ok, Im in Mexico. But my luggage isnt. Looks like it'll be Ponchos and Somberos from now on. A Gringo Charro.
A tleast I arrived with my head on my shoulders and without any damaged organs. You know what I mean. 25 hours of traveling, 4 airports, 1 missed flight, 1 lost bag and endless plane food all managed to fuck with my head by the time I hit the sac in Pousada Maura.

All was fine until we landed in Mexico D.F. The decent was great, the city sprawls across the horizon in an endless assortment of colourful low-rise buildings.
At the airport, I took the good advice of the chica boarding us for the Guadalajara flight and missed my flight to pursue the whereabouts of my newly aquired backpack. After maxing out my Spanish, I succumbed to using English and found out that my luggage was still in Spain. It was inevitable eh?
I took the 850pm to Guadalajara, by which time I was totaly fucked. At least I had not took Muppet mans advice and I had a hotel booked to arrive at.
My trusty taxi driver took me in my 160 peso ride, cursing most of the way cos he didn't know where it was. He was a geezer and found it eventually. Had nightmares all night about a green backpack. Not surprising really. What with my body clock messed up and these odd reoccuring noises during the night, I woke up in bit of a cold sweat.

Friday brought a new day but with the continuations from the previous 24 odd hours. I was feeling rather greasy so ventured into the shower cubicle which also doubled up as a shitter. Like my Ryan air flight for 25 pound, which took me from London to Barcelona return -which was horribly delayed both ways- I couldn't complain that the shower only ran cold water. At 5 pound a night, i'll risk it. I'm sure thats more than alot of Mexican have.
So Friday I told Victor Manuel that I was expecting a call from Iberia about my luggage. With nothing further I could do about it, I stepped outside and set my eyes on Mexico in daylight for the first time. Hmm. Ok, where to now. What to do. I had had a brief look at Victors map before I left and had an idea of where to go. When you're somewhere new, somewhere totaly different to your country it can overwhelm you a bit at first.
My trusted sense of direction brought me to San Francisco cathedral. I wondered further to Plaza de Armas, where I saw a few Communist protesters and a lady laying under a tree asleep with a drip hooked up to a branch and a cup for donations.
Another problem was the matter of where to get grub. I went into a decent looking cafe and asked the dude if they did 'desayuno'. He waved me on in without hesitation. What an arena of Tacos! I think you could have asked for Pigeon shit in a taco and they would have had it. I got 4 Chorizo tacos for 20 pesos- 1.20 pounds. Very nice.
The luggage was still playingon my mind so I bought a calling card and called Iberia. Good news. My bag was to be delivered to my hotel later or tomrw. Would be in Guad airport at 4pm.
Back at the Pousada, Victor Manuel told me that Iberia had called and said I had to collect it. Buggeration. After about 30 minutes of siesta I left for the 176 bus to the airport. Man what a bargin. Only 45 pesos, as opposed to 160 for a taxi. The airport is outside Guad and I saw some nice scenary. Also saw some poorer Barrios. As we approached the airport the bus did a swift U-turn, -reminisant of something out of fast and the furious- and we headed back down the highway in the opposite direction. Assholes, I'd have to get off at the next stop, which happened to be a little town just off the highway. It was full of dogs on the loose. How did this happen. It was a bit of a walk up the highway, passing a dead half-skinned rabid dog which stank to hell and back. Without much bother I got my bag and returned. I could relax.
How lucky am I. I've found a Wal-mart.