Tlaquepaque

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I was determined on this trip not to go to any touristy places but already on day 4 I caved in. Last night’s so-called mini weekend was a bit of fizzer. Not too many places were actually open. Most of the bars on Priciliano Sanchez were open but very few people in them. And what people there were went home early. The jet-lag is wearing off and I wasn’t too tired and feeling a bit restless. Although for future reference, the Blood of Christ starters followed by bottles Dos Equis is not a good combination. So I decided to hop on a bus and head to San Pedro Tlaquepaque.   


It used to be a city in it’s own right but Guadalajara spread so much that now it’s just a suburb of Guadalajara. And actually, it’s very close to the city centre. Apparently the name comes from an Aztec language and means, “place above clay land”. Hence, it’s famous for pottery and handicrafts. It’s a cute place, quite small with lots of galleries around and a pottery museum aswell…


  

Lots of nice restaurants too…



I stopped in one and ordered one of the specialities “Birria de Ternera”. Again it was a bit of a roll of the dice. I knew ternera was veal but didn’t know what birria was. It turns out it was much the same as what I had at Mama’s Stews yesterday but Mama’s was waaaaaaay better though. This one came served with hot fluffy tortillas and some chopped raw onion on the side.

I’m so easily talked into anything… The waiter took my order and asked, “What would you like to drink? Tequila???”


And I’m like, “Yeah, ok”.

It was actually pretty good but it means that my first meal of the day was just meat, bread and tequila.


After my meat and tequila breakfast, I promenaded myself around the town and stumbled upon these guys…


Doing the “Danza de los Voladores”. It’s an ancient ritual which was created, to end a drought. “At least 450 years ago there was a severe drought that brought hunger to the people. The gods were withholding the rain because the people had neglected them. The ceremony was created, to appease the gods and bring back the rains.” Five guys climb up a 30 metre pole and spin around for a while. One guy plays the flute while the other four descend to the ground by ropes.

My next encounter was with these two lovely teenage guys, Javier and José…

They were in the central square shining shoes and persuaded me to let them clean my shoes. I was kind of reluctant since my shoes weren’t particularly dirty and they’re made of suede. But hey, you’ve got to support the local economy so I agreed.


In retrospect, I should’ve just given the money and saved them the work. I think they basically just wet my shoes and moved what dirt there was around. And because it was a cool overcast day, I ended up walking around for the rest of the afternoon with wet shoes. But they were both very well-meaning.

We chatted a bit in my pigeon Spanish. Javier (on the left) is 18 and his brother Jose (on the right) is 16. They come from Tijuana but left because they didn’t like it there and so came to Guadalajara to live with their grandparents. They come to the square in Tlaquepaque in the afternoon after school to earn money. The both need to buy new backpacks for school. The price for the shoe clean was 20 pesos but I gave them 50. I felt like I should have given more.

And that was it!!


Back to my secret rooftop hideaway!

 

Day 3 Guadalajara: Drinking the blood of Christ

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So, it turns out that the day after the day after the day after is actually worse than the second day after! Or maybe that’s just me … The main problem is just the jet-lag. I was tired all day yesterday but held off sleeping ’till nighttime. Of course the minute I tried to sleep I was wide awake and only managed to doze off at around 5 a.m. Miguel in all his design wisdom hasn’t put any blinds or curtains on the ALL GLASS fronted ALL WHITE loft… It’s on on the roof and there’s a brick wall around the balcony so privacy is no problem… But as soon the sun comes up, it’s like trying to sleep in a Seven-Eleven. Read: IMPOSSIBLE.

I got out of bed around 10 a.m. but without my usual morning bucket of Japanese green tea followed by a celery, carrot and beetroot juice chaser I was feeling pretty rough. So an excursion to Tequila Town was out of the question. It’s about two hours by bus. Apparently the busses are good but the roads are not! So it was another low-key kind of a day just hangin’ ’round ma ‘hood for me.

At about 11 a.m. I downed a handful of “magic beans” a.k.a raw organically grown Peruvian cacao beans and hot-footed it down the road to go and brunch. I made sure I packed two packets of beans… I think it’s a sure sign you’re getting old when you start travelling with your own food, like all those old Japanese people who travel to Paris with a suitcase full of cup ramen.

There are a lot of really funky eateries around here with simple down to earth home-cooking made with lots of “amor”. I went straight “Mama’s Stews” to get me a heapin’ helpin’ of mama’s love…


You could feel the love as soon as you walked in and mama just radiated pure love!


And here is my plate of “amor”… A delicious plate of stew served with refried beans, a paella-esque rice and salad.


It’s always refreshing to travel in non-Australian parts of the world. I get such a kick out of the lack of rules and regulations. I always make a point of walking down the street swiggin’ a can of beer at any time and going to a club completely wasted… Just because I can! It was interesting to see Mama sloshing about in all the sauces and rice with her bare hands. Cleanlinss is good but I think we sometimes obsess over it and “use by” dates and the such a bit too much. Having said that though, I have been guzzling probiotic yogurt by the bucket load… Just in case!

After mama’s love, I went and explored the other end of my street, Calle Priciliano Sanchez…

As luck would have it, stumbled upon this scene…

This was it! This was my opportunity! Time to roll the dice again! I really love the humble down-to-earth uncomplicatedness of Mexicans. I went in and in my basic Spanish pointed to my hair and said, “Short here, here and here and here short also but a bit longer.” No problem! And wham bam, thank you MarTAN, I was in and out with a big smile on my face and looking fabulous!


I’m sure in the Sydney the same haircut would have been served up with a huge helping of attitude and there would have been tears before bedtime.

That was about it. I spent most of the rest of what was left of the day trying to find an automatic teller machine… Or “any time money” as my students like to say. They’re few and far between here it seems.

And now I’m back in my secret hideaway drinking “Blood of Christ”.

Yes, that’s right… Drinking Blood of Christ…


It’s ok. It’s sweet wine (not my preference)… I guess it’s intended for communion. I bought it just because I wanted to try Mexican wine and be able to say that I went to Mexico and drank the blood of Christ!

And now I’m off to see if what they say about those Wednesday mini-weekends here is true.

Day 2 Guadalajara

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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!

By the way, this is what my cozy rooftop loft looks like..


I got up and went downstairs and had a chat to Miguel, the architect who designed and built this place…


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.


A lot of places in the downtown area pipe out music. It’s all really cheesy, old style romantic, Latin music but strangely I loved it!

Next, it was time for lunch. A deliciously comforting pozole verde…


And that was my day!!  Back to my rooftop hideaway for more hibernation and contemplation.

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.

Stay tuned!

So, just how fabulous is Guadalajara anyway?

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Pretty darn fabulous is my first impression!

The home of Tequila? Big tick in that box! Home of mariachi? Hmmm … Take it or leave it. The Mexican capital of money laundering? Adds a certain “je ne sais quoi” to the flavour of any city. The most attractive people in Mexico? Hmmm… I’ve heard that one before! There’s a pattern emerging. It seems to be a “second city” thing… But anyway, if it’s true, then a HUGE tick in that box! Who wants to be surrounded by fuglys? And… They have “after-parties” here and a mini-weekend club night on Wednesdays! Big, big tick!
In all seriousness though, I only just arrived this morning so I can’t say too much but my first impression of the city is really positive. While it lacks the visual first impression punch of Mexico DF, it’s got a really nice mellow, friendly, low key vibe to it. And the people here are super nice. I just bought something in a convenience store and as I approached the counter, the cashier said “hello” and asked me ever so earnestly, “How are you?” Like Sally Jessie Raphael interviewing a woman about her mastectomy. I’ll pause here for a minute so you young kids can go and Wikipedia Sally Jessie Raphael. That was a blast from the past!

The night flight to here on Delta was interesting. Vastly different to the night flight on Aeromexico to DF I took last year. Whereas Aeromexico felt quite calm, the flight attendants were serious, I didn’t look out of place and it could have been a flight anywhere in the world, Delta was … well, er… Let’s just say, if there had been chickens running down the aisle, it wouldn’t have looked out of place. I stood out like a sore thumb and the flight attendant responded to every passenger request with, “What’s up, baby?”.

I don’t understand why they always board people with disabilities or who need assistance first. To me, it would make more sense to board them last so they can sit outside where it’s more comfortable for longer. I guess it depends on the flight and the airline, but Delta Five-Seven-Three from LAX to GDL was certainly no joy ride.

Anyway, as luck would have it I had two specially assisted people sitting next to me. Let’s call them Mama and Papa. I don’t know what Papa’s problem was… Probably just that he was married to her. Mama, amongst other things, looked like she had just fled from the set of the Mexico’s The Biggest Loser in a wheelchair. It had taken all the flight attendants to lift her up and pour her into the seat and wedge her between the arm rests. She now formed a human barricade in that row of seats. Then when I arrived and tried to get to my seat, Papa and Sonny-boy couldn’t wedge her back out. I stood firm though. I was getting my window seat whatever it took. Mind you, there weren’t actually any spare seats anyway had we not been able to un-wedge mama. But we did and we eventually took off and got to Guadalajara.

I’m staying in a kind of loft apartment… This young architect by the name of Miguel has designed and built four small loft apartments on the roof or a building. I’m not exactly sure what the business is down below but the apartments are pretty cool and so is Miguel. This a view from the apartment…


And this is the building from the street…


I didn’t really do much today. I’m going to explore and take more photos later. I spent most of the day just lounging around eating tacos and drinking Tecate beer. From what I’ve seen of the area where I’m staying… And I’m in Centro… Actually a little bit left of Centro… It’s got a kind of Surry Hills-before-the-property-developers-and-yuppies-moved-in vibe to it. I like!

More tomorrow.

Off on a new adventure

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Take me away to LA!! (Even if it is only to transit)

I’m going with the “flying kangaroo”… As torturous as 14 hours non-stop in an aeroplane is, it’s still preferable to making a stop over. Maybe. It’s always a bit of a roll of the dice with Qantas. You could be flying the friendly skies or you could be flying Kath and Kim airways. I remember the last time I flew Qantas… It was to Hong Kong and it was my first (and so far only) time on the A380. My allocated seat number was 80. Now, never having been on an A380 before, seat number 80 sounds to me like it’s going to be way down the back of the plane. Of course, when I got on the plane, there was no-one to guide me to my seat and I figured I’d need to walk quite a long way before I would need to start looking at seat numbers. Little did I realise that they start numbering the seats from the front of the top deck, so “80” on the bottom deck is actually fairly close to the front. By the time I started looking at seat numbers, I had already walked past it. Oh em gee!! Then, suddenly Miss Flight Attendant asks what seat I’m looking for… When I tell her it’s “80”, she rolls her eyes, lets out the loudest and longest groan like it was the most idiotic thing anyone has ever done, points her finger toward the front of the aircraft and whines, “You’ve gone TOO FAR…It’s back THAT WAY!” Clearly (to her anyway) I shouldn’t be allowed on aircraft.

Today’s flight has been relatively good. It doesn’t feel too much like being trapped inside an episode of Kath and Kim…Except that they made a point of handing out menu cards at the beginning of the flight but then didn’t actually serve what was on the card. They then had to tell everyone individually what the choice was and we’re getting quite frustrated that people were asking for food that was on the menu.

But…

Qantas has never killed anyone! That’s what we proudly tell anyone who dares to bad-mouth the flag carrier of our nation… Or maybe that’s just me. Last year at the place where I was working, one of the employees was a Chinese woman… She was from Shanghai and her name began with an “E”. In order to protect her identity, I’ll just refer to her as “Ecstasy”. At that time, I was considering flying somewhere on China Eastern and so I asked Ecstasy what it was like. She recoiled in horror and gasped, “Oh my God it’s soooooo bad! Don’t fly with them… It’s EVEN WORSE than Qantas!” I’m sure it is worse than Qantas, I was just surprised that she used Qantas as the comparison and the way she put it. We all know Qantas is a bit rough… But hey, we can say it. Non-Australians can’t.

Incidentally, Ecstasy is the same person who shoved toilet paper in my face when one day I asked her if she knew where a guy called Pedro was. The boss had asked me to find his guy and send him to her office. I had never met him and had no idea what he looked like. So, I thought I’d just ask Ecstasy. “Hey Ecstasy, do you know where Pedro is?” … “Toilet paper? You want toilet paper? Here, toilet paper.” … “No, no, no, Pedro” … “Here, toilet paper.” I can’t remember how the conversation ended but I eventually found Pedro and managed to score some toilet paper in the process.

 

Nada más surreal que la realidad

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My virgin blog… And my virgin blog post!! Woohoo!!

I decided that there wasn’t already enough unnecessary information on the Internet. Clearly, there is a need for more… So with my ramblings on this blog, I’m hoping to fill that gap.

OK… I was being sarcastic.

Actually, to be honest, I feel a smidge guilty about releasing another yet blog into the world. We’re already living in a world of information overload. You click onto the news, you’re bombarded with stories of terrorism, murders, natural disasters… You click onto social media and you’re bombarded with everyone’s fabulous life..Everyone is a blog writer, reality star, starting a new business, expressing their undying love for their “friend” on Facebook, in a new relationship or incarcerated… And we’re expected to care and have an opinion about ALL OF IT!!

I worried about ISIS, I cared about earthquakes, signed every petition, supported every new business, gushed over every new relationship, cried more over the death of convicted heroin traffickers than deaths in my own family…. Eventually my brain ran out of bandwidth. I had too many windows open and it crashed! So I’ve been taking time out to reclaim ownership of my mind. I’ve been carefully filtering what goes in and reminding myself, “Yes, the it’s shocking what’s going on in Syria but I don’t have a solution. The earthquakes are terrible but what can I do? Fly there and start shovel sand? It’s great you’ve embraced veganism, but I don’t care… And it’s OK not to care!

So, it’s kind of hypocritical I guess starting a new blog, given what I just said. Instead of helping to find a solution to the problem, I’m merely contributing to it. My disclaimer is though, I have no sense of entitlement… I admit this is just rambling to help fill the time while I’m away. Afterall, there’s only so much rum or tequila you can drink, photos you can take or colonial arquitecture you can wonder over. I’m doing as a kind of diary aswell, for my own record. So if you too have ran out of bandwidth, don’t read! Turn off Facebok and go and do Bikram!