The first few hours of that express van was all hairpin turns through the mountains. It started raining, the windshield fogged up, and the dipshit driver was fucking with his stupid cellphone every few minutes. Sure, retard, just what you need, some diversion from the road. Anyway, I made it to Oaxaca regardless. Found a bar, Casa de Mescal, IIRC, and drank Indio till closing; ate at a roadside stand and had some real mole, on what I thought were empanadas but here they call them quesadillas. Then I started walking the city.

And I walked. And I walked. One time I sat down at a bench and started sleeping; shortly some guard woke me up and told me to move on. Turns out I was near the government complex or something. But shit, I couldn't find anything open. I just kept going around and around until daybreak, and then I purchased some hot chocoloate, Oaxaca style, and a churro from a street vendor for breakfast. Somewhere in there I also paid MX$2 to use a public restroom; I peed gladly all over town last night but had to take a dump.

My luggage cart finally broke beyond usability; pieces had been falling off since Guadalajara. The zipper on my old Akona bag finally broke in the past week or two, also.

So far my health has been holding up, at least, despite being stuck in that closed van with the driver coughing for hours last evening.

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last updated 2013-01-10 21:04:00. served from tektonic.jcomeau.com