Zach and I stumbled across this little scene the other day, and luckily he happened to have his camera with him.
Fun with Swine H1N1 Flu
Small town, Big church
We unintentionally spent an afternoon in the town of Atotonilco el Alto, another tequila town. I say unintentional because we had only planned on grabbing lunch and connecting to another bus. The other bus, it turned out, had decided not to run because of Holy Week, leaving us with a bit more time than we had planned for. While waiting for another bus (which also didn’t come), we wandered into what I can only describe as the ultimate Mexican bar. Swinging doors? Check. Dudes in cowboy hats openly gambling on the bar? Check. Bull horns on the wall? Check. No women anywhere? Definite check. Pretty great experience, even if everything momentarily screeched to a halt when I walked in.
Eventually, we ended up splitting a cab to our next destination with a woman who had also been stranded by the non-existent bus.
Where your Cuervo comes from
Northwest of Guadalajara lies Tequila, a small town whose name is famous worldwide thanks to the distilled spirit the it has been producing for hundreds of years. The town is surrounded by fields of maguey (blue agave)–the spikey plant used to make the town’s primary export–and highways lined with liquor shops trying to sell the town’s product to motorists passing through. Odd buses shaped like giant barrels and bottles ply the streets shuttling tourists between distilleries. A museum dedicated to the making of tequila sits just off the main square downtown.
It was a hot day when we were there, however, so we settled on spending our time in Tequila drinking a couple of margaritas and visiting a waterpark. Now, to be clear, we didn’t intend to visit the waterpark. We had been approached by a tour guide who tried to sell us on a trip to a waterfall in the canyon outside of town, but the bartender we asked said the waterfall was easily reached by taxi or bus for far cheaper. The bartender, unfortunately, seemed to be confused on what waterfall we had planned to see, as following his directions led us to a water park partway down the canyon (where the above picture was taken). While there was a manmade “waterfall” at the park, it was definitely not what we were looking for. As we waited for the bus to return to the town, we were told that the real waterfall was a 45 minute trek further down the canyon. Lesson learned: never trust a liquor-country bartender’s tourism advice if he needs you to explain how to make your drink (especially when it’s something as simple as a bandera).
Gazebo in Guadalajara
Mexico’s second largest city, and my second stop in Jalisco, is Guadalajara. It has some serious colonial buildings in el centro, a nice little metro and metrobus knock-off, and whole lot of construction going on. This plaza, near the cathedral and government palace, is one of the few places in the historic core that was not torn up and blowing dust in our eyes.
Guadalajara also had the sketchiest bus terminal I’ve been to in a while (though the new main terminal is much nicer), where we caught a bus to our next destination.
Like every other city in the 19th century, Mexico City tried to copy Paris’s boulevards. Or rather, imported Emperor Maximillian tried to copy the boulevards to placate his homesick wife, crazy Empress Carlotta.
Now that's a boulevard!
While newer areas of the city have taken some of its prestige, it’s still the largest center for business, government, and cultural heavy hitters.
In addition to several other important historical roles over the past 600 years, Chapultepec (“Grasshopper Hill”) has been the site of residence of Aztec rulers, Hapsburg Emperor Maximillian, and powerful dictator Porfirio Diaz. I’m sure every last one of them loved rolling out of bed in the morning and seeing these exact views. Ok, to be accurate, there were probably a few less skyscrapers, people, and smog clouds in their days, but still…
North-ish
South-ish
Looking down on the rich, fertile valley that you control from the kick-ass palace you live in must have been a sweet way to start your day. At least the days that didn’t involve getting conquered by the Spaniards, beheaded by the Mexican liberal army, or thrown from power by Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata.
