Ixtepec and Whats Next (Hey That Rythmes!)

Most of yesterday was thoughtlessly consumed by an extreme "bus experience," which is code for boring old bus ride. However, it is the true measure of a master blogger to color the monochrome or spice up the soup so i ll do my best not to waste your employers time. Except you PM in which case this "time" is already mine.

Setting out on an advertised 6 hour, (in actuality 7 hour) bus ride, I present you with the obligatory "Pablo on the move" photo...

Pablo on the Move, Water Bottle in Hand

Moving to the bus station in Oaxaca I couldn't seem to find the right entrance for my bus and I paused to ponder pointlessly, was I expecting a personalized entrance? Oh right, this must be it...

This Must Be The VIP Entrance...

  On the bus I got the last seat with a striking panoramic view of the bathroom


Huele a Urina, wey.

From my vantage point I was able to see if the girls took their purses with them to the bathroom or not, yippee. This was not the luxury bus of yesterday and I'm not sure if the movie screen in the seat back could have withstood the jarring anyway...



Camera Image Stabilization diminishes the effect somewhat but it was a bumpy Gurn.
This was sure to be an interesting ride but there were some great sights to be seen, such as this and Maguey Agave plants that make Mescal dotting the landscape

Yummy Future Mescal Gluten Free Goodness

On a 7 hour bus ride one has time-o-plenty to reflect and I was feeling so bad that my reflections were mostly on my future treatment options and where morphine and hospice fit into the mix.

ED has become the yardstick by which I measure my misery as he is truly miserable. His hands became so swollen a couple years ago that he could no longer operate, which must truly be suffering for a doctor. Imagine going to school and studying all those years and then this happens at age 35

Eds Hands

ED also floated the possibility that my ailments are the result of some voodoo like curse placed upon me by a bitter ex-girlfriend which prompted more reflection on my part. Ive always thought of myself as a pretty decent guy where women are concerned, and while Ive had some less than amicable break-ups I cant really think of anyone who would say Ive wronged them or acted out of malice. But who knows sometimes affairs of the heart can really cloud ones judgment or memories. There's a few ex girlfriends reading this now, what say you oh anonymous commenter?

As I reflected (or genuflect-ed praying for a safe arrival) the wheels on the bus of life kept turning, climbing into the sky. Come, ride with me, if you dare...



I must have uploaded the non-twisty turny video, but trust in me, it was a windy one.
We arrived safely at in Ixtepec but the journey didn't go so well for these folks

No One Hurt, The Stems On This Ford Excepted

Arriving in Ixtepec, safe and sound, our Hotel was sold out and were forced to accept second rate accommodations. Which was fine by me as second rate is a little more my speed. The rooms were $10 for the night but being the elitist discerning traveler that I am I opted for the air-conditioned suite for $20.

A Real Salt-of-the-Earth Sandals in the Shower Kind of Place

I know what youre thinking, "Paul, $20 WHAT A BARG OF GURN LIKE PROPORTIONS!" Too bad a toilet seat and hot water werent included. If I had bought it at Costco I would take it back. Plus, that aire acondicionado lets everyone know its there and that its working REALLY hard for your comfort and enjoyment.




and with that we ate and retired for the night. This morning we saw the Shaman and Ill write about it tomorrow. This would be the blogosphere-ical equivalent of the television series season finale cliffhanger where you cant wait to find out who slept with who and whether the protagonist is actually dead or not.