Thursday, 30 August 2007

Amnesiac truck cave nonsense

Tonight (well it's the next day I'm backdating) we went out in Veracruz; bit of a party town, that's what it is.

Anyway, having left (ahem) the club early without the girls, I found myself outside our hotel, dejected and frankly rather pissed off in what seemed like a night that was still young and r
ipe for the plucking. It didn't seem to phase me that it was tipping it down, about 2.30 and as far as I could see, all the company I was going to find were naval heroes. Made of bronze.

So I went on an adventure to find some action. At some point I must have sheltered under a truck:
Notice the drips.

Next I do know I found a stand selling some food. There were lights and steam and people... I don't know what I ate, only that green and red were involved, and it was good. There was a plastic sheet drawn out from the stand onto a wall for shelter, and a couple of chairs.

What I do know is I spent about an hour there and made all these friends with my Drunk Spanish (the true international language), and that I have really a lot of affection for them all. Like an amnesiac who still remembers his wife, but not her name:
With the other pictures I count around 10 people there altogether. Best ambiguous street food I ever had.

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