Mexico
I’ve been in Mexico for a month. The truth which I’ve been trying to avoid is: Mexico feels like Mexico. Mexico looks like Mexico. Mexico has been, give or take, what I thought Mexico would be. I don’t think this is a problem. I love Mexico. Everything about it that I thought I would love, I have. And I don’t think you can live your whole life surprised in any case. I suspect it’s because Mexico (partially by coincidence of proximity to the USA) has managed to develop such a clear visual and auditory language through TV and film that I’ve already seen a hundred scenes set here. Some of them are natively Mexican and some of them are Yank prestige TV drama about cartels, but they’ve all spent a lifetime filtering through my head. One of the reasons I’ve not written anything about it so far is that every line that starts to form becomes trite almost instantly. This probably isn’t Mexico’s problem so much as me feeling completely spent about travel writing. Street food, ...
