My hard hat clunked against the bus window as I watched Chris, his eyes closed, lounging under a tree, drinking Mango Boing. My coveralls and borrowed work boots were way too big, and wondered if Chris’ food poisoning was a fair trade for not having to visit another industrial factory in beautiful central Mexico. This was 2005.
Chris has gotten severe food poisoning in Mexico and Thailand.
I’ve gotten severe food poisoning in Egypt and Cambodia. That stuff is no joke.
So I knew I was tempting fate yesterday by eating all the food. I had pan dulce, Mexican horchata, a tiny gorditas de nata, a carnita with salsa and guacamole, guava juice, and a coffee (the regional favorite is a slow boiled roast with cinnamon).
Chris and I LOVED Valencian horchata in April in Spain. Spanish style is tiger nuts blended into a frappe-like consistency with sugar and cinnamon. The Mexican style is a rice base with the same additions. So it was fun to sip that over ice while wandering around the noisy, blazing, busy hilltop market.
And, safely from the next day, it seems like things are fine on the Montezuma end of things!
Omikuji—Poem-drawing at Meiji Shrine
1,000 Samurai at Nikko’s Grand Autumn Festival
Dinner and a Show
Little Pumpkins