Go South Young Man: Monterrey to Mexico City

Go South Young Man: Monterrey to Mexico City

Armadillo

I've been in Mexico for a while now, and I still haven't seen:

— an armadillo;
— huge sombreros (except on TV); or
— a Mexican taking a nap underneath said sombrero.

I want my money back.


Stains

50 pesos for laundry service is pretty good, but whenever I hear that song Get What You Give by the New Radicals, I think what a shame it is that this band were a bit of a one-hit wonder. The singer's thing was stained T-shirts. My Ts are stained all the time because I eat like a four-year-old, and I'm thinking, how amazing would it be if these guys became huge and this became the new fashion? Shirts with ketchup stains! Imagine how much you'd save on laundry. But it was not to be, alas. I'm mentally sending inspiration to you, Radicals.

Rock On

My hostel is run by these two totally gay guys. One of them is slightly camp but into 80s hard rock. That made me smile, until I realised that everyone's into 80s hard rock in northern Mexico. They play it when you're waiting for your train at the Metro station, at full blast. Still, given the choice between that and the usual cheesy Mexican fare, bring on Whitesnake.


Come back fuzzy dice; all is forgiven

In case there was still any doubt that Mexican machismo is alive and well, today I saw this enormous 4x4 pickup with a huge black rubber nutsack dangling between the rear wheels. Beat that, UK chavs.

Monterrey is great for chavspotting. The greasy mullet is this year's black over here. The cowboy look is also popular here, complete with ten-gallon hats, huge belt buckles and snakeskin boots. Outstanding.


Bloody Foreigners

Party to a surreal converstation the other night. Here we are, on the doorstep of the biggest flow of immigrants in the world, and the locals are complaining ―without any apparent sense of irony― about all those immigrants swamping Monterrey. Weird how some things seem to be universal.

The gripe here is that dodgy Chinese traders are undercutting local businesses by avoiding taxes. I haven't noticed myself, but apparently some of the morkets downtown are dominated by the Chinese.


There's a hole in your bag Delilah

Being a true Cloggy cheapskate, I made do with the same travel bag for a decade. And seeing as how I travel a fair bit, it's fair to say it had seen better days. The final straw came on this trip, as a gaping hole started to appear and I started losing stuff, notably my camera. Only a forty-quid Argos number fortunately, but still. Still, it was a good excuse to buy myself a decent camera phone. No flash thought, but notice the beautiful beacon that is Starbucks on the photo.


Scenery

Being from a country that has no mountains at all, I love the scenery here in Monterrey. The most striking ―and iconic― feaure here is the Silla, a mountain range just east of the city shaped like a riding saddle. I love young, craggy mountains like that, as opposed to older formations like for instance the Scottish Highlands, which over time have been eroded to smoother, more gentle slopes.


Bimbas

Mexican TV is like Italian TV without the bikinis. All female presenters seem to come out of the same sausage factory: tall, leggy, long-haired and suspiciously güeras (northern, light-skinned). I've noticed that in other parts of Latin America too: they seem to like their beautiful people as white and un-Latino as possible.


5 Nov

Watching the news. The pres's right-hand man died in a plane crash, no doubt giving rise to a glut of conspiracy theories (Mexicans' favourite sport after football).

Looks like McCain'll have to perform a minor miracle to swing things.


Cattle class

My finances being what they are, I'm travelling peasant class to Mexico City. As I'm waiting for my coach, I look longingly at the clase ejecutivo coaches at the end of the platform. The same kind of leggy clones you see on TV, but dressed in stewardess-type outfits, are flocking round a snack trolley, perhaps guarding it from the rabble. I think you pay extra for the legs.


Welcome to Mexico City

Outstanding! This must be some kind of record. I lost my watch before we even pulled into the damn coach station. OK, maybe it slipped under a seat or something, but it's possible one of those feared Chilangos (Mexico City residents) on the coach grabbed it.

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