One journalist's musings about the beautiful, bizarre world in which we live
NOV. 30, 2010
Travel partner Dan and I just hopped on a bus for Mexico City.
The last of our friends left Monterrey today, along with the last of the wedding guests at MexiDan’s household.
After a day discussing our Mexico plan, we decided upon one.
And so, we were loaded onto a bus, filled with the strong scent of urine.
We have leg rests and seats that lean nicely back. We pulled out our books, ready for a 15-hour journey of reading and sleep.
As soon as the spines on our novels cracked, a loud guitar cracked the silence – an on board movie about a rock band started.
“C’mon, subtitles!” Dan chanted, hoping that if he couldn’t read his book he could at least understand the movie interrupting his reading.
“El Rockerio” said a deep voice on the screen, as a stream of quick Spanish joined the hard rock. No subtitles.
“Damn,” Dan said.