MEXICO CITY: le flâneur

My Spanish skills don’t come from laundry, they come from obsessively watching episodes of “La Reina del Sur.” If you want to talk about smuggling hashish to Spain from North Africa, I’m you guy. If you want to talk about the prison system, look no further. If you want to talk about the early hours of morning when the sunlight casts everything in a grey pall and it’s the moment that at some point in your life you’re sure you will pass on, well, I’m you guy. But if you want to talk about the different treatments for rayon….look elsewhere.

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MEXICO CITY: Adios Mi Amor

And most of all, I think, I would miss the courtyard of the apartment complex. It is, for me, my favorite place on Earth. I revel in the well with it’s aluminum roof, the bougainvillea that creeps along the crumbling enclosure walls, the potted plants that look as if they’ve been sat there for a hundred years, and the random animals and people that would come traipsing through. I’d miss sitting there at night, sipping tequila, looking at the stars which were oddly bright in that cosmopolitan place, thinking of how wonderful and marvelous life could be.

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MEXICO CITY: Burn the Witch!

The gift shop was absolutely lame, which might have been the biggest let down of the day. Now that I think back on it, I’m not sure what I wanted? A pencil sharpener disguised as a tiny skull crusher? An impaling pyramid Christmas bauble? I suppose it’s for the best, though a good book would have been nice to keep on hand for research purposes.

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