The 2^nd of November arrived, and with it, finally, the Day of the Dead.

Hokay a lot’s happened since I last wrote anything, and I don’t want to skip any days as I know what I’m like and if I’m not careful whatever I’ve been up to here will be lost to the pungent landfill of my memory. So!

It knew it wouldn’t be easy to top the alebrijes/two museums/skyscraper/dead parade day, so I didn’t bother trying: I spent much of my third day in Mexico City lying around the hostel reading and vaping.*

It’s been another busy week where I fall behind on writing – Mexico City has been a laaaat.

Hello you. I am in Mexico City now. Hoooooooooooo! But first: we must wrap up Oaxaca.

Almost every traveller I’ve met on this journey has told me they loved Oaxaca. The first person to tell me this was a French girl, way back in Holbox. Nobody really told me why the city was so cool; every time it was mentioned people merely smiled and told me to go there.

I’m writing this hungover as all hell, so forgive me if I’m not very… good… at words.

So, quick recap: I met some cool English people in San Jose and we ate magic mushrooms together and got weird.

I left Mazunte happily, not because it’s an ugly place – it’s achingly beautiful – but because it’s fucking sweltering, and I was burning through two t-shirts a day just to not be constantly soaked in sweat. Next stop: San Jose.

I stayed in Escondido until my three-week jaded weird stage had passed. My time was spent chatting to people by the hostel pool – people who were also there for a week or so, so the stream of new faces slowed right down and made way for deeper friendships. I cooked, I watched sunsets, I lay on my bed and did nothing for hours at a time: nice. It took about five days before I felt back to full energy – once again ready to get out there and find a new adventure.