The day after the day after…
You always feel worse the second day after something than the first day. You’re usually still buzzing from the event the night before so you feel ok… But it’s the second day when everything is out of your system that you come crashing down. I can only guess it was the thrill of Delta flight 573 that kept me going all day yesterday. Today was a vastly different story. Absolutely no energy what-so-ever. I spent most of the day vegetating in my bed listening to music in my little secret rooftop loft hideaway. I made about 27 attempts at getting up and was eventually successful at around 2.30 pm. That’s the latest I think I’ve gotten up since the nineties. But I keep telling myself: IT’S OK… IT”S A HOLIDAY!
He’s a really nice guy and like all Mexicans, very friendly. Even though he says he’s unemployed, he seems to be continually running around doing one thing or another. Amongst other things, he said that for the past three years he and bunch of mates have been working on a proposal which they hope to sell to the government on how to centralise and improve Guadalajara’s public transport system. I may have misunderstood but from what I did understand, it’s just an idea that they’re hoping to sell. They’re not actually designing or proposing to build new subway lines or bus routes. They’re just coming up with an idea. Hmmm… Three years just to come up with an idea. I don’t know. Make your own judgements on that one.
After that I decided to give the dice another roll and go and find a hair dresser to get my hair cut. I know what you’re all saying… “Martin, you’ve been disappointed more times by foreign hairdressers than fat women have been disappointed by Jenny Craig. And yet you keep trying. Why do you continue to do it to yourself?” I know but I was desperate. I suddenly hated my hair and couldn’t live with it any longer. Hair, be gone! But actually, one thing that really stands out here is what gorgeous hair all Mexicans have and that all Mexican guys (well, most anyway) have REALLY COOL haircuts. So I figure the odds are in my favour. Anyway, I went for a wander ’round my ‘hood, ’round the downtown area and the Centro Historico but couldn’t find any hairdressers. Eventually I gave up (took it as a sign) and just plonked myself down in front of the Guadalajara Cathedral and watched the world go by for a while.
Next, it was time for lunch. A deliciously comforting pozole verde…
I’m toying with the idea of making the pilgrimage to Tequila tomorrow for the day (the town , that is, not the bottle. Although I’m sure the bottle will make a starring appearance) … But it involves early morning wake-ups and busses so we’ll see.