On Monday, we headed out nice and early for our Cajun Encounters swamp tour. Of all the choices I listed for the day, Eva went with the tour, and after all the walking of the previous day, I was looking forward to driving and letting someone else take the reins.
I think Sunday was the best day of my trip to far. The hardest, the longest, the most tiring, the most frustrating, the most overwhelming…but still the best.
On Friday, we flew from Mexico to New Orleans. We are becoming quite the airport experts, Eva and I, whipping our laptops out, disposing of our water, and answering our questions as concisely as possible. We have even inspired friendliness from those who appear cut from disapproval. I tend to be visibly excited, whilst Eva gives the impression of being terribly low-key…I suspect the combo is endearing.
So, Mexico is sinking…
The Aztecs established their capital on what was once an island, but when the Spaniards conquered the Aztec empire in the sixteenth century, they razed the buildings and filled in all the waterways, replacing them with streets and squares.
Mexicans are LOUD. They shout, blow whistles, honk their horns incessantly, and use animated pre-recorded spiels to tempt people into their stores. Even the roadside tamale bikes have a recorded voice that just repeats, “tamales, tamales, tamales” in a sing-song voice.
A Fat Purple Fig 