mercredi 4 novembre 2009

Friday 30th October 2009

OK, so a flight was a bit ambitious - and at first glance, the bus seemed like a good and inexpensive alternative, but after 7 and a half hours, (the first of which was spent feeling sick after a stupid, stupid choice of VANILLA flavoured cappuccino which was more like a heavy syrup that had only met coffee once in a distant and hungover past), in a tight, potentially H1N1 infested space subjected to Kung Fu Panda (in Spanish), I wondered whether this really was a totally sound plan. (I was going to struggle to hide my 'dolor de espalda' on Monday at the office...and would probably be frisked on entry for the flu.)

To make matters worse for my context-confused brain, I chose to lose myself in a great though tragic book on multi-cultural immigration in Britain, while watching an Asian themed, Spanish-speaking, American cartoon film. No wonder I ended up taking someone else's bag when I arrived in Oaxaca at midnight.

But before that realisation occurred, I was first met by a small welcoming committee of Jose Antonio's friend and her sons, both of whom had learnt impeccable English in Dublin some years before. (Is it me, or did I see a particular expectant look in their regard to me? Why wasn't I drunk? Why wasn't I in a short skirt? Why wasn't I swearing like a trooper?) Anyways, they hid their disappointment well, and ever so kindly took me to my hotel, checked me in, offered to take me to a bar or dinner (dudes? It's midnight! Duh!!) and reluctantly let me be.

It was only once I'd walked the full length of my ridiculously long suite that I received a call telling me I'd picked up the wrong bag at the coach station. I guess the 'PUMA' stamped across it in bold, and the smelly trainers poking out of one end should have given it away (I'd bought mine earlier that day at Woolworths - still going strong down here in Mexico..there'll never NOT be a need for penny sweets as long as 'el día del muertos' exists...) but it was dark and I was contextually confused.

Thankfully the kindly lady who's son's bag I had pinched happened to know where I was staying, as she'd spent the last two hours chatting with my lift as they waited for our bus to arrive. La honte. So they came to the hotel, they took their bag, their patted me kindly, and they went. And so to bed. Sandwich first. Then to bed. Oh no, wait, there's a film with Samuel L Jackson TV.....and the menu for breakfast...and I wonder if my phone works? And I wonder if I should hang up my jacket? Where's my charger? Oh, there's whats-her-face Hunt in this film too. Hmm...child-napping huh? Oh, it's 2am. Can't wait for pancakes for breakfast......

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