The room is air conditioned anyway, there's a little control panel in the kitchen.
18:05. After half an hour I went and asked again and got it sorted. Walked down Paseo de la Reforma, popped into Sanborn's in hope of finding a copy of The Economist (no joy, maybe cos it's Wednesday), got a bit lost (hotel had no map of course) but know roughly where I am and have GPS until I get mugged. At Cafe something (they have taken the menu so I can no longer tell) between PdlR & Londres. Loads of fucking touts offering what I assume are 'strip club' type cards. Still, I am here and I've ordered a steak & chips and sufficient unto the day.
19:45. After wandering round in circles and possibly starting to get recognised by the damn table dancing touts, I have found a dullish if acceptable bar on Belgrano just off Paseo de la Reforma. I asked the waitress to make sure it was not a table dancing bar.
She says a michelada is always with lemon, a cubana or something I can't quite catch is with Worcester sauce. Now given Zuhamy told me the latter was a michelada, and I also ordered micheladas which definitely had the sauce in in some parts of Mexico, I suspect a regional variation. I did try to ask the waitress about this but it wasn't clear if she said I was wrong or she didn't know.
One of the waitresses has quite a short skirt which normally wouldn't bother me but I am on my guard. My gut feel is this area sucks a bit for normal drinking but I haven't really had a chance to consult my guide book. Until I feel my way somehow to asking places to call me a taxi or something it seems best to stick round here. I feel a bit conspicuous somehow but sod it.
Still, call it what you will, this *is* a proper 'michelada'.
20:25. While downloading some more books from Project Gutenberg last night I stumbled across "Scouting for girls" and am reading it now. The first aid section is giving me the jitters. I really shouldn't read this sort of thing. I am feeling irrationally vulnerable now, especially as it's starting to get dark.
It's cool really, I mean, I am five minutes from home, I have my GPS and I might hope I am immune from anything more than a straightforward mugging as I have no cards on my person, not even in my hidden belt. (This in itself feels odd. I am used to having a card secreted about my person to meet emergency cash needs. But it's probably prudent and I guess should the worst happen, I can get a taxi back to the hotel without the driver knowing I'm broke and then get some cash from my room. He can wait in reception if he's fussed. Or for that matter, the hotel can damn well fork out from the MXN550 cash deposit if it's an emergency.)
I don't plan on a super late night tonight. I expect to be tired after getting up at 6 with about four hour's sleep, despite the hour's sleep on the plane. That also gives me a fighting chance of getting up earlyish to explore. I want to investigate the metro, I suspect it doesn't run that late but it's probably a reasonably safe way to get home even lateish at night. The guide book implies the main risk is pickpocketing, which has to be the best kind of crime to experience if none isn't an option.
It's weird, I'm sort of as worried as I was in Sao Paulo and Rio but in a different way. Maybe I feel just slightly more in control here as I do have some limited grasp of the language.
As often before, I do wonder if being on my own is a minor advantage in making me less obviously a tourist. It's probably safer overall to be in a group but chattering away in English probably makes being a tourist more obvious. While I have my mouth shut I don't think I'm too clearly non-local. Of course I guess locals can get mugged too, but it's not as if I'm overly smartly dressed so I might like to delude myself I don't appear to be a walking piggy bank...
Oh, I managed to break one of my 500 notes at the restaurant earlier, which was something. I think I will try to swap most of my change for another 500 note until I get rid of nearly all of them, accumulating more useful smaller bills in my hidden belt and/or back at the hotel.
If anyone's reading this I'm sure it seems some mix of paranoid and pathetic. But sod it.
The staff seem just a touch over-attentive. I am sure it's due to genuine helpfulness and/or a desire for a decent tip from the tourist :-) but it is oddly disconcerting.
I am seriously short of memory card space to take photos. I will have to see if I can find two clueful internet cafes tomorrow, but that seems like a tall order. On another trip, if I still want to send copies of my photos home by post as a backup (as already waffled about, I plan to keep local copies on a big USB pen drive) I almost think it might be worth the hassle to bring a portable DVD recorder (and a few discs, which I could replace relatively easily as I used them up - though it might be best to bring a fair supply to avoid problems with locating robust cases for them) so I can do it myself. They aren't that big or heavy and although I want to travel lighter next time I think something like that would be less nuisance than even a single book. It shouldn't be a big deal to get it done in an internet cafe, but it seems to be amazingly difficult in practice.
(I suppose in principle I could get a regular laptop with a DVD recorder built in. But I do prefer having a cheap netbook. It's less money gone should theft or damage occur. I suspect the combined weight is still a win, and the fact the bulk is split would ease packing. The smaller hotel room safes also *just* take my netbook (with a bit of fiddling to get the thing through the door on the smallest ones), whereas a laptop (no matter how expensive and thin, it's the other dimensions that matter) would not always go in.)
The neon sign in the window here says 'Pub Corona', but I wonder if that is just like a sign saying 'Pub Fosters' which one might at least imagine in the UK, or actually the name of the place. It doesn't really matter of course, but I will try to remember to look at the bill when I get it.
Oh, when I kept popping down to reception to chase up the safe issue, when the porter/doorman chap was at the reception, I would speak to the woman on the desk in Spanish (admittedly imperfect, but intelligible - at one point I said I was waiting for someone to 'make repairs' to the safe to avoid having to dig out my dictionary, I figured it would get the point across - I made sure to make what I hoped were "I am expressing myself badly" gestures at the time - and it did), she would reply to me in Spanish and then the doorman would give me a translation in English. That was a little bit weird. I didn't actually need it but I guess he was just trying to be helpful. There's never anyone to do that when I really do get stuck of course...
21:35. They do flavored beers here. I just ordered a half litre of the grape flavoured. It is served rather like an oversized cocktail with a stick on top with some chunks of fruit. The glass rim seems to be salted too. It's drinkable but a bit weird. I wonder if this is just a bit of grape cordial dumped in with a regular beer or something brewed differently.
The chunks on the stick appear to be 'fizzy' sweets (like those fizzy cola bottle sweets you get in the UK, but obviously not cola flavoured). Weird.
Oh, mentally harping back to the 'taxi in the street' issue it occurs to me the VW Beetle taxis which are quite common here must really suck. They're two door jobs FFS, so once in the back you're well and truly stuck. Maybe it's the custom to sit in the front (I mean, even if you assume the taxi driver is a certified saint, it would somehow seem weird to have him tip the seat forward to let you into the back), although I am sure I read some general travel advice somewhere saying you shouldn't sit in the front with the driver. That makes some sort of intuitive sense, at least in a four-door car, but I find it hard to totally justify it. I mean, yes, the driver can't reach you in the back, but if he's driving can he really spare limbs to attack you? I suppose he could have an arm free, but I might naively hope with all limbs free as front seat passenger you'd win even if he's a much bigger guy. And sitting in the front would eliminate the film-style mob trick of having people get in on
either side of you in the back to really hem you in. :-)
And also, I have been in the back of taxis (one in Panama was like this) where the rear window winding handles had been removed. So in principle the driver could put the child locks on and you'd be trapped in the back with little chance of escape. I don't think cars are manufactured with child locks on the front doors. Mind you, this is all based on recollections of my own childhood way back when. In today's world of electronic door locks maybe the front has no major advantage in that sense. I really don't know.
This is just random speculation of course, albeit of a slightly paranoid kind (though it does sort of interest me on purely abstract grounds as well). I'm not getting in a random taxi unless I am absolutely desperate and I think I'll stick with the general advice to avoid the front where possible.
While trying to fend off the strip club touts earlier, I found myself wishing I could say "no, gracias" or some suitable short phrase in a proper native-speaker accent (preferably Mexican, but anything clearly native speaker would do). I wonder how much effort it would take to learn one phrase with the proper accent, given a suitable teacher? And would it make the refusal more definite? I suspect it would. If you sounded more local they'd probably be less likely to think you might be interested. Wheras when I say "no, gracias" they sometimes switched to English and harangued me as I attempted to get away. (I didn't respond. Sod being rude. I figure I just *might* pass as a non tourist on a muttered two word phrase, and in any case I could be French or something for all they know, so I don't have to admit to speaking English. The last thing I want is to stand there having to justify not wanting their services and maybe having my pocket picked while it happens.)
22:10. Switching back to micheladas. I quizzed the waitress and she says the ones with Worcester sauce (I think that's what it is; I know they call it 'salsa ingles(a?)' here) are 'michelada cubana'. Yet the fact remains I have ordered them just as 'michelada' in some places before.
(On this 'new' scheme, 'michelada' is just beer with lime juice. Which is cool too, so I can afford to experiment. :-) )
I am a bit cold. I am wearing a short sleeved shirt and left the fleece at home partly as I saw no need and partly to reduce the impact of theft (I mean, I'd probably have been walking round with it tied round my waste, for an easy snatch and run). It's not the weather, it's the ceiling fan. Still, it's OK.
Yes, I can be very paranoid, as if anyone reading this didn't already know. But to paraphrase Psmith, who was probably quoting someone else, it's never a good idea to confuse the unlikely with the impossible. That way, I just may have a brainy scheme on hand to avoid or deal with the problem, unlikely as it seems. :-)
I am onto the 'lost in the woods' kind of section of Scouting for Girls. More jitters. :-) The analogy with my current situation is both entertaining and disturbing. :-)
I am reminded by reading the book that I've often thought it would be handy to have a small compass on me. For instance, when I left the hotel this afternoon I had memorised a tiny bit of the map, but I had no idea which way I was facing and had to take a 50-50 guess and see which street I ended up in. With my limited sense of direction, if I'm not careful I usually manage to get lost by the time I've oriented myself if I guess wrong. The GPS will tell you, of course, but it takes fucking forever to lock on when first powered up and I usually keep it turned off to avoid running the batteries down.
I suppose a GPS watch would be a nice gadget to have (avoiding all that conspicuous glaring at a bright yellow handheld unit), although I have an idea they must run through batteries like crazy and also struggle a bit to get a signal due to the small aerial(s). I am sure the technology will improve even if I'm right, something to bear in mind for a future trip or just as a cool gadget if I ever feel like splurging.
You know, I do find myself wondering if feeling a bit cold is helping make me jittery. On the same grounds that (apparently scientifically supported, at least in some cases) e.g. smiling makes you feel more cheerful, maybe feeling cold and very slightly shivery evokes feelings of nervousness. This may be bollocks, but at least it's interesting bollocks. Yeah, that'll be it. Once I step outside the bar into the warm night air I will feel fine. :-)
Don't get me wrong, I'm not trembling in my boots (or heavily decaying Hush Puppies, to be precise :-) ) but I don't exactly relish the prospect of getting back even though I am practically sure I can find it without the GPS and it is a few minutes away.
Honestly, as I probably already said, this "you can't get a taxi on the street safely" strikes at the core of my being. As a general rule I work on the assumption it doesn't matter if I get lost or end up somewhere dodgy or even just start to feel irrationally nervous about where I am or get drunk, because as long as I have the price of a cab (and I make sure I do)I can almost snap my fingers and be sorted. (Yeah, you can't always get one, but as a general rule you're in with a fair chance in a city.) It makes the place seem a hell of a lot more hostile to feel I can't do that. As far as I remember, you could more or less trust the cabs even in Rio and Sao Paulo, and despite some people telling me otherwise (so the truth is unclear) I didn't worry about it in Buenos Aires either.
I tell you, if I ran the place I'd be hiring ex-special forces chaps to take taxis at random with a licence to kill on the slightest provocation. You know, just as a mild deterrent, and maybe to reduce the scope of the problem.
They could also maybe cause mild flesh wounds to any drivers who tried to overcharge while they were at it.
While the taxi situation sucks and is something I can't risk, having been advised explicitly about it, I suspect my nerves are in part due to novelty. I felt perfectly safe in Panama City on my second sojourn there, and while I suspect not being in Casco Viejo helped, even during my first sojourn I rapidly de-jittered after the first day. I always overreact to warnings in guide books.
Just fired up the GPS for a check and I am 2411km from my hotel in Panama City. Quite a cab ride even if I could trust them. :-)
Anyway, I am 347m straight line from my hotel. As I say, not that far. If they aren't closing I may push it slightly tonight after all unless I start to feel tired. At the risk of making it an excuse for drinking, I should face my fears :-) and I doubt it's significantly more dangerous to walk home at 1am than midnight.
I can't help thinking being mugged, even at gunpoint, is probably less scary than I imagine it to be, simply because in these specialised areas of fear and uncertainty I have an unusally prolific imagination. ;-)
Hmm, they seem to be putting tables on chairs, or rather vice versa. So I guess I will be leaving after this one anyway. Or I could go to a strip club, if only I could manage to find one. :-)
23:30. A very short walk nearly home. Streets (people, not car, wise) rather deserted for one of the world's major urban centres before midnight, even given it's Wednesday, but I didn't feel too much at risk, rightly or wrongly. Found my way home without GPS. Am at Papa Bill's Saloon on the corner of Guadalquivir and Rio Lerma, the latter being the street my hotel is on. (And the former being the river running through Seville, if memory serves, which is slightly cool since I have seen it. I wonder where the Lerma is. I suspect it's in Mexico.) One guy inside is wearing a white cowboy hat. It's fairly busy here, unlike 'Pub Corona' (I forgot to check the bill as I was feeling a little hurried - 176 and I just paid 200 for a moderately generous tip). I noted this little bar/restaurant cluster when I wandered out earlier but at the time wanted to venture a little further afield. Took a while to get service but I have a beer coming and as my hotel is in the same street and it seems prett
y busy I am not overly concerned. I picked this place solely because it seemed busy, the smaller places nearby may well still be open but I saw no point pushing it.
Oh, while it's by no means unpleasant and I think it was the fan before, the night is cool with a light breeze. I may well wear the fleece out another night, it isn't essential but if I'm wearing it it's no hassle and the extra pockets minimise the amount of shit in my trouser pockets.
Oh, I just turned the GPS off and this place is 120m from the hotel. A lot could happen in 120m :-) but I think it's cool.
"Ridin'" (Dirty) is playing but it's so indistinct it took me a few seconds to be sure it wasn't "White and Nerdy".
"All the young dudes" now! Variety baby...
23:55. Shit. Just got back from the bog and they have dumped a big bowl of tortilla chips on the table complete with four small 'chutney' type dishes. This is gonna cost, this cannot be a typical 'botana'.
Interesting if slightly odd anti-prejudice ad on the stairs up to the bog showing (and this may turn out to be prejudice but as far as I'm concerned it's just a description) a black and white photo of a chubby white-ish woman playing pool. I mean, do Mexicans flip out if fat women play pool? By local standards I must be a paragon of political correctness. I am sure I am missing the point. (I took a photo, if it comes out will upload it.) The caption says 'at night, all cats are brownish grey'. (I only know it was an anti-prejudice ad for sure because of some blurb underneath.) I am primarily intrigued to see Spanish has a word (which I had to look up) for 'brownish grey' (pardo/parda).
I went into the women's toilets by mistake. Admittedly there was a crudely carved female figurehead on the door which I overlooked but it had an 'M' on it. I only twigged when I saw a woman tarting herself up in the mirror. At least she didn't react (badly, or in fact at all). (Of course, in hindsight, 'M' for 'mujeres'. But I am not really drunk, and nearly everywhere else I've been has either had a whole word on the door or some stereotypical icon.)
The caption is blatantly false in a literal sense of course. If there's enough light to see at all, a black cat and a white cat are easily distinguished. I speak from experience. Even under sodium street lights. Cars, maybe, I have frequently observed their colours are almost indistinguishable under sodium lighting.
"I've got soul but I'm not a solider" (whatever it's really called) playing now. Crowd is thinning but I just ordered another beer and it is far from empty, there are probably 20 people here at least, for all the fact it's a biggish place.
I am picking at the tortilla chips. I figure I'm going to pay regardless. Maybe the beer is just overpriced, in fact I suspect that's the likely worst case, in which case I might as well get VFM.
Oh, the steak earlier was 'arrachera'. I think that is a very Mexican word and although I wouldn't swear to it I half suspect the particular cut of meat is Mexican as well. But my memory is not good enough to commit myself. Tonight's was huge but rather thin and pretty tender. I could believe the enormous quantities of arrachera I consumed on my previous visits were like that, but it was 2+ years ago and memory is treacherously malleable.
00:10. REM's "Man on the moon" now. Fascinating I'm sure. :-)
I must say some of the 'toppings' provided for the tortilla chips are pleasantly and even a bit more spicy. Apart from those modestly spicy curries in Panama City, this is a welcome change. Probably more due to my dietary conservativism than an indictment of the cuisine of the various countries I've visited, but still.
I just wish the taxis were a little less spicy. :-)
I think part of the charm to me of "Scouting for Girls" is a certain naive good-naturedness. It's a bit like one of PG Wodehouse's school stories. I would hate to live that life but we like to see virtue in others and you can't help but have a sneaking admiration for anyone who would, even fifty or a hundred years ago, who would have even aspired to live like that.
Just asked if I want anything else as they are closing. I have nearly a full beer and don't want to push myself or the staff so have asked for the bill. I didn't like to line a second beer up. Just hope I will be allowed to snack and finish this at my own pace. Probably, it's far from deserted. (Oh, it's 00:20.).
Oh, the bill is 81 and they've charged me 17 for the 'snacks'. I consider that a bit off when I DIDN'T ORDER THE DAMN THINGS. Oh well. It's a quid and I was keen to get another beer. The nearby visible places are already shut so I probably made the right choice. Maybe Thu, Fri and Sat will be different, if I am forced (by taxi worries) or choose to drink round here. If I get change from my 100 I will pay 90, which is a damn fair tip anyway.
"Just won't do" playing now. I can't remember where but I have seen the video before. The "Origin of Species" references are simultaneously cool yet incredibly naff.
00:40. Don't really want to go home but I have little choice and like the man in the story, I guess I have to change my will to match the circumstances. I am not yawning but I guess I am a bit tired and it would be good to go to bed too.
As in Panama I have a king size bed in my suite here. That's cool but the sheer number of pillows is insane. I occasionally use two UK-size pillows back home but one of the monsters here is adequate and four to a bed is insane. It's not like the bed's big enough to sleep four comfortably even if I had the opportunity to be that debauched. :-) Four massive pillows goes beyond comfort or luxury into pointless indulgence for the sake of it. I end up sleeping with a tower of three pillows next to me and I suspect if I was here with a partner two would end up on the floor permanently.
Still, not a bad night, or a bad day overall, considering my earlier qualms. I don't want to get - and don't think I am yet - overconfident, but it's not quite the war zone I had half expected. :-)
I just noticed the printed menu on the wall says 2 for 1 drinks every day from 1pm to 1am. Lying gits. They are shutting before 1am and more to the point, I paid for both my drinks, cos I saw it on the bill. Oh well. I suspect it's a lie for everyone not just tourists...
Oh, and beer is on that list of drinks. It was from seeing that list without reading the top bit I realised they had draught.
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