Good morning mountain! Good morning cars. Good morning city. Good morning people! Good morning weird smoking volcano! I was looking at it for a long time, wondering if it was smoking, or just with a

Good morning mountain!

Good morning cars.

Good morning city.

Good morning people!

Good morning weird smoking volcano! I was looking at it for a long time, wondering if it was smoking, or just with a cloud hanging at the right place. It was smoking. (And even more on Monday.)

Good morning suburb.

Good morning highway system.

Good morning metro! It looks like shit on the outside, but I have a feeling it’d feel like home inside. It was a lot faster than us, despite stopping at stations.

The bus station was so large that it doesn’t fit in a photo unless your camera is flying. Tons of buses moving all the time.

Here’s Maria, if you want to talk to her! Sitting in these practical bus seats, like you were still on the bus, on your ancient pilgrimage to unknown countries.

Subway station! Women and children under 12 get their own private cars.

This is our car.

Oh, it feels so safe in there!

But it feels pretty safe here as well. One or two sneak-photoing tourists perhaps.

I’ve never seen this in my life before. Every subway station has its own symbol! It was quite clever actually. Reading a symbol is so much faster than reading the name. When entering a new station, check the symbol of it, look at the map, OK. 1 second instead of 10. We should also have symbols! Here is Hallonbergen where I live in Stockholm:

The blue is for the subway line. The mountain in the middle is “The Raspberry Mountain”, and is the symbol used by our central building. And the rest is the city we build all around it, as I wrote in this thread 🙂

Got of at Seville station, which is my Mexico City home, and tried to find my street. In most cities, street names are written on corners. Here I had to talk to people. *Shiver*. And they said: yes, you are here.

The dorm had beds in three layers! I love it.

And every bed has its own electricity! That’s exactly how this planet should work.

I’m living in the Condesa area, which is supposed to be the “hipster area” of Mexico City. I’m not a sure what a hipster is, but I got the feeling that the area should suit me. I started by walking to a pedicure place, as instructed by my sister. First time I did pedicure was in China, in 2012. They used a knife to cut of all my dead skin, and my shoe size seriously became one size smaller. My shoes literally flew around my feet as I tried to walk afterwards!

Unfortunately, the pedicure place was locked, with some phone numbers on the outside. I decided to have lunch at a place with WiFi, and check if it was possible to whatsapp them.

And, without even searching for it, what do I find if not a vegan restaurant! That’s perhaps what they meant by “hipster area”. A hipster might be someone who manages to live their life without murdering cows and raising the planet. I’d love to be such a hipster.

I had a spinach lasagne. Since I love spinach and lasagne. But it tasted … sweet. I had no idea what was inside. Not something I’ll order again. And do you see the water? Two euros for “water with taste” :p

And the tiramisu was too cold and cakey. But I like that they exist, anyway! Some people must like it. And I met a friend here, a New York guy of Ecuadorian origin. I showed him pictures of the Ecuadorian lizards. As a fluent Spanish speaker, he could call the pedicure place and ask for me. No one answered though. He invited me to a jazz club tonight, where his friend would play. I’ve been in Mexico City less than two hours, and I’m already having vegan lunch and being invited to a jazz club.

I went back to the pedicure place and sneaked in when a woman sneaked out. 15 euros. Tons of people. A lady cut my nails, and rasped them. Then used a knife on the cuticles which hurt a lot. She rasped the whole feet, which was so tickling! I was laughing in pain. The lady liked it. Such a tickly boy!

Then the feet were drenched in various mixes.

And got to rest in a hot towel for a while.

Then it was time to find shoes! But I couldn’t find a single shoe store. I guess hipsters are all bare feet, like the dirty hippies they really are. The reason to find shoes, is that I’ve decided to start jogging again. My backpack is only 8 kilos now, after I got rid of a lot of things, so I could carry 0.5 kilos of shoes in it. I’ll run in the shoes that I’m already wearing, and will use the new shoes for when I need to be all polished and clean, at dinners etc. Oh, all the running I’ll do!

I asked my zombie friend here for where to find a shoe shop, and he had no idea. “Shoes? Nah, I lost them, and don’t care. But have you seen my nose somewhere?” After looking for shoes for a while, and for spirits, peanut butter and almond oil, with no success, I went home and crashed in bed. Woke up at 23 at night, and decided it was time for the jazz club!

I took an Uber there, paid the entrance and was placed by the bar. Had something to eat. Looked at the jazz. I can’t say I’m a big fan. Three guys with instruments making very subtle music. I like jazz in combination with other styles, as some kind of low parts in otherwise crazy songs, like in Mr Bungle, but this …

But it was great to see my friend Franklin! I gave him the water bottle he forgot in the lunch place, and then we talked for a while. But I had to leave pretty soon. Sitting sober in a jazz place simply doesn’t suited me. Especially not when the jazz playing friend came back and started talking about how he hated people who talked to each other during his concerts. Jesus, did many people come there for the music? I came for the people!
I tried a taxi, but he wanted 150% more than an Uber was. I walked to the underground, which was closed. Mexico City! You have 20 million inhabitants. You can’t close the subway at night! I tried to find Internet somewhere, and eventually found Nick, an Australian tourist who took me to his hostel where I could Uber myself home to my safety. Good night 🙂
