Have passport, will travel
Mexico calling
I returned from Buenos Aires three weeks ago, and I’m off to Morelia, Mexico tomorrow. I’m excited, and a little ashamed as well, something I just wrote about in my Substack publication (and so won’t go into at length here).
The point is, I’m going, even though I worry (because that’s what I do) it’s somehow elitist, irresponsible, decadent, or any other number of bad things.
And yet — of course it’s a great idea. I’m going to Mexico. When is that ever a bad idea?
Mexico calling… Morelia calling. I was in Morelia once before, in the state of Michoacán, and was utterly charmed by this pink, Cantera-stone, colonial city with its breathtaking cathedral and surreal sound-and-light show replete with fireworks falling right onto our heads every Saturday night as hordes of families stroll about in a massive plaza with ice creams and balloons.
It’s a festival every day. Its parks are full of… again, surreal… old-man dancers (yes! I kid you not), bent over in their old-man masks, feet clacking and streamers flying.
It’s a city of beautiful food. It’s covered markets with stall after stall of morisqueta, churipo, and atapakua. Also, corundas, uchepos, and charales. Or how about aporreadillo, xanducata de pollo, or chongos zamoranos? I can’t stop listing……
