Before I get into our time spent in Morelia, I will recap (as always) the past couple of weeks.
My last post, The Vandurian Green Smoothie, marked the fateful day my camera finally succumbed to a lethal dose of beach sand lodged deep into the innards of its lens. This, in turn, prevented it from properly opening/closing and, ultimately, from capturing anything better than a blurry Monet of failed photography. So in the interim of my camera's demise, we got by with some help from Evan's iPhone. Let me preface this by noting that the photos from our next stop (Guadalajara, Jalisco) were few and far between due to the inconsistent manner of said iPhone being both conveniently inside Evan's pocket and properly charged. A rare case, indeed.
Story of my life.
And while I was gone, Evan made a new friend. The only other patron in the cantina was sitting at the far end of the bar drinking a beer. At one point he got up and walked by Evan's table and they engaged in conversation. It was confirmed that the tequila flight was bunk. Evan's new amigo, Juan, took it upon himself to make it up to us. He knew some people who actually brew their own tequila (bootleg, I suppose - and brew, is that correct? Do people brew liquor like they brew beer?). Anyway, he told us he would take us there to do some free tasting. Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of this experience. The iPhone was probably dead or back in the van, but it was a pretty sweet setup.
The next day I woke up feeling less than ideal (duh) and decided my days of alcohol consumption are numbered. I have to get used to enjoying the bar atmosphere and belligerent drunks without being one myself. It was a fun night, though. I will say that much.
Once we got to the main square, we found a trail of sweet and savory empanada stands. Evan tested out a few with mucho enjoyment.
The water costs more than soda!
Lovely jogging paths
Blur. This camera is unquestionably touchier than my previous one. You have to be as still as a tripod in order to get a clear shot.
Adelid invited us to his house. He lives with his family in a small 1st floor, 3-bedroom apartment. We walked in and his mom was making dinner for us - enchiladas. Even though I repeatedly said "no tengo hambre", I ended up with a plate in front of me stacked with enchiladas vegetarianas - tortillas fried in I don't know what (corn oil?), slathered in enchilada sauce, sprinkled with iceburg lettuce, chopped tomatoes, and CHEESE). This time I really did feel like I had to just suck it up and eat it even though it was completely off my lifestyle plan.