Roadtrip to Atlixco! -- Puebla, Mexico

Original plan for Sunday was to hike a volcano.

Then research was done.

And proper research has the tendency to thwart all but the most stalwartly oblivious.

I am many things.

I am occasionally stalwartly oblivious.

But when Jonas informed me that his research had tipped him off that hiking Popocatepetl might take a couple of days (it is the second highest peak in Mexico) and that several buses and a taxi would be involved in getting to the foot of the mountain, my stalwart obliviousness quailed under the pressure of "Aimee... don't be stupid."

"Should we make it our taco hopping day?" Jonas offered an alternative after I returned from my Mexican style (aka, COLD) shower.

I was brave enough to wash my hair today. I splashed water under my arms and then stuck my head under the spurting stream and briefly, ineffectively sudsed my short locks while the remainder of my goose-bumped body waited for it to all be over.

Girl's not good at cold.

"Taco hopping sounds great."

"Or... we could go to Atlixco. It's not so far away and could be a good day trip."

"I still don't have my fujifilm working... I'd kind of like to wait to explore new things until I have that guy up and running again..."

"That's fine. It can be taco day."

"Ach. Never mind. Let's go on an adventure. I can use my video camera to take pictures. I need to stop whining about not being able to use my favorite camera when I have a perfectly acceptable substitute."

"To Atlixco, then?"

"Absolutely."

We hopped on a bus just outside of Jonas' community and bumped, rattled and crashed our way to Puebla's main bus station.

A few words on the Mexican bus...

They are not built to accommodate tall Germans. During the four months Jonas has lived in Puebla, his knees have developed a very intimate rapport with his chest. They see each other far more often than my friend would like.

Mexican buses make me very thankful for my disproportionately short legs.

Bus drivers love their music. They play it loudly and always. If, for some reason, you board a bus and do not hear Mexican music blaring out of all the speakers, you feel like something is missing.

The engine is here... it's certainly making more than enough noise to verify its existence. I can also hear the brakes...so that's... good? The windows are rattling enough to shake up my brain... so what's missing? AH! I can actually HEAR all these things! That must mean this driver isn't playing his music. Humbug. 

When you press the little red button to stop the bus, be prepared to leap out the creaking doors. The bus driver will not tarry for passengers who hesitate. This definitely happened to me my first time on a Mexican bus.

Girl jumps out of moving buses like a champ.

There are designated bus stops, but more often than not, people just wave a bus down as one would signal a taxi. This makes the ride even more chaotic (exciting), as the driver is constantly screeching to a halt to pick up waving Mexicans.

We arrived at Atlixco around noon.

We had no expectations other than that the town would be colorful, next to the picturesque El Popo and full of Mexican food.

We certainly didn't expect the unbelievably marvelous day that unfolded so perfectly before us.

Atlixco is a town known for its production of cut flowers and ornamental plants.

And around Christmas time, things seem to go a bit mental.

We even found cactus Olafs. Mexico is obsessed with Olaf. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. 

I may or may not have gone overboard with pictures of locals. Everyone just seemed to have interesting stories in their clothes, their wrinkles, their hands, their colors, their energy. Girl couldn't resist. 

Livelihoods are often moved via bicycle here. 

And the houses can look like candy. 

Which often reflect the surrounding flora

Photo by Jonas. I wanted to send half of these plants back to Cathy for her garden. 

Photo by Jonas

We stopped for a cappuccino at The Italian Coffee Company. 

Jonas had an iced cappuccino. 

In December. 

His German brain was blown. 

Photo by Jonas. Obviously. ;)

Coffee finished, we descended from the rooftop cafe and continued down the vibrant streets of Atlixco. 

And somehow found ourselves here.

"I don't even know what to focus on!" Jonas exclaimed as he held his camera to his eye.

"I know! It's so much. Everything everywhere is exciting and intense and ah!"

Everything looked delicious, so we just sat down when we were hungry and took what they gave us.

People often use their hands to eat in Mexico, even when a fork would make things significantly less messy. I love this. I love that it's culturally acceptable (and encouraged) to feel the heat, the shape, the texture of food before eating it.

Photo by Jonas

I could have wandered around that market for days, but instead, Jonas and I snapped a few more photos and began to make our way back into the relative "open".

Not everyone likes to be photographed... This is why I have such a hard time photographing people. I'm always nervous about invading their space and making them uncomfortable. 

Photo by Jonas

Mexicans could probably rival Italians for the sheer amount of ice cream/popsicles consumed. 

I enjoy the man in the middle. And his grumpy, "where's my ice cream?" face. 

Photo by Jonas.

Atlixco is nestled at the foot of the Cerro de San Miguel mountain. 

Plopped atop is a hermitage dedicated to the Archangel Michael. 

"Want to go to the top?" Jonas asked after he'd bought a bottle of water. 

"Absolutely! I've still got loads of energy." 

I wanted to ask this man about the magical monster living in his hair. 

Photo by Jonas

Photo by Jonas

Photo by Jonas

Photo by Jonas

PDA is all over the place in the parts of Mexico I've seen thus far. Although nothing is as extreme as the couple I caught having sex in the Mediterranean on the coast of Nice, people can get pretty romantic.

Which I applaud them for. I'm always happy to see couples kissing in public. 

Kids get lost in their own worlds and forget about everything else. 

Romantic couples get lost in each other. 

And I'm delighted that they're able to forget about me. 

Photo by Jonas

Jonas

Popocatepetl = smoking mountain in Nahuatl

We napped in the sunshine by the church, and then hiked back down to the main square.

Where we were surprised by Mexico, once again.

Photo by Jonas

Photo by Jonas

Photo by Jonas

We arrived at Jonas' apartment after six and went out for a goodnight taco at eight. 

New requirements for future place of settling down (should that ever happen): goodnight tacos. And fire dancing. And markets that go on for days. And houses that are more colorful than flowers. And iced cappuccinos in DECEMBER. Yes. All of these things.