First things first: Oaxaca is great! Quite small city (or at least the center of town seems very compact), and quite different atmosphere than the much much larger Guadalajara, as it’s very obvious that Oaxaca has more tourists. It’s hard to point out the differences completely in point-form, but it’s definitely there. Anyway, the trip here (Saturday and Sunday) deserves a story, as it was quite an experience…
Saturday and Sunday – October 10th and 11th (Silly French!):
Just before getting on the airplane from Guadalajara, we stumbled into two French, of which one Charlotte knew from some weeks back. We found out we were heading on the same plane, and had the same final destination… and thus the epic journey started. Upon arriving in Veracruz, we got a bus-ticket at around 22 (7 hours drive to Oaxaca), which meant quite a few hours to spend in Veracruz.
Around 5 hours, dinner at the beach, lots of walking, and stocking up for a party at around 5 in the night (the time of arrival in Oaxaca) later, we got on the bus. Semi-comfortable trip, that left me with a slightly hurting neck (stupid “comfortable” chairs) and a convinced feeling that “Mean Machine” is indeed a better “popular sports-star gets busted for heavy drunk-driving, thrown into jail, where he forms a team of the inmates (including the “cool prisoners”, and the “chained insane beast”) to beat the guards’ team”-movie than “The Longest Yard”. And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that it was a Spanish-synced version I saw.
Anyway, we arrived at Oaxaca around 5, and joined the French and their friends for a few hours until we decided it was time to crash a hostel for some sleep (from 7 to 13 approximately). Needless to say, we didn’t get much done during that day, except drifting around a bit in the city, looking for things to do Monday/Tuesday, got a bit to eat… and semi-stoned a bit more, until joining the French again during the evening. To sum up the evening up fast: the French are (some of them at least) silly, insane and and a nice bunch.
I wrote earlier that I couldn’t quite put my finger on any exact differences between Guadalajara and Oaxaca. I found one – but it might be because of the close proximity to the center of the city: People are honking their car-horns like horny young rabbits on speed during mating-season. Combine that with the fact that houses are NOT isolated from sound here, and my frustration should be logical [insert large amounts of creative swearwords, colorful curses and not-for-the-weak terms of disgust here].
As a closing statement for Sunday, I would like to add that the addition of “You’re hot/sexy” at the end of every sentences (when speaking to a female or male, respectfully), is very splendid for
the “King’s Cup” every drinking game.