Mexico
Mexico City
Christmas 2015 • No more love for the Mexican bus system, not after spending a cumulative 46 hours rolling from city to city, mostly at night and during the holiday scramble. Maybe it was the irritation of my fellow busmates—their smells and snores, their bleeping devices, their inconsolable babies. Maybe it was the bad karma of my seatmate for six hours on a winding mountain road in Chiapas—her hacking cough, the screaming chihuahua tucked inside her jacket. Or maybe it was the woman across the aisle from her, the one who barfed into her blanket as soon as Fast & Furious 7 had finally, mercifully faded to black on the TV screens. Whatever or whomever, thanks for the newfound clarity about domestic air travel. Another thing I'd do differently is dedicate more days to D.F. It's an unrelenting assault on all five senses, as well as a few vital organs (eyes sting and lungs labor because of air pollution), so maybe the great appeal of this massive rugby scrum is finding the refuges within. These worked for me: National Museum of Anthropology, Chapultepec Park, Coyoacan, La Roma, Tlalpan.
