Week Two in Mexico - Tacos and Regrets

It’s been a fun, taco-filled week in Mexico, but I have some regrets.

I tried to get a new post out yesterday to mark two weeks in Mexico but today will have to do. I flew out of Mexico City yesterday with memories of beautiful beautiful art and architecture, a flurry of friendships, a belly full of tacos, and, yes, a few regrets.

I try not to think too much about regrets. What happens happens. But I don’t want to be a blogger who only showcases the very best and nothing but the best. Yes, I want to show you the memorable highlights—like signing up for drag queen karaoke on the hostel rooftop—and share my favorite moments but I think it’s helpful to be honest about what hasn’t gone to plan and what I wish I had done differently.

Let’s review one of the most basic and universal regrets, one that leads to many others—drinking to excess.

It’s a time-honored tradition among hostel patrons. For us, every day is a holiday and doubly so on the weekends. It starts with one drink at the hostel to loosen up and make socializing easier. Chatting with newfound friends usually leads to another round or two before moving things on to a nearby bar which often leads to a nightclub and, if your night ends up like mine this past weekend, next thing you know a drag queen is inviting you and a dozen others to an after party at some underground bar that you’re pretty sure is not really a bar but you don’t question it cause the vibes are good and the people are fun. Next thing you know, it’s 7 in the morning and you’re walking back to your hostel just as the sun is rising.

Oh, is that just me?

The real regret for me isn’t the drinking, though the hangover isn’t fun, and it’s not the money spent, which is far less than a night out in the States, but it’s the toll it takes on the body and the time lost to recovery mode the next day—or sometimes the next couple of days.

This past weekend, a night out led to a lost opportunity the next day to join a party boat excursion in Xochimilco the next day. Yes, I literally missed the boat. And to add to the regret, I had already paid the fee to join.

Money lost, memory made.

Speaking of memories, I won’t soon forget all the food I’ve consumed in the last two weeks, especially the tacos.

I had more tacos than I count and of all varieties: birria, lengua, cachete, and, of course, tacos al pastor. But the surprise hit for me was cochinita pibil.

Not only does it come in taco form but you can get it all sorts of ways. Cochinita pibil refers to a juicy and tender slow-roasted pork from the Yucatán Peninsula. It’s marinated in citrus juice, traditionally from bitter oranges, and it gets a reddish color from annatto seeds. In its most authentic form it is wrapped in banana leaves and cooked underground in a píib (hence the name) but I assumed most of what I ate in the city did not from the ground. It was delicious all the same and may very well be the meat I consumed the most these past two weeks, often loaded up in a torta with red pickled onions.

If anyone knows where I’ll be able to find cochinita pibil back home in Albuquerque, please let me know! I’m going to miss this dish most of all.

I’ll also miss all the people I met in the hostel. Two weeks in one place means you see a lot of new faces come through and I genuinely appreciate everyone who made the effort to hang out. Getting to know people from all over the world is one of the very best parts of traveling.

To all of them and all you readers, I leave you with the biggest lesson I learned this week: hydrate and stretch! I really need to take up yoga again.

In the meantime, please check out my Facebook and Instagram pages for adventures from my next destination: Puerto Vallarta!

Hasta Pronto!

Eric