Guanajuato

a pictoral update.

Guadalajara Centro

Zapopan

From a bus

Ajijic

This is why Heather’s camera is more fun than mine. Though YouTube does a good job of murdering the film in it’s processing.

(Warning: The song is Beirut’s Bratislava, and no doubt I’m infringing, but it just landed right. Do everyone a favor and get yourself a copy of Beirut’s Gulag Orkestar – it’s brilliant. And watch the video before I have to replace it with my own soundtrack.)

vallerta and back

on a first name basis with jose.

We talked about it, and really the conclusion was that you can’t be in wine country and not visit a winery. What would people say?

So here in Guadalajara, Jalisco, neighboring the city of Tequila, there was a certain obligatory ‘you-gotta-do-it’ pull to tour a distillery.

So we boarded a bus from the Central Station, and winded out of the city passing through green hills and fields of blue agave plants over to the pretty little town known for its namesake contribution to the world of spirits.

We grabbed a small bite, walked around a bit, and then caught the very last tour at ol’ Cuervo Mundo, which our guidebook told us would be already closed.

We watched the history of Jose Cuervo as it traced through generations of Don Juans to the current global endeavors of the company. We saw the agave cores, stripped of their long spikey leaves, tasted the sugary meat from the fiber of the plant, and saw the juice separated from the baked pulp. And of course we tasted the alcohol in its various manifestations along the way.

In the end we understood there are trully distinguishable tastes between the different types of tequila — white, rested, and aged. Common descriptions used are oakey, smooth, flavorful, aromatic…

I find that I distinguish the differences with the descriptions ‘burning’ and ‘less burning.’ Cheers.

landing.

After a long day of flying, I landed in Guadalajara at 9:30 pm. I gathered my bags on a cart, got the green light from customs, and walked through the frosted sliding doors into a host of waiting welcome parties. I caught H’s smile from further back in the crowd and she strolled up to greet me.

I’ve known how beautiful a woman Heather is for some time now, but honestly, last evening, I was taken a-back at how stunning a sight she was to my travel weary eyes, and how unreal it was to be able to again wrap her up in my arms.

She’s still saying it today: “I can’t believe you’re here.” I’m not sure I believe I’m here. But I will say, I am so glad I am.

farewell fiesta.

Some of the work gang took me out for a little going away. Muchos Gracias, as they say. Nothing like adorning a guy who gets embarrassed easily with a sombrero and pancho in the middle of a St. Paul restaurant. And, yes, that is a rubber ducky in my left hand. He too has a sombrero. Ole.