And We Go

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As I head west, leaving a trail of mango peels, tequila bottles and broken hearts in my wake, I reflect again on the idea of permanence and putting down roots. I genuinely feel like I'd have been happy marrying the girl in Malpasito who drove me into a love trance, and living the rest of my days in an obscure poblito leading a humble, simple and proud life with 2-13 babies. But there's always this force telling me to go. So I go.

I spent the night in the car somewhere in the Oaxaca mountains and almost ran out of gas. Also, she overheated for the sixth time, but fortunately I had the foresight to carry a bottle of water for the radiator with me. The Google estimate of driving times continues to be consistently inconsistent; it told me eight hours. It's already been about ten, and a lady at the gas station (a little house with 20-litre bottles of gas that they siphon into your tank) told me it would be another 5-6 hours to get to Oaxaca City. Chinga su madre! C'est la vie! ..oh shit, wrong language!

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