My first time in Mexico. 8 April 2006

On the left: the hotel.
On the right: scary street.



Let's Go alarms the reader about
security in Mexico: never carry more money than what you can run with. The writer contributed: always keep moving, and look as if you know where you're going, even if you don't. A small woman who walks with confidence will get into less trouble than a large male who stands around looking lost. I was getting scared the more I read that book.

My nervousness went up on the flight. The bright lights of Houston, neatly laid playing fields, and industrial installations gave way to nothing visible the Mexican side, where there was a lot of desert I guess.

As we came closer to landing, at about 11.30pm, bunches of amber twinkling lights gradually grew to slightly more twinkling amber lights, set out in no order. My excitement was building, and the fear: I was arriving late and was just hoping I could find a taxi, and the hotel, and the hotel would be open.

To catch a taxi from Guadalajara airport, you just go to a desk, buy a ticket for your zone, and go to one of the clearly marked yellow cars outside. This part turned out easy, and I explained to the cab driver, in broken Spanish, that it was my first time here, and I'd wanted to get to Latin America for about 14 years (my Let's Go was purchased in 91). I was excited.

My excitement changed back to fear as we got down a dark street with a food vendor here and there, and a handful of people. High walls, beaten up cars, and the drumming noise of the cobblestone street on the tyres. Armed with a hand drawn map from Mapquest, I'd gotten us lost. I was just hoping I wasn't staying in this poorly lit part of town.

We got directions from a bunch of guys drinking in the back of a pick up truck. The lights were off at the hotel; we finally arrived at about a half past midnight. The hotel owner opened up quickly, and the place looked fine. I didn't sleep well the first night, not knowing if bandits would come etc etc. My window opened straight to a courtyard. I felt happy at achieving a bed in Mexico.

I wished I had have known how quickly I'd become comfortable here, laughing as I'd pull out my $500 camera for a shot, standing in the middle of a crowd. It was liberating. On my second trip, we even hired cars and got used to mixing it with the insane drivers! I felt at home. Maybe Mexico has changed; I never felt threatened again.