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Oaxaca the first

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With my lame but stomach-friendly chicken broth.

After serious study, I’ve concluded the following about Mexican road rules: there are none. Dodge or die. Many of the main highways are one and a half lanes in each direction, and everyone drives wherever they fit. The road will yawn out or creep in at will, and people pass everywhere, all the time.

One stretch of highway was filled with butterflies. The bus drove through clouds of them, spattering them all over the windshield.

Oacaxa is beautiful – the streets are narrow and cobbled and the buildings old and intricate and every colour, with wrought iron windows and huge old doors like the buildings in Paris.

My stomach was in serious rebellion this morning, so most of the day was spent on a strict diet of flat coke and ready salted chips (it sounds bad, but it’s proven effective over many years of annoying IBS) – but I did eat a grasshopper.

It was lime flavoured and crunchy.

Grasshopperia.

I could spend a lot of time in this town. The markets are insane – selling chilies and meats and cheeses and, of course, huge bins of fried grasshoppers. There are chocolate factories, where you can go and buy the raw ingredients and then churn (is that the right term?) your own chocolate. The samples we tried were amazing, like chocolate condensed – less sweet but more powerful. Delicious.

Just drank only my second glass of wine in five days. I’m so parched I’m like a desert – but the margaritas are delicious. It’s storming outside again. Ivan has promised good coffee tomorrow, and I’m considering throwing myself in the adorable hotel pool before we head off to see some ruins… maybe it’s time for bed.

Ian quote of the day:
 “Have you tried the English delicacy ‘Yorkshire Pudding’?”

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Writer of things. Annoyer of cats.

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