost like a magic trick.
I think that’s kind of how I felt looking at the murals in Mexico City. Our guide would explain the way in which the Aztecs collected taxes, and sure enough we’d look up and see the whole scene it being elaborately played out in a historic, pastel snapshot 10 feet tall.
Somebody’s Got a Case of the Mondays
In Mexico City, all parks, museums, and zoos are closed on Monday just ‘cause. Make sure you take advantage of this day to ride aimlessly on the metro or wander around markets.
The Bus to Guanajuato
I can say, without the slightest bit of hesitation, that the bus from Mexico City to Guanajuato was the nicest bus I have ever had the privilege to step foot on. Though my previous experiences are limited to school buses (three to a seat!) and greyhounds (vagrant-drug-sex in the back row!), I have a hard time even imagining a bus more comfortable than the one provided by ETN. I officially support ETN buses.
Stay tuned for news from beautiful Guanajuato.
The Flight:
If I fly a million times in my life, I doubt I will ever tire of looking out the little double-paned window during take-offs and landings. The matchbox-sized cars pulsating through the main arteries of the city, the personal pools dotting the suburbs, the grid-like organization, the verdant parks and the symmetric and well-manicured baseball fields, I love it all. Occasionally I see someone with a window seat reading a magazine. Invariably, he looks exceptionally cool and seasoned. I, on the other hand, have my face pressed, 6 year-old-like, firmly against the pane for 10 minutes straight, admiring the millions of hours of human blood, sweat, and blueprints that brought us the modern day metropolis. Impressive.
Flying in to Mexico City was no exception. Its size is mind-numbing, and there were plenty of cool streets, buildings, and smog to keep a spectating passenger occupied while landing. And the best part of its massive size, as the Museum of Mexico City points out in its permanent exhibit about the city, is that “it all fits in a basin.”
Ha! Humor in museums? I love Mexico already.
The Hostel:
I think a great idea for a reality show would involve filming the revolving cast of characters that occupy the cockroach infested rooms of international hostels. German loners, American middle-school teachers, New Zealand surfers, British students, Canadian skateboarders (all of whom were present at Hostel Amigo) under one roof, reading their enormous, eco-political books, swapping travel stories and getting wasted on alcohol and diarrhea while the cameras captured it all.
Obviously, turnover would be a problem. So by the end of the show you’d have a catalogue of some 5000 plus characters. But given Altman-like direction and an audience open to the idea of a different kind of character development, it just might work.
As for my hostel, I couldn’t complain. Seven dollars for a room, breakfast, dinner, free internet and a pool table. Also included, free of charge, was the late night music. The music, apparently DJ'd by Donald Rumsefeld, was played just loud enough to shake the floors and make sleep impossible, but not loud enough to physically hurt you.
The Diego Rivera Murals in Mexico City:
One of the more impressive murals in the Palacio Nacional depicts a jumbled mass of over 2000 people, many of them historical figures. That’s 2000 individual faces, painstakingly painted.
And thank God I found a guide. Sure, I could have seen the murals by myself. I even would have appreciated them. But having a guide explain the history behind the images was fantastic. I think there’s part of our brain, probably from being read to as children, that craves to have pictures explained and described. “The running goat is happy,” says my mother, pointing to the image. And sure enough, there is a goat. And he’s running. AND he’s happy! To a child, the descriptive power of language is almost like a magic trick.
I think that’s kind of how I felt looking at the murals in Mexico City. Our guide would explain the way in which the Aztecs collected taxes, and sure enough we’d look up and see the whole scene it being elaborately played out in a historic, pastel snapshot 10 feet tall.
Somebody’s Got a Case of the Mondays
In Mexico City, all parks, museums, and zoos are closed on Monday just ‘cause. Make sure you take advantage of this day to ride aimlessly on the metro or wander around markets.
The Bus to Guanajuato
I can say, without the slightest bit of hesitation, that the bus from Mexico City to Guanajuato was the nicest bus I have ever had the privilege to step foot on. Though my previous experiences are limited to school buses (three to a seat!) and greyhounds (vagrant-drug-sex in the back row!), I have a hard time even imagining a bus more comfortable than the one provided by ETN. I officially support ETN buses.
Stay tuned for news from beautiful Guanajuato.
1 comment:
I'm so glad you got a window seat this time....
lerve
:)
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