Day 6: Oaxaca

We left Mexico City at about 3:30 Christmas day, a little bit hungover from the high class Christmas party we attended the night before, and hoping that the holiday traffic would be a light. After some initial technical malfunctions with the fuse in the stereo system of Carlos’ car, we hit the mean streets (aka “highways”) of Mexico City. The traffic wasn’t bad, but in true Mexico City fashion we got caught up in a number of choke-points that slowed us down. Whoever designed the highway system in Mexico City should be hunted down, tarred and feathered, then forced to drive every kilometer of his monstrous creation daily. It looks like it was created by a six year old, roads merging with other roads, bridges randomly scattered about to ease congestion on the roads underneath them, required U-turns to access important roads and basically everything else a city of 30 million people need to have congested roads. After an hour long slog through D.F., we finally got on the toll road to Puebla, which was the exact opposite of the roads in the city. It was mostly four lanes, no potholes or topés (speed bumps-a national obsession in Mexico), and fast. The only hiccups came from the tolls, which were surprisingly frequent and expensive as they ranged from 30 to 80 pesos ($2.75 - $6.50). We cruised through Puebla in about an hour and a half and then got on the smaller, not as well maintained road to Oaxaca, which had even more casetas (tolls). By this time it was starting to get dark so we weren’t able to appreciate the mountains that we were driving over.

We arrived in Oaxaca at about 9, an hour later than we anticipated, but it was worth it because we stopped to buy some tacos de cecina (salted beef) at a little hotel on the way and also to buy some moonshine mezcal from a little tienda at a caseta on the edge of Oaxaca. The tacos were good, the mezcal was scary because we weren’t sure how safe it was…but we proceeded to drink some anyways. Worn out from being in the car all day, and not having a place to sleep for the night, we headed towards zocalo to see if we could score a cheap hostel for the night. The Lonely Planet book that I brought helped us locate one pretty quickly, but it cost about $14 a night and, being too rich for our blood, decided to shop around for an alternative. Downtown Oaxaca has a ridiculous amount of hotels, and since it was Christmas, they were all empty. The Lonely Planet book was from 2006, and about 1/3 of the places that were in it had already shut down or changed ownership. We ended up staying at a quiet little hostel that offered us a room for 80 pesos a person and had a pretty nice rooftop to hang out on. Since we were the only tenants, the place was good for sleeping, not partying. After a quick change of clothes, we ran out to get some grub. There was a little red stand in front of the market that sold a Oaxacan specialty, tlyudas, Carlos had eaten there before and recommended them highly. A tlyuda is basically an enormous toastada that is cooked on a grill with quesillo (queso de oaxaca), beans, and then whatever choice of meat is offered. The shell is crispy, and the inside warm and gooey. Add some salsa, fold it in half and it makes one hell of a late night snack. They cost about 30-40 pesos, but they are big so usually you only need to eat one.

After stuffing our faces with tlyudas, we decided to go find some trouble...so we went bar hopping. Unfortunately, most of the bars that were around were empty (Christmas), but we found one that had a pretty young, metropolitan crowd and they served hookahs. Beers (chelas) were cheap, so we got down to business. The bar itself was cool, it had retro signs all over the walls, my favorite was one encouraging gringos to ride with Pancho Villa for bags of gold. The DJ that was playing music that sounded like it was from the bar in Star Wars with all the crazy looking aliens, it was kind of surreal to be an alien in a bar with that music playing. By the time we got a table they were out of hookahs, so we opted for a bottle of tequila instead. Armed with a bottle of El Jimador, a bunch of Frescas, some ice and glasses, we were ready to party. We stayed until the bar closed, having finished our bottle and met some locals who knew of an afterbars spot, so we walked/stumbled there. The bar was a little dive about 8 blocks from the first bar, so we were hopelessly lost when we arrived. We walked inside, and it was like one of those scenes from the movies where someone out of place walks into a bar and the whole place gets quiet and looks at the door. Three tall gueros walking into a bar typically reserved for locals, looking back it is funny, but at the time I was drunk and afraid I might get capped. Some girls had come with us, and after we drank a couple of chelas they started to get uneasy and wanted to go. The place was a little bit intimidating…so we got the girls a cab and then got ourselves one to go back to the hostel. So far that night stands as our most crazy party night on this trip…which is crazy because we didn’t even do all that much.