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"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
That was my first reaction when I discussed a potential winter destination with my travel buddy. I’ve always been excited about the Middle East and Asia, so something in me said ‘No’ to the Mexico plan. I had quite some stereotypes in my mind, probably shaped by American movies, in which the bad guys invariably tend to escape to Mexico, crossing the border illegally. The country is often portrayed as dry and dusty, with men hanging out in front of dodgy looking motels and uninviting roadside bars. But since my travel partner had just started to study Spanish, I agreed with a Spanish speaking country. Also my landlords had made countless attempts to invite me to their new home on the coast of Oaxaca, making it sound like the ultimate hippie heaven. The hippie part was not a real draw card, but who says no to a potential relaxing holiday spot at the beach? By the time we had bought the tickets, the Spanish classes were dropped. But no complaints since I wouldn’t have agreed to go without them.
The trip started a bit troubled with a snowstorm in New York, creating a total chaos at JFK. So I arrived a day late, and originally I had only planned to stay two nights in Mexico City, a bit frightened by its reputation of pollution and crime. Even for a seasoned traveller, certain stereotypes stick. I had arranged to stay with friends of friends for 2 nights. What happened next was that I completely fell in love with Mexico City, and got invited to stay longer and celebrate Christmas together with my hosts. I stayed in Zona Rosa, the gay neighborhood. What surprised me most about Mexico City, and also other places in Mexico, was the creativity, the artistic attitude many people have. It’s so colorful and vibrant. I had a lovely studio for myself for a week, full of artwork. The windows didn’t close very well, but with the balmy weather it was not an issue. And the air smelled surprisingly fresher than in Antwerp where I live.
My two hosts became friends and we decided to go together to my friends’ place at the beach in Oaxaca. I had a more than relaxing time in Mazunte, in a smartly designed hut on a cliff overlooking the sea. I can’t wait to go back. But the highlight still had to come. On a sunny morning we left with some more friends I had made in meantime, direction Oaxaca City, across the mountains. I’ve never seen such a colorful, pretty, pedestrian friendly, lovely, old colonial city, full of creativity, great food, cool bars and good vibes.
We stayed a week. It might sound a lot for a city, but actually it was not. We did so many things: visiting markets full of exotic ingredients such as grasshoppers and endless varieties of chilies, learning how to cook moles from a local chef, venturing into the local art scene, visiting some fabulous archeological sites like Monte Alban, bathing at the petrified waterfalls of Hierve del Agua.
I discovered Mezcal, which is like Tequila, made from the agave plant. Tequila is actually a Mezcal made from the blue agave. There is a saying attributed to Oaxaca regarding the drink: “para todo mal, mezcal, y para todo bien también” (“for all bad, mezcal, for all good, as well”). I’d never been crazy about Tequila, but maybe it was the setting where I had my first Mezcal that really did the trick. It was a stylish little, pastel green painted place, called Mezcalleria Los Amantes, stocked with huge bottles of Mezcal and a young humorous girl as bar tender, dim light in the place. It might have been new, done by a smart person, but it looked like it had been there for ages. Ever since, I try to get good Mezcal in liquor stores in Belgium, but it never tastes like in that place. I regret not having gone back the next year already, not just for the Mezcal, but for all the creative energy. It’s one of the places where I hope to stay for a longer period. When is the next flight?
Hierve del Agua
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"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
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