So guess what I did last night?
I finally, FINALLY booked accommodation for the CDMX/Acapulco trip!
(Firmly pats self on back)
Henie was instrumental in figuring out where to stay, and yet she seemed awestruck by our (her) choices. The apartment we have in CDMX is in La Condesa (it means “Hipster City” in English) this time, and is very close to our beloved Contramar and its insanely outstanding tostadas de atun (they’re tostadas with sashimi-grade tuna, avocado, and crispy leeks). So far, the plan is to return to Contramar for those bites of heaven and to re-engage our awesome tour guide Ho for a return trip to the mysterious and fascinating Mercado de Sonora so Henie can get a bruja to ritually cleanse her spirit again.
But then what?
We’re only back in the CDMX for about 48 hours, so we still have some room to build more activities into our MPCG. I haven’t had time to go there yet, but we still have two months to go, so plenty of time to get that bagged.
But then there’s Acapulco.
Henie made me laugh this morning. See, we’re Gen X ladies. And as such, we have memories that probably should be forgotten. But for both of us, when we think of Acapulco, we think of this:
Shit. Now I can’t think. More on the Acapulco MPCG later….I’ve gotta get my disco on!
Hink is an aspiring traveler plotting global domination and looking for the funny.
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