I'm thinking that this post is going to be short finish - and more of a pictorial visit - to our last days in Mexico City. The primary reason is that I spent a good portion of our final two days in bed.
Silly me. Anyone and everyone who has visited or intends to visit Mexico knows not to drink the water. And, believe me, I didn't except for the filtered water at our host, Mexican Lou's, home or bottled water (after checking that the cap was intact). Regardless of all the care taken, I still got hit by a wicked round of Montezuma's Revenge. Bad enough that Boo (an ICU nurse in real life) was worried that we wouldn't be allowed to get on our scheduled flight home if my fever didn't break.
Naturally, I started feeling poorly on the one day that Lou had taken off so that he could play tour guide during the day. We were strolling through his Condesa neighbourhood - taking in all the art deco buildings and local parks - on our way to a local market when I needed to beg off on the tour and beeline home.
It was only about twenty hours later that I felt remotely well enough to get out of bed and try a bit of a last wander around the neighbourhood. Thinking back, I concluded the only thing I ate or drank that might have caused the problem was some guacamole I had while at the Teotihuacan pyramids. The "authentic" lunch we ate there featured a guacamole that was more like salsa. How else would you make a watery guacamole but with water? Perhaps it was just a little too authentic. I should have known better, but the guac did taste good.
Not that good enough to give up two days of wining and dining though.
We had to get up in the middle of the night to catch an ungodly 3.30 a.m. cab to the airport. So, we faced a decision of staying up all night or catching a bit of shut-eye before our wake-up call. We chose the latter - but only because I was still a bit under the weather. Really. (OK, who am I kidding? We likely would have taken the nap in any event.) So that left us one last evening - albeit a tame and shortened one - with Mexican Lou. I may have only been up to chicken soup for dinner but I was game for one last cocktail in our Mexican Manhattan enclave. It was then that I realized that I hadn't had a margarita yet. I couldn't leave Mexico without at least one margarita under my belt.
I just prayed that the ice wouldn't exacerbate the Revenge. Or the flight home.
Chalk one up for the margarita. It marked an end to our three country whirlwind tour. We might not have added a bottle of wine to The List in a couple of days but I think we did a pretty good job over these last two weeks.
Now to dry out for a bit - both from the steady diet of cocktails AND the Montezuma's Revenge.
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