25.11.09 Escarcega, Mexico

I have to be in Cancun on Sunday to meet Naz, last seen in Buenos Aires. It would've been quicker to go through Belize, but sod that; it's $200 to get a bike in and the cop situation is supposed to be worse than Honduras. The "attraction" of Belize is the diving. There's only one sort of diving I'm interested in, and it doesn't involve an oxygen tank. Usually.

Puerile? For sure. Crass, offensive and unfunny? No doubt. My only excuse is a mood-swing caused by -
a/ 16 number twos in 24 hours (sixteen!)
b/ leaving the sapphire-canopied Arcadia of Chiapas for the flat, overpriced drabness of southern Campeche.

Amber!

In Escarcega I inspect four hotels before giving in.
1. An overpriced sterile box.
2. Overpriced at $35, and full anyway.
3. A circa-1920 Parisian urinal disguised as a hotel with no parking.
4. Seems OK, until you notice that the TV was manufactured in 1968 (really - the channel changer is a dial) and they don't sell beer. Gaaaah.

A long walk up the road yields a bar - fine - that shuts at 6pm - what? - and a restaurant that sells beer but makes me walk four feet from my chair to smoke, even though it's largely outside. Booooh.

OK. That's out of my system. Tecate, Corona, Dos Equis and Modelo are all solid, workmanlike lagers (unlike Sol which I've decided is a little bit watery), and the latter comes in 710ml bottles, two of which seem to reverse the above-noted mood swing quite convincingly. Plus Man United lost 1-0 to Besiktas (I know!) at Old Trafford today. Ho ho!

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What would you rather share the highway with? A juggernaut piloted by someone with a hard-to-come-by Heavy Goods Vehicle licence, the test for which involves an eye test and preferably a bit of psychological profiling; or a 34 year old taxi with "God Help Me" painted on the rear window?

Amber again!
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