Our final stop in Mexico- a week on the Yucatan Peninsula with the plan to see some Maya ruins and hit the beach. After some ‘umming and ahhing’ (cue: my worst case scenarios involving various combos of breakdowns in the dark, guns, and carjackings) we decided to rent a car to get us round for the week… nowhere near as luxurious as Penelope, it was a bit of a miracle that we and the Bambino lasted the week together! With a gruntless little engine and no power steering, we navigated through the pot-hole riddled ‘highways’ and jostled for position in the tiny town streets.
This would have been my response a couple of years ago if someone told me they were going to Oaxaca, the quaint Mexican town with the name that is pronounced nothing like it’s spelt. Fast forward to the present and it seems every other Tom, Dick, and Harriet I know has either been or is going to this tourist hotspot. Unsurprising really when you see what it has to offer- vibrant town centre, easy day trips to the Monte Alban ruins and mezcal (Mexican liquor) factories, hectic markets, and home to the mole, hot chocolates, and other delicious delights.
After being in America for over a month, arriving in Mexico City was a bit of a shock to the system… my first realisation after 3 minutes in Mexico City- this place is hectic, loud, and messy; it’s hard to comprehend where and what all the sounds are when you are bombarded with suffocating heat and humidity. Realisation after 3 hours in Mexico City- should have persevered with those Spanish lessons; people aren’t so keen on ‘stab in the dark’ Spanish when ordering during Friday night prime time. Realisation after 3 days in Mexico City- every park or green space needs a water feature, police are everywhere, and everything I thought I knew about Mexican food was wrong. Hmm, maybe I already suspected that one… but that’s the whole point of traveling!