The photo is from 2006, and Lopez Obrador’s first attempt to win the office of president. This protest occurred at the IFE building across the road from our home. Obrador came and gave a speech to a sizeable and noisy crowd there. Voto por voto! I think I took this photo on that very day. In just a couple months time, Mexico will go to the polls to decide which political crook gets to screw them over for the next six years. Obrador has his hat in the ring again. And he looks to be in with a realistic chance of finally realising his dream.
I like my job. It’s the best job I’ve ever had, actually. From both a job satisfaction and a financial point of view. Sure, I don’t love it so much that I’ll keep turning up if they stop paying me. And I’ll never be a millionaire even if they do. It is, after all, a job. That said, I like it. It doesn’t sound a particularly thrilling job. I sell train tickets. Sometimes I refund unused train tickets. And there’s plenty of other odd jobs around the station that need doing. Usually I work alone, but sometimes I work with others. It depends where I am on any given day.
Let me tell you a story. It’s about that photo up there. I took it just a few minutes ago. That cat has been hanging around the station for a couple of weeks. Today it got bold enough to wander inside and sit on my till. I gave him some milk, and he likes the attention he gets from customers. I reckon he’s going to become a regular fixture in here. Which is a good thing. Every station should have a cat. But the story isn’t about the cat. It’s about the photo in a more general sense.
Don’t worry, he’s not ours. He is a newly arrived nephew. He has a first name and two middle names, all in homage to his recent ancestors. All of whom are now sadly deceased – great grandfather on the maternal side, and grandfather on the other. Sort of. It’s complicated. On my blog, we will call him simply Master J. He’s a cheery, chubby little fellow, isn’t he? He’s about eight months old now. Mrs P, being a good Mexican lady, is needless to say over him like a rash. There are many worse rashes he could have at his age.
Well, of course it’s Mexico. Where else do you get a cathedral like that, with skies so blue and faces so brown? Well, I guess quite a few places in Latin America. But this blog is called the Mexile, so of course it’s Mexico. The photo is just a little over eighteen months old. And full of wonderful memories. The filter I used would try and convince you that it’s a few decades older than that. It’s a con, but I liked how it turned out. The town? Answers on a postcard, please.
I am a very modern religionist. Tots up to date. When I go to church for nourishment, I go to the local in Westbourne. Very pretty it is, with lots of stained glass windows, as you’d expect in an old English church. People do often have their favourite parts of a church. Mine is upstairs, where Plates and Co serve a delicious three course meal for a very reasonable price. And it’s all very romanitcally lit as the sun streams in those stained glass panes. If it upsets you that such a lovely church has been converted into a restaurant – and it did upset some back in 2010 when it happened – then you probably don’t want to know that the downstairs became a Tesco Express convenience store.
We’ve had such a long and dreary winter this year. And spring was just an interlude – a momentary interruption of winter for just a few days. But, with fingers crossed and touching wood, I do believe summer has arrived. The mercury is doing its best to force its way out the top of thermometers, and much of the British population are doing their best to apply ridiculous red sunburns to their faces and arms. Which they will later view in the mirror at home, contrasting the difference against their Artic white torsos, causing either a little bit of self loathing or a bit of a giggle. Depending upon their outlook on life. I am a giggler.
Mother Nature, as is her wont, has played a dastardly trick on us. A week of fine sunny weather and soaring temperatures, convinced us to put away our winter clothing till the frozen winds from the north and east return late in the year. No sooner had we done so, that the fine sunny weather disappeared and cold winds blew in again. Hopefully, it is but a last hurrah before the seasonal norms settle in. Continue reading
Once upon a time, I walked the entire length of Avenida Reforma, including the Calzada de los Misterios. I took a photo every 8 steps or so and created a video out of the hundreds of snaps when I got back home. To be honest, the final product did not meet my hopes or expectations. But never mind. I still managed to photograph all the monuments along Calzada de los Misterios. From memory, I think they were something to do with pilgrimages to the Basilica de Guadaloupe. Probably. That was a mighty long walk. Too long for one day. I had to split it into two. It became even longer when I wandered off the the other end of Reforma for a good couple of kilometres, unaware that the road had actually ended some time back.
Mrs P and I happened to be strolling up the Mall over the weekend. There’s a big Commonwealth of Nations Heads of State conference going on, so the Mall is lined with the 54 flags of the Commonwealth and a small army of police and other security personnel. A particularly astute reader might want to stop me there and add a correction – there are only 53 members of the Commonwealth. But he or she would be forgetting that the Commonwealth itself has a flag. And he or she would no longer seem quite so astute.
Hurrah! Smug Mug have bought Flickr. Which, I think, is great news. It’s time to get out the bunting and celebrate. I’m pretty invested in Flickr. I’ve been paying my annual Pro subscription since August 2006, but I originally signed up some time before that. I get unlimited storage for my $25 a year, which I am trying hard to fill up. I’m beginning to think I’ll never succeed, but so far the 17,008 photos that I’ve added have consumed 67.74 gb of disc space. Needless to say, changing to another photo host would be a bother.
There’s a lot to like about this car. It’s a McLaren, so it’s a British car. A real British car, as in it’s owned, designed and built in Britain. Or so I thought, but it seems there are some Middle Eastern pistons in this pie. It’s also a Brexiters dream company, what with Bruce McLaren being Canadian – we’re all for the Commonwealth again. Or Empire 2.0, if that’s your cup of delusion. It’s also a fantastic car. Mrs P and I have driven past their HQ a few times in Woking. We like Woking. We could even live in Woking one day. Will that ever happen? Well, if my ambition to become a train driver comes to pass, then yes.
Would you just have a look at that! Have you ever seen something so fabulous in your life? A beautiful blue sky. My scepticism was, happily, unfounded. Fair weather has arrived and the temperature soared into the mid 20s. In the space of just a few days, barren wintry branches have sprung to life. Hesistant cherry blossom has decided now is the time to turn our dreary streets into a kaleidescope of colour. The sound of the lawnmower has returned, bringing with it one of my favourite smells – freshly cut grass. It’s almost enough to make you sing out loud Lennon and McCartney’s famous ode to our solar friend.
It strikes me that not too many foreign visitors ever think of exploring Mexico’s many mountains. Other than the handful who come here specifically to do so. I must confess, it didn’t really occur to me to try and climb one for the first few years. Probably due to the assumption that this is very much a specialist endeavor. I can pinpoint the moment I thought to look into it. We were driving to Oaxaca, and out of the window was Iztaccihuatl, looking large above the horizon. I stared at Izta a long while and wondered, ‘How hard can it be?’
Today, I am the quiz master. There is only one question. If we take a walk down through the fog to the end of the pier, what will we find? Give it some thought. There are so many possibilities. We can brainstorm a few of those possibilities. Perhaps we’ll find the sea. Or the sand. Maybe there’s a dead body there. Or a fisherman, trying his luck. There could be a boat, moored up. Or a flock of gulls. What do you reckon? I think it is reasonable to suggest the question will provoke different responses from different people, depending on their life experiences.