TL;DR the author and his family visit Mexico - this may be edited later
With the kid in dual-language Spanish immersion and myself desperately needing to (1) practice Spanish and (2) see the sunshine before July, we decided to treat ourselves to a trip to Guadalajara. Why not. The flights were relatively cheap and it looked exciting.
The flight (our kid's first ever, and JL's first ever trip outside the US!) was pretty calm, thank goodness. We weren't sure. We had shown him some "Flying on an Airplane!" type DVDs from the library and brought the Steam Deck so he could play endless Tiny Terry's Turbo Trip on the plane.
Layover in LAX - I had forgotten how crazy it is (the boy kept saying "why is this airport a shopping mall?!"). We eventually make our way to the Aeroméxico gate at the farthest end of the airport where we realize we are among the only English speakers there. All right, party's on!
Airport hotel shuttle. I am immediately glad I did not rent a car - I'm too timid a driver, I'd get smushed. We get hotel food and I realize I should have boned up on how to do things like ask for the bill, how to tip, etc. Oh well. The waitress is gracious and helps me with some of the lingo. Our room overlooks a trucking yard, which is endlessly fascinating to the boy the next day.
The next day we take an endless Üüüüüüber to our fancypants Colonia Americana Erbenb. The neighborhoods slowly change before our eyes from bonfires-at-night to building supplies to coffee shops and boutiques. The view from the Erbenb is nuts. Crazy sunsets and sunrises. There's a brunch restaurant on the block that only serves black food.
We walk and walk and walk. Chilaquiles every day. Coffee. Bookstores. New flowers and hand-painted signs at every corner. Great design on every brunch menu. Flyers on every corner for desaparecidos. Men's names called out in spray paint as an abusador.
Friday we go to the zoo. It's a great zoo and the kid is a great age to take to the zoo. The heat is a problem for boyo and Oregon-bred spouse, so we head back to the Erbnb and they rest in the AC. I head out on a MiBici and ride around looking for a restaurant. The restaurant is not there, but I ride more and make notes of new places to check out. Biking here is fun. I lurch through intersections, assert my place in the street. It feels awesome.
I fail to get dinner and bring back potato chips. Oh well.
Saturday is a rest day because I get the dreaded traveler's dyuhryuh. It takes me out pretty bad but I recover quickly. I may never eat potato chips again. The Erbnb host's description of the suite mentioned "small gatherings on the roof" on weekends, but it turns out this small gathering was a high-volume dance party that shook the ceilings until 1 am. Fortunately, I was totally spent and passed out at 10.
Sunday we get more great chilaquiles in a candy-colored hole in the wall and I hurry back to catch the last hour or so of the Vía Recreactiva, in which the city closes down a bunch of major thoroughfares and people actively transport themselves through the city. It feels spectacular to be part of a huge crowd, from hipsters and goths on rollerblades to kids popping wheelies on BMX bikes for blocks.
We only brought two books for the boy, Garfield: Fat Cat 3-Pack Vol. 16 and My Cat Is Such a Weirdo Vol. 5. He has read each of them about a trillion times and has started reenacting scenes from both. The kid dresses up as a chef and pretends that My Cat Is Such a Weirdo is the menu, so we end up ordering a lot of "THUD-OOF!" and other delicacies.
So many little cars.
Monday we take the bus to Centro and walk around the cathedral, the central plazas, the grid of narrow shopping streets. The boy is mesmerized by a barrel organ. We take the last ride on the carousel before it closes for siesta.
MORE TO COME