I'm in a bus all to myself, so I spread out. The driver does not speak much english so there's no chatter. Relief is chorusing through my body. I will make it to my hotel. Its about 5.30pm, peak hour. The traffic is crazy and bottleneck around the border. Being in a bus we don't have to go through with all the cars, we zip up a special lane. To my right we pass a heavily gated enclosure. Standing in a line, with their arms above their heads against the side of a shed are about 12 men. They all have plastic bags in their hands. I wonder what's in those bags! (I have pics, but as yet haven't worked out if I can post them on this blog with this application)
Border security just wave us through. We're off. The driver puts his foot down. We hurtle through what I guess are slums. Being white middle class I can't say I'm an expert on slums. I'm intrigued by the dilapidated houses, the unsurfaced roads, the bomby cars. An unsurfaced street, we just don't see that. We move through that area and after about 15 minutes the class of the surrounds have lifted. We're traveling along a coastal road and speckled along the way are numerous new looking condos. Such a contrast.
And finally we're at the hotel. It's pretty bloody big and looks quite old. I imagine back in it's day it would have been pretty swish. Everyone speaks English so checking in and getting settled is easy. My starving belly is thrilled to hear evening meals are included in my tariff and the restaurant is open until 9.30pm. My room, which I have got at a heftily reduced rate because I'm a guest of the festival, has an ocean view, what a treat. Its pleasant enough, slightly shabby, but clean. I dump my bags, don't bother to shower and go and quickly eat some ok Mexican fare. Then it's back to my room, where I sleep for 12 hours!!!
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