Living in Mexico has been great for me. It has taught me to let go of some of my embarrassment and sound like an idiot in questionable Spanish and to eat things that would otherwise not cross my lips (anyone up for some local corn fungus? It grows on the corn cobs and looks, well, vile.). More than anything, however, the buses of Mexico City have affected how I handle transportation; riding the peseros to work daily has been like a vaccination for my otherwise miserable motion sickness. I've even become sufficiently acclimatized that I can occasionally read on the bus without thinking that I'm going to die. (Betcha can't tell where this is going!)
Despite this, however, the 2.5 hours bus ride to Taxco through the mountians was waaaay more than I could take. I almost made it all the way there -- we were within Taxco city limits, even -- when I finally lost it. As I clamped my hands over my mouth, Keating dashed to the bathroom at the back of the bus to grab me a barf bag (he had been blocking me in). Finding it locked, he sprinted to the front of the bus, where he proceeded to use broken Spanish and pantomime in a desperate bid to get the driver to understand what he needed. Fortunately, a woman in the front row not only figured out what he meant but also knew where the bags were stashed (they are apparently normally passed out with your free drink at boarding). Keating ran back to me, his hands filled with baggies and paper towels. It was just in time. Moments later, we pulled into the bus terminal. I have never in my life seen people get off a bus that quickly.
Once I felt well enough to walk under my own power again, Keating and I began to explore Taxco by finding a cafe and a pharmacy that sold Dramamine by the dose. Taxco is a beautiful town built into the sides of the mountains are reminds me of the Mexican interpretation of those famous Greek villages with tiered white homes with terracotta tile roofs stacked on upon another up the slopes. There are random arches and second-floor elevated walkways connecting buildings. The streets are cobbled and narrow, and many give up on the pretext of being a road and have entire patches of winding covered stairs connecting drivable stretches. Doorways open intermittently off of the street/stairs, leading into various silver shops and markets.
I'm not much of a shopper, but I have a weakness for jewelry. Keating, who hates shopping, is thrilled to know that he is already covered for our anniversary, my birthday, and Christmas, not to mention Christmas for most of his relatives.
We finally worked our way up through the maze to the central plaza, with its stunning 240 year old Spanish Baroque style cathedral. It was a beautiful, sunny day so we decided to sit on a shady park bench in the plaza and relax while we drank some water. This was a splendid plan for a good 8 minutes, or right up until a bird pooped on my leg. Keating helped me clean it up, laughing at me for my bad luck. Sure that lightning (and poop) never strike twice, we decided to sit for a little longer (to be fair, the bird appeared to have left). Maybe two minutes later, that f-ing bird pooped on my shoulder. As I howled indignantly, Keating snatched the remaining paper towels out of my hand: the bird had managed to get his nose! Thoroughly grossed out but laughing hysterically, we abandoned our shady bench and wandered back into the markets in search of a money clip for Keating and some ice cream to take away some of the emotional pain from the bird attack.
At 6:30 pm, we boarded our bus back to Mexico City. We happily took our seats, free soft drink and peanuts, and Dramamine (well, I did anyway), and settled in for our movies on the return trip (much longer due to Sunday night traffic entering the city). We had our gross-out moments, but it was a wonderful day trip. We've already started discussing how much fun it would be to go vacationing with some friends or relatives, hopping buses between beautiful colonial Mexican towns and ending up with a relaxing weekend at the beach. Any takers? We promise to not let you sit on the magic park bench, and I swear I will take my Dramamine (the drugged trip home was wonderfully uneventful). In the meantime, we're already planning our next weekend escape to Acapulco.
***** Note: True to form, Keating and I both forgot our cameras at home. These pictures were totally stolen off of the web.
