Well, on January 22, I head to Mexico City. I’ve been doing a ton of research and the city seems extremely interesting, but terribly daunting. It’s huge, as pretty much everything I read and watch likes to tell me. Anyone who I talk to who has flown into Mexico City airport says that, well, again, it’s huge. For as far as you can see it’s city. And that city is covered in a lawyer of smog. And that city is chaotic and seemingly out of control. It’s beautiful. It’s dirty. It’s sinking. It’s growing. It’s modern. It’s ancient. It’s safe. It’s deadly. It’s rich. It’s poor. It’s huge.
I’ve been checking out things to do and there is definitely no shortage. The question is will I get to do half of the things I want to do before I have to leave. That remains to be seen. The other issue is that half of the things I want to see have names that I can’t pronounce! How the heck am I going to get to these places if I can’t even say the name of the places. My Spanish is rusty, and by rusty I mean that the only thing I can say in Spanish is “Por favor, Senior” and make sounds like that Mexican mouse in Loonie Toons cartoons. That is probably not enough to get me around.