Tag Archives: san cristobal de las casas

Fear and Love. D.F. again

10 Dec

Sometimes we fall in love at first sight, others it takes time to appreciate something or somebody; some other times we see somebody and we just disregard it, to discover few hours later that we like it instead.
That is what happened to me with Mexico City. It has worldwide a bad reputation, that I am sure it will not last long anymore, but it is true that it is known for being polluted, trafficated, corrupted and even ugly. A scary city where walking alone can be often a problem and not recommendable.
I feel so lucky to be here now writing about this amazing city; it enchanted me and that is probably why I am still here after 40 days instead of couple of weeks, among the not so many young foreigners to have decided to discover a little bit more the Mexican capital.
I have been here few days last month before to start my adventurous trip through the country, passing by Puebla, Oaxaca, Mazunte, Puerto Escondido, San Cristobal de las casas, Palenque, Tulum, Playa del Carmen and Isla Mujeres.
I enjoyed the tour so much and every day I was kind of falling more and more in love with the culture and the places I was seeing.
I think that Mexico has it all: a megalopolis offering all kind of leisure every big city in the globe offers, stunning white sand beaches with turquoise Caribbean seas, waved oceans, mountains, hills, unique waterfalls; crazy nightlife, music, art and literature; innumerable arqueological sites, thousand years of history and civilization. Yummy food and exquisite drinks.
And this is why I felt the need to go back to Mexico City and have a break from the continuous movings and changes. I needed some rest; some home feeling and I knew for sure that I would have found it here.
Of course I came back to my favorite place ever in Colonia Condesa at the Stayinn Barefoot hostel. I found it even more beautiful than when I left it about a month ago, this time decorated with a lovely Christmas tree with multicolored figures of the holy crèche replacing the skulls and Day of death adornment.
Plus, it has now opened a cozy little bistro where also people not accommodated at the hostel can eat. And there is a new entry: Carlos, an anti-Mexican prototype – 1.92 tall guy who you would bet that comes from Bergen or Goteborg, who would cook exquisite food inspired from the different countries he has lived in as a chef.
Furthermore, just beside the bistro inside the hostel they are opening a “mezcaleria”, or canteen, and the roof terrace is going to be soon a hangout place with a cool bar, all opened to the public.
If before I was loving this place, now I seriously find it unique and a must see place where to stay when in Mexico City.
It is still a hostel, with an excellent location and service but of course limited facilities not being a proper hotel. But I wish you all would come here once. There are spacious dorms with 6 comfortable beds and stylish, simple and shared bathrooms, but there are also private bedrooms for those who might be skeptical towards sharing.
I was welcomed again from the pretty smile of the two guys at the reception: Delphine and Enrique, it was nice to see them again and tell them all sort of stories lived during this month travelling and sharing with them my increased love for Mexico.
I visited marvelous places and met gorgeous people, but DF was calling, and I could not resist taking the first flight from Cancun and coming back.
Even if there was a “colder” weather here, I still wanted to move from a beach paradise to this crazy busy city.
It is like with people. You might meet and like different ones, but normally there is one who deserves a place in your heart, no matter if it was just an adventure, that feeling exist, and you have to follow the instinct.
Shame for those who live not expressing themselves for fear or for thinking not to be able to love or deserve to be loved. It makes me think now of a beautiful song from Morcheeba – ” Fear and Love: Fear can stop you loving, love can stop your fear”.
If I would have continued to be fearful towards DF I wouldn’t have loved it the way I do now, and since I love it, I am enjoying it with no fear. It is still risky but worth it.
I am not convinced that the way I am is the best one, I am a big romantic and an endless dreamer, and if I like something or somebody I will not hide it.
So, Even though I had “met ” DF at the beginning of my Mexican trip, I had been faithful to her somehow in the heart and although the other places were amazing, none of them had really given me that little fluttery feeling in the stomach.
So, referring to cities, DF made me want to return, and like a Gotan Project song says: “vuelvo al sur como se vuelve siempre al amor” and here I am, back and happy.
I found the city even more beautiful, I had left it one month ago in a rush because I was excited to see new places but also because it was rainy and cold. Luckily I found a warm December here, with an average temperature of 20 degrees. Awesome.
This time I felt much more confident walking on my own, I remember my first night here when I was inexplicably frightened even to be smoking alone outside a building door.
With this I don’t want to say that it is the safest city in the world, but it is like major big cities with good and bad aspects, where it is true that you can hear story somebody who has been robbed or assaulted, which is horrific. But I have been walking alone even at night, always watching out and careful, but in the end it is definitely not that scary.
I have lived many years in Barcelona and I have never seen more bags snatching than there, even more than the so much maligned city of Naples, my hometown. While travelling, when I say to the people that I come from Naples there’s few one who don’t reply: “really? I heard it is very rough over there! ”
Come on, yes, it has bad reputation because it is not that unusual to be robbed there but that not happen everywhere, there are certain areas to avoid, a little common sense and codes to be respected; but if you never try you will never know that it is one of the most beautiful cities with a heartbreaking views on the sea from nearly wherever in the city.
We have to give chances to the places and to the people, as well as to the movies for example.
Has it ever happen to go to the cinema to watch a movie everybody told you not to or vice versa, but once you go out from the hall you find it just the opposite of how the others has described it?
It worth’s a try in this life, it worth to make some effort sometimes. It worth to live it with no fear, you might not regret about it.
Sometimes can happen that you change your mind. That for example you are in a bad mood and watch a movie finding it ugly. Then after few years you see it again with the lovely company of a friend or partner and you find it amazing, like it was another movie.
It happened many times to me.
And I am sure that it happens when we visit places. We might love a place more than the usual because we found an amazing sun shining instead of a cloudy grey sky. We might have fun at a party even if the venue is crap, but you talk with somebody who makes your night more pleasant.
It is the case of what happened on my birthday in Patzcuaro, I had an amazing fun time in this little hidden corner of the earth and had more fun than the one I had in the fanciest club in New York few weeks before.
Most of us have probably travelled a lot, seen many things; most of us live in beautiful countries, our eyes and our heart is used to beauty, but we keep looking for genuine, real things, places and people who have a soul and emotion us. And we find a compatible soul only rarely. That is why we should catch it when it happens, and always listen to the heart.
I am probably turning too romantic now and as always lengthy. So I would like to go back to my love for Mexico City especially of my favorite areas, Colonia Roma and Colonia Condesa.
This morning I prepared a nice playlist on my iPhone, I walked on Juan Escutia, then Mazatlan, turned on Michoacán where I could see appealing bars and restaurants that made me want to stop to any of them.
But this time I was not just wandering around, but actually looking for a specific place that had been recommended me by Carla, one of the five young guys who run the Stayinn Barefoot Hostel.
I had asked her a local tip on a cozy cafe where to chill, have some drink or food, and she suggested a place that through its description sounded like similar to my favorite place in Puerto Escondido, Casa Babylon.
But this one in Mexico City was named “El pendulo” defined as a cafebreria, a mixed word between cafeteria and libreria, bookshop in Spanish.
Thousands of books spread on shelves and counters on two levels, with homey and comfy armchairs and smiley “meseros”, waiters in Spanish, welcoming you and giving you great service.
The menu is wise: has a vegetarian and light option, with vegetable crepes with cheese and tamarind sauce. Then soups, salads, sandwiches, gyros, strawberries Shiva lassies, espresso cafes and juices.
The menu offer pasta, with a “lassagna” in the list, which was not really appealing just for the fact that it was misspelled. Come on chef, even if you are not Italian you might have noticed the error! For lunch there is a 140 pesos (about 10 us dollars) daily fix menu with 3 different options to be chosen, a fresh water of the day and a cafe. Good deal.
I had just delighted a breakfast at the hostel so I only ordered a cafe and a delicious “narahoria” juice, a mix of orange (nara- nja) and carrot (zana-horia) juice. Fresh and savory.
I loved that cool place, I relaxed and enjoyed it, I wrote few lines on my EDF orange notebook, given me as a gift on my last day working at the Olympics, and I really care for it.
After “El Pendulo” I walked few meters to reach a place specialized in filled baked potatoes.
You might not all know that it is among my favorite meals, and I really wanted to try it. I went to a little bistro called “Papa rellena” just off Nuevo Leon, and ordered a potato filled with Gouda cheese and beef.
The filling was really tasty. Such a shame that the potato was too hard and not really good. I prefer it when it is so soft that you can eat it with a teaspoon.
Nuevo Leon is a street full of fancy bars, bakeries and restaurants, and accidentally came across Bonito, a place I had been for a nice dinner last month; I took a look at it, had a nice memory but I proceeded the walk.
I spotted a trendy restaurant called “la Capital”, I was captivated by its design and good ambience.
I might have to go and verify the reliability of my first nice feeling on it.
While walking Parque Espana I saw a funny vintage car parked outside a fancy boutique hotel called Condesa DF. I walked in and saw a nice restaurant in a whitey patio with warm colors; I also visited the sushi bar situated on the roof terrace decorated with green and white modern furniture and offering the guests nice views.
Apparently on Sundays there is a dj playing until late.
I left the hotel and continued my walk.
I stopped in the front of a nice French bakery called La Balance with succulent products displayed, just to take a look at the route and look for Colima, a street I had walked last time and I had liked it a lot. It was just few minutes from there, I saw one of the popular men who polish shoes in the street corner, and it was nice to notice that he was barefoot and was cleaning his own shoes.
I walked a big part of Colima Street, finding on the pavement a lovely graffiti “I love Mex”. I took a very cool picture with my red all-star matching the red heart. Colima has trendy clothing, design and antique shops and restaurants, and actually I stopped by an Asiatic restaurant called Omiya, mainly Japanese and fusion food. It had really high ceilings decorated in a tangible Asiatic style. I might want to go there as well before to leave.
Another spot I wanted to see in Colonia Roma was a gallery called Border: I had read nice things about it so while getting to Zacatecas street I came across another familiar place: Belmondo, a lovely sophisticated cafeteria and restaurant I had been last month, when I enjoyed a corn cake and a superior cafe. I could not avoid stopping again.
It was disappointing to figure out that Border had no exhibition at the moment and that wouldn’t have any until February, but the space itself looked cool.
On the way back to the hostel I remembered that at Palacio de Hierro, a popular Mexican department store last time I had noticed a nice Spanish delicatessen. I was craving familiar tastes and I bought some Jamon Serrano and provolone cheese. Spain and Italy together better than ever, also among my favorite food combinations.
And here I am, exhausted, on the colorful stylish sofas at the hostel, surrounded by vinyl, a small guitar and a vintage LP player. Delphine is reading a book, speaking with people and whenever she laughs I love it, it is so hilarious and contagious: it makes me laugh even if I don’t know why she does. Enrique just arrived to swap the shift with Delphine, they are now laughing together for some funny reason. They are lovely!



















Scent of tradition and resistance. The Zapatistas

29 Nov

A quiet afternoon of the past 27th November we decided to follow our politically active mate, Kevin, at his Spanish school where we could learn some more things about “Zapatismo” movement through a documentary.
I am not a big fan of politics, but during my stay in Chiapas I have to admit I got quite curious about it. I met few people who actually travelled to Chiapas just to study its indigenous communities and support their activities.
Around the end of the 70s, representatives from different Mexican indigenous groups such as Tzeltal, Tzotzil created the Indian Congress with the goal of uniting the indigenous peoples politically. Activism and resentment continued to the 1990s.
This small guerrilla band led by a man called Subcomandante Marcos called the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (Ejercito Zapatista de Liberacion Nacional, EZLN), came to the world’s attention when on January 1, 1994, the day the NAFTA, (North American free trade agreement) went into effect, they occupied the San Cristobal city hall and proclaimed their self revolting to the world.
We watched the documentary and we shared our opinion afterwards in a beautiful terrace with stunning views on the town. Two large wooden benches connected to a central rectangular table, which would be just perfect for a ginger tea. But we head to the hostel instead.
The following morning we woke up relatively early with the aim to get to Oventic, a place popular for hosting a big Zapatista community.
We took a taxi from the main market; fifty minutes’ drive through the foggy and wind mountains around San Cristobal.
The unfriendly taxi driver left us in front of a half black half red gate with on its right a cartel saying:” halt, drivers must wait for a responsible to open the gate, those who not respect it will be punished for 24 hours. No matter who”.
of course we stopped, we were aware that this people is not the most welcoming and friendly, so we waited until two short men with balaclavas came to ask who we were and why we were there. These people want to be unrecognizable to the strangers this is why they cover their faces; we told them we came from abroad and sincerely told them the reason for the visit: we were curious and wanted to learn more about their reality so far from our Italian, Australian and German one.
They asked for our names and few more details, writing it on a quite damaged paper with hands proved by some manual work, I noticed black nails. I wondered if they had just been working on the soil.
While they looked extremely focused on taking our names, we heard a persisting horn coming from a “tortillero”‘, a guy onboard an old motorcycle selling tortillas in the area. An old lady with the face covered came out and bought some.
The process taking our name took quite a long time, but we were not in a rush, if it was not for the unpleasant cold we would have been even more patient.
I took a look at the cartels outside the gate and one was saying: “you are in a Zapatista area; we are in an open rebellion. Here the people rules and the government obeys” and another one saying “everything for everybody, nothing for us”. Explicit grudge.
We had to wait out there about 20 minutes, until one of the two guys came to open the locked gate and took us to an old lady house. She didn’t look so unfriendly but she was of few words and before taking us around she warned us not to take picture to the people as we already know. These indigenous think that taking a picture to them might steal their soul. But it won’t be difficult to find some of them asking for few pesos in exchange for a photo. Would people sell their soul just for necessity? I am sure most of them wouldn’t.
To any of the questions I asked, the lady would reply: I don’t know.
I was expecting this kind of attitude; these people want to live in their reality and don’t spread out too much their tradition. Mostly here in Oventic, but in general in all Chiapas, people is very protective of their culture, and regardless the huge rest of the world advanced modernity, here you can smell the scent of their tradition and their devotion to culture. By any means, with a resistance attitude of people who are not going to surrender easily to what goes against their beliefs. This was eventually the part I most appreciated of them.
We walked through the beautiful and colorful murals and I surprisingly bumped into a big green tarpaulin covering old stuff. The bizarre thing is that it was from a brand I know very well since it is a popular Italian leather goods company based in my hometown and whose owners are friends of mine: Carpisa. I wondered how it ended up there.
We stopped at the few handcraft shops that had opened just for us, and we bought something in sign of gratitude for letting us have a look around their places. This town is not how you would imagine a town; there is no paved road, few people around, an old school with some students playing and many cattle wandering around.
Looks like most of these communities are based on autarchic systems, being self-sufficient and never giving up their traditional ways of food, clothing and tools gathering and making. Some of them have no jobs and make no salaries though.
We stopped at a little shop who would also serve food. On the shelves many Zapatista souvenirs, cd, posters and books. On its beside there were Zapatista movement photos hanged on the walls and few wooden tables with colorful tablecloths. There was a lovely little girl outside playing with a tuna can with soap inside, playing bubbles. It was so sweet to see how kids can still play and have fun with no means. I tried to do some bubbles but I didn’t succeed, there must have been a trick I was not aware of.
That cute little girl reminded me so much of my little niece, both for her lively character and for her aspect. Her mother worked at that kind of convenient store and would keep her daughter there while working. She drayed on my notebook her house and wrote her name since I had misspelled it.
I started to speak to her by name: Xalani, she gave me such an unexpected and naughty answers; for example when I asked her if she had any special “friend” at school, she replied she had actually four boyfriends, and that even though she liked all of them she couldn’t remember all of their names. She also told me secretly she liked one of my travels mates, pointing out the beautiful Bieber (Justin), saying she liked him because he was the “whitest “.
I am sure it was not for discrimination against the darker ones, but you all may know that we always like what we find unusual. In Italy we say; “l erba del vicino e sempre piu verde”- the grass is always greener on the other side.
In Sweden guys would ignore blonde girls more than everywhere else in the world, opposite to Latin Americans or southern Europeans, which would find blond exotic instead.
We spent a couple of hours in that kind of bistro/shop playing with the most energetic girl ever; she even played football with the guys while waiting for food. We were all astonished by this little girl intelligence and naughtiness. I even asked her if she wanted to come with me to Italy and she surprisingly replied “no grazie” in Italian, (where did she learn it?) because she had family and school here. The best answer.
However reluctantly, we left Oventic directed towards San Juan Chomula, a little town half way towards San Cristobal. We did not get so much information about these people, but at least we could see a little bit of their ordinary day, and spent few unforgettable hours in company of members of their community.





















Food, tattoos and whatever makes you happy in Chiapas

27 Nov

On our first day in San Cristobal we had breakfast in a nice colonial place and reached the Zocalo, the main square of the town with gardens and a big Kiosk in the middle.
The historic center of San Cristobal has a Spanish colonial layout, with Baroque to Neoclassical style, beautiful buildings painted in various colours with Moorish hints.

The majestic yellow Baroque Cathedral with its red ledges and the big white building as the City Hall are the main attractions of this square.
I loved that fresh mountainous air of San Cristobal and the fact that wherever you are you will notice to be surrounded by hills.
Even if it is situated in a tropical zone, its climate is temperate and humid due to the altitude thus you need to carry some winter clothes, which I didn’t really have. I felt like when walking in February in Barcelona, when it is pretty cold there, I looked at the North European tourists walking with Havaianas and other flip-flops. nd I used to find it ridiculous.

Well, I am sure somebody has thought the same of me when walking the street with spring clothes with 7 degrees. What goes around comes around, no?
That morning we walked through the large open-air crafts market, with colourful and nice stalls mostly of textiles, amber and food and I saw many “sabrosas” – macadamia nuts vendors.
I had fun taking pictures of Dora with the ” Marcos”, little dolls representing the Zapatista activists with their typical black dresses and also a nice photo with a bunch of artisanal dolls that would be considered new little friends for her.
Paul and I noticed a tattoo shop, walked in and we both decide to have one. All happened so fast! I change my mind often but I surprise of myself that I never regret things. That’s why I love tattoos. I will always consider special regardless what could happen “tomorrow”.
I finally had a tattoo I was about to do in London few weeks before to leave, ” Fernweh “, a German noun that means, “crave for travelling, homesickness from a place you have never been”. I had always loved that word which apparently has never been properly translated with the same meaning.

Some would translate it as ” wanderlust” but that did not convince me. So I decided to keep it as the original noun.
Paul wanted to write on his arms “whatever makes you happy” but he finally had it in Spanish so to give more value to it being in Mexico. His tattoo was finally “lo que te hace feliz”. One has always to do whatever makes us happy. And I have probably chased this need all my life.
We were both happy and satisfied for our new inscriptions on the body and went back to the hostel for some rest.
At the Iguana hostel we met nice people, we first had some beers and then went for a walk and to a popular “Tacos” place. We talked about random things and even played cards, Asso. I don’t like cards but enjoyed it anyway.
We were a group of people from Italy, Australia, Germany, Holland, Canada, Usa and Israel.
That night I started to feel my cough was getting worse, and since I didn’t feel in shape I decided to stay at the hostel writing the blog and having a nice conversation with a nice Dutch guy who perfectly spoke Italian.
Of course he reminded me of my lovely other half and friend Sandrine and I imagined her to be fluent in Italian soon after the big efforts and Italian classes she is taking.
The day after we decided to move to another hostel; we had seen it just in photo when we had arrived at the bus terminal: Puerta Vieja hostel, and actually it turned to be an incredible place! We loved it immediately.

It had opened since few days, you could smell the brand new flavour everywhere, the dorms were amazing, rustic, country-style with colourful blankets.
We had a huge room for us and slept in mattresses that had never been used before. It was like being on a family trip, and I loved laying on the clean, fresh and comfortable bed and listening to Paul or Kevin playing the guitar just outside the room.
The kitchen was amazing and I was glad I could cook a little bit since I was missing it.
I cooked for two nights in row pasta for dinner for the five of us and a lovely German girl friend of the guys called Greta.

She had just been in Brazil for an interchange and was now travelling Central America. She had such a sweet smile, incredibly funny and looked really smart too.
In the morning I prepared often breakfast with my (modestly) delicious scrambled eggs.
I was happy to taking care of the guys in terms of food and I was also the official guide of the tour. But they were taking care of me so bad. I like the fact that I am independent from any human being, and I learnt to live on my own and do things despite the fact you have company or not. But I love good company, I love to forget how good I can stay alone when there’s good people to protect me and taking care of me. They were always taking care of me and never let me alone especially at night.

They started to call me Mamita thinking that it was a name for a mum but on their side they were
I felt so protected and safe at all times. It was nice to notice that if I ever stopped to see a shop or taking a picture, one of the guys was always waiting for me with a smiley face.

One day I woke up later than usual and I found the breakfast done by all of them for me with wonderful croque madames. I felt lucky! They said I deserved it J
That hostel helped our experience in Chiapas to be even more magical. It was supreme, with wide common space, a huge and functional kitchen and many bathrooms. There is about a bathroom every 2 people with great and warm showers, which is not to be given for granted in hostels.
Its majestic patio with long white arches and beautiful pictures on the wall, the big large wooden table where to have a nice breakfast while listening to music, is just few of the great aspect place where everybody can feel a home.
There is also a bar on the top of the house, it is still under construction but I can assure you that it was already beautiful like that, with stunning 360 degrees views on the town.
There is a soul at Puerta Vieja hostel; it is a beautiful project of few young entrepreneurs with the help of a great young architect called Daniela.

I wish them all, especially Dani Fernando and another lovely guy (who helped me not to freak out when none of my travel companion came back to the hostel a morning after partying) the best of luck for this project and that they will be able to fill all the 50 people capacity hostel.
Puerta vieja location is great, being situated on one of the main street called Diego de Mazariegos: full of shops, a big supermarket and a couple of minutes walk from the Zocalo.
In the back of the hostel there is a big garden where every night people would gather and sit all around a bonfire, with an external sauna made of stone and a beautiful antique door hanged on the walls increasing the magic atmosphere of the place.
At night we had a lot of fun at the hostel especially for Daniela – the architect – it was her birthday, and the guys organized a surprise party with usual bonfire, a piñata and a lot of food and drinks.

There were people from different part of the world; I enjoyed talking to a sweet and easy-going nice guy from Israel called Itamar. He had beautiful, kind of grey eyes.

There were also 2 nice hippy girls from New Zealand and a vegan Australian who were sat in circle meditating and after that all of them jumped on the fire in order to “leave the past behind”.
Meantime Justin and me prepared delicious jacket potatoes that took about 3 hours to cook. But it was worth to wait! Patience is golden !
One day, wandering through the town we found a lovely cultural center called ‘Tierradentro’ and it would become our favourite spot in San Cristobal: a large patio with autonomous “Zapatista” cooperatives in inside.

I loved the giant world map at the entrance, I probably never saw such a big one and we had fun taking pictures kissing Mexico and the Aussies indicating their so far away country.
We would go there on a daily basis, sometimes up to 3 times a day delighting its amazing coffees, salads, meat and a delicious authentic pizza with Nutella, which would be my little daily whim.
In San Cristobal there is a great food choice; many foreign residents have opened up restaurants with specially Italian and French meals.

There is an amazing French bakery on Calle Guadalupe called Oh-la-la where I strongly suggest you to go and feel like you are in a patisserie of Les Marais in Paris.

In terms of shops there is a good variety going from the basic cheap artisan things to the most sophisticated handcrafts of a beautiful shop called Eklektic.
I was very sick during the entire stay at San Cris, taking antibiotics and syrups instead of the rivers of alcohol the guys were consuming all day long. But it was special anyway.
More than once I was told by locals to drink tequila and all the pain would leave, or at least it would help to forget about it for some hours.
It is so bad but frequent while traveling getting sick, maybe for the change temperature, the sometimes cold showers in the hostels, travel stress (yes, it exist), tiredness and the long rides in buses with air conditioning and no open windows, with easy access to viruses.
In Chiapas lives a large indigenous population, made up of mostly Tzotzils and Tzeltals, the most important ethnic groups. It was bizarre to find out that the two languages are pretty different and they don’t understand each other.
We were so comfortable at the hostel that we all turned into lazy, even more for me, as I was feeling pretty sick.

There’s a nice garden inside the Casa de la Cultura de Chiapas. It is worth a walk inside with big handlooms on a side, and big colourful Mexican canvas on the other.
It is very close to San Cristobal Church, situated atop a long staircase up the hill: 300 steep stairs. About its half way there’s a sign ” no tirar basura,” do not trash bins and on its right a little hut made of recycled bottles and its tops and corks: very original.

Also, we bumped into many chickens on the stairs and a lovely about 2-year-old kid that, as soon as Paul said “hola” started to scream and cry, as you would see in a candid camera show.
The church was closed but the panoramic views of the city were amazing.
Plus, we had fun among the vintage yellow gym tools in the backyard.
As during the previous day we had been quite lazy we decided to make a double effort and walk all the way to the Guadalupe Church on the Guadalupe hills. Quite a long walk but less stairs though.
We walked by many shops during the long walk; especially a winery called Proyecto 25, then a marqesita shop where I had one filled with Nutella, a nice “casa de te” called Lum and different homemade chocolate shops.
While walking by the cathedral I met again Lena, a young German girl I had first met at Cielo rojo hostel in Oaxaca and after few days by chance at Posada del arquitecto in Mazunte. Many many km away.

Again incredible to meet randomly travellers met before.
At night we made a rendez vous with her at another favourite spot: la Vina de Bacco, a kind of tapas concept bar, where you receive some little dish whenever you buy a bottle of wine. Its owners are Italian.
We had a lot of fun, and met other people from the hostel; we enjoyed some minutes of live music from a smiley and funny Romanian traveller.
I got a bizarre proposal from an American murals artist who offered me consultancy for my blog in change of some afternoons to spend together. He said he was also an editor. He might have been useful for my blog but he was a little bit awkward, I didn’t give him my email on purpose but he gave me his. I never wrote him back. I thought: I would never meet him again. But puff…. I didn’t know that I would bump into him face to face a week later in the streets of Palenque, 6 hours bus away.

The world is little, I felt a little bit guilty but I acted as I had not seen him.

And Chiapas is a place I would strongly recommend you all to visit.











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