Mexico city then Oaxaca

My journey began on the 08/10/08. The plan; to take in the sights, sounds, smells, culture and people whilst traveling, exploring and working in the exotic far away land of Central and South America. This unfortunately had to start at Heathrow terminal 5 where the mountain of lost luggage with circling vultures is visible from the coach stop.

Before boarding the plane one of those bizzare yet strangely common reminders of how small a world we walk on occurred. I bumped into an old neighbour of mine 'Guy' with his girlfriend 'Ruth'. Not only were they on my flight but had booked into the very same hotel in the biggest city in the world!! A coincidence I put down to everyone's reliance on the google search.

After 12 hours of flying, some bad inflight films, terrible infight music (I suspect was selected by a hospital DJ) and the usual travel plan comparisons with others on board (who then steal your elbow room when your back is turned), I got my first glance of Mexico City from a 1000 ft up. Millions of flickering lights sprawled for mile after mile. They washed around mountains, linking up again on the other side like the incoming tide would a small rock.

After meeting up with Guy and Ruth we shared a taxi to the hotel and it felt as though we'd descended into the ants nest. Thousands of cars fighting for road space in a high speed bumper to bumper flow. After four or five phone calls the taxi driver worked out where our hotel was, on arrival we dumped our stuff and headed for the bar for some much needed cerveza and tacos.

The next day would be my only one in Mexico city before getting the bus South to Oaxaca to meet my step brother Felix so I headed out alone fairly early (which wasn't hard as my body thought it was some time in the afternoon). I enjoyed the time I spent there but felt one day was probably enough as the exhaust fumed hustle and ustle would have worn down a London taxi driver faster than a walk to the shops.

Guy and Ruth decided to get the same bus to Oaxaca. The bus entertainment was James Bond, Casino Royal played at full volume and in Spanish which I strangely enjoyed thanks to the over-the-top bad guy accents. The views were spectacular with cactus pepped mountains and people by the road side selling everything from tortillas to puppys!

After meeting Felix we ate at a small road side taco place, grabbed some beers from the shop next to our apartments and drank and talked rubbish on his porch (hammock included) till the jet lag was too strong to fight.

The place I'm staying in is amazing. It's a big open garden, each apartment has a bathroom and everyone shares the outdoor kitchen. The garden is dotted with different types of palms and lime trees with most of the herbs known to man grown next to the kitchen. There are seven of us sharing the kitchen; a French couple Paulina and Pascal, a Belgian named Stephanie, Yoko, a Japanese woman and an older Italian man, Claudio. There's also the extended Mexican family who own the place, have there own facilities but come and go most of the time. One of which has taken great delight in chanting my name, 'hola Jac.........jac....jac....jac'. There are also two dogs, three cats and a changing number of chickens depending on what's on the menu.

10/10/08

Felix and I walked around some of the markets where you can sample almost anything and I soon found myself chewing on a dried grasshopper which I guess could be described as salty chicken. I can't say I'd like a plague full for dinner though. The Organic market shares it's square with a free independent cinema that shows films from all over the world old and new. It's funded by a local artist and therefore doesn't charge for admission. What a great place! An opinion that wasn't totally shared by a girl I was talking to who had all her bags stolen on her first night in Mexico and even admitted to having to wear the same pants for several days in a row. We promptly left.

That night a few of us from the house went to a fiesta at the abandoned railway station (apparently Mexico's entire railway net work stopped running around 40 years ago but the track and stations still remain). A local big band kicked things off followed by a Gypsy band for Bulgaria accompanied by a DJ wearing far too tight tights and a jester's jacket! It was a odd contrast to be sandwiched between such noise, colour and energy and the ghostly tracks that ran into the night behind us. Bumped into Guy and Ruth, they said they were heading south the next day but we said we may hook up again in Costa Rica.

On the walk back home, Paulina bought a bottle of mezcal which is the local equivalent of tequila which was promptly opened and sampled by all. Back at the house the guide books came out and Felix and I made a hazy plan for a two day hike in the Sierra Norte to start the next day . . . . . . . .