CDMX Part Dos: T Minus 3 weeks

Considering this is a continuation of a series, I’m thinking there’s no need for the usual witty intro, the Lovers greeting, the quippy jokes. Or maybe I’m just a little lazy about it these days. Either way, in lieu of this year long staple, I’m just going to launch into week two of CDMX.

The night after the Klingande show, the majority of the crew went on hot air ballon rides at the Teotihuacan Pyramids. Knowing my propensity for being an absolute grouch on not enough sleep and need to crank out some work, I had decided to skip the trip and spent the {Sun}day catching up instead. When my roommates arrived back looking like zombies, I patted myself on the back, put the work away and fired up some Netflix.

The next day was more work work work with a side of PI planning. This month I had stepped up to help run our positive impact event, so I met up with Duffs, KSheng and the city team to throw together some plans for an epic last month event. I was suffering a second (and thankfully less severe) bout of Montezuma, so couch and girls time was in order after PI.

I was grateful to be feeling better later that week, because it was Temazcal time. Don’t have any idea what I’m talking about? It’s a sweat lodge experience. In a teeny tiny clay hut. Month 12 and I’m still facing fears. Dark. Claustrophobia. OPENING UP. Fears aside, the experience was like no other, and I left it pretty raw and open about some things. I took the opportunity to channel those emotions into some brutally honest conversations, because at this point, we’ve got less than three weeks left, so if there are to be no stones left unturned, let’s start kicking rocks.

After some air was cleared, the boys and I took to the bikes the next day to change the scenery for work a bit and pop our laptops up on Polanco. We start at Pujol, where we drank overpriced cocktails in between client calls. We moved to a new spot where we indulged in Italian dishes between rounds of mezcal. The Earhart crew is doing some damage nearby at a bowling alley, so we join up for a few rounds of pin dropping and beer drinking. As with most evenings, we cap it off with some tacos el pastor before calling it a night.

The next adventure proves to be more of a challenge than I bargained for. We’re signed up for a track where we are dropped at nearly 14k feet to hike up and into a volcano crater. I’ve tackled many a feat with a hangover this year – climbing up and rappelling down waterfalls, hikes to remote Thai villages, boat rides, etc… but today was different. Once we reached the edge of the volcano, before hiking down into it, we were offered the chance to summit one more peak. Being the guys girl I am, I followed the boys up without question. Mistake. I made it about 75% of the way up this peak before began to feel dizzy. I sat down and prepared myself for the descent. We made it back down, but I was light headed and irreconcilably nauseated. A few of the crew stayed behind with me, only forging ahead when I requested them to so that I didn’t have an audience to the eventual loss of my breakfast. The remainder of the day was a struggle where I continually felt like I was trudging through molasses. Add altitude sickness to the list of experiences for this year.  But the views….

In typical RY fashion, there wasn’t much time for recovery, especially considering the number of citizens in town that weekend. Rooftop bars, dance parties and mezcal ensue, with a late night taco stand stop soaking it all up before Trajineras in Xochimilco the next morning.  The roomies and I are running a bit late, grabbing supplies and hustling our way to the morning bus.  I’ve donned my shades for more reasons than one, but as we approach the bus, I’m grateful to have them as a shield for the tears that stream down my face when Kiwi pops off the bus, a surprise month 12 reappearance that has me smiles all day.

The trajineras are all of the fun and total shitshow that was promised by previous groups and when we pour our sun worn, alcohol saturated, over tired bodies onto the bus, I take it upon myself to remind everyone that the mother’s day surprise for our PLs that Marky and Mel put together is still a go at our place 30 minutes after our return.  A rally effort was made on all parts, and the Mommas appreciated the effort, even if we scared one and make the other cry.

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Temazcal, altitude sickness, and the return of good friends made for a good week two.  We’re cranking though it guys.  Week three coming your way shortly.

Specifically Yours,

SR

CDMX Part Uno: T-Minus 4 weeks

Hola my Lovers!  It’s been a while since I’ve indulged you in a detailed play by play like I did back in Split or Budapest, where I recounted my adventures on a least a weekly or biweekly basis, often more frequently. Either way, and though it is after the fact, I feel like there is enough content to break my last month into a 4 part series covering each jam packed week of Mexico City, our final adventure on our chosen journey.  And I feel I can do this in a manner where I don’t feel like I’m rushing you through in an attempt to “catch up”.  Instead, I’m looking foward to re-living the live, laugh, love that was CDMX.

Travel Day Adventures

The CDMX adventure began way before we hit CDMX.  With a 4am rousing for a 430 airport pickup and my continuing procrastination regarding packing, the most exciting part of my night before transition was Mel’s uncontrollable giggling as I answered the door for my Rappi order in my Rappi hat, a favor Sadie and Marky had championed for our travel day activity.  We arrived at the airport, zombies in bright orange hats, only to discover our flight was for Sunday.  All of RY always travels on Saturday.  As my Ella and the mommas tried to sort things out, I found a Marky and used him as a nap vessel until we were told they had managed to get all 30 of us on a flight that afternoon.  Able to make it past the security gates, we found a bar to post up in and Marky, DL and I took advantage of Aguardiente bottle service, pouring ourselves onto the plane as gracefully as we had poured each shot.

After an annoying delay on the runway, I re-engaged Marky’s services as a pillow for my second much needed nap <er, pass out>, waking in time to see our plane swinging wide and adding more time to our already re-booked and delayed flight.  Turns out there was a hailstorm in CDMX preventing us from landing.  After landing and collecting baggage, a few find that checking into the wrong flight has caused bags to not arrive, so the gaggle that got checked in before the scheduling error was discovered proceed to lost luggage, the rest of us pile around eating Mexican Cheetos and grabbing our pesos out of the ATM.  By the time we get rolling an to our accoms, its after midnight.  Don’t worry about the math Lovers, that’s a 20 hour travel day.  Went out with a bang.

 

Swankity Swank

I’m rooming with Mel and Taryn this month, but when we arrive at our home for the month, I’m focusing on a friend in crisis at home, so they get the run of the place prior to rock-paper-scissors for rooms.  Round one goes to T.  Mel takes round 2, which leaves me with the shit room. They take the two upstairs.  Oh, I forgot to mention our apartment is two stories. With an open ceiling living room.  And glass all across the front.  I trudge off to my losing room…. with a patio.. and a walk in closet… and my own bathroom… wait a second, if this is the shit room….. further inspection reveals that we won the apartment lottery this month, so instead of going out for the evening, we Rappi in some Indian and settle into our bad ass digs.  Just when I think it can’t get any better, Marky responds to my location pin that he’s 100ft away on the bar street – which means bad ass apartment IN happening part of town. Double win.

The next day is city preview, so we walk to the workspace amongst the ice and foliage that covers the ground after last night’s storm.  Despite the storm, it is a beautiful day, so after our intro, the team takes us to Chapultepec Park for a tour and some history.  Afterwards, a large majority of the crew hits a local eatery for lunch, after which we depart to meet up with some Citizens we had met along the way.  A few rounds in, we decide to move the party to our place (our swanky, loft-esque, built for entertaining space) and quickly grow to 20+ deep over the evening.  Monday is work and WestWorld, and I make it to bed relatively early.  Unfortunately, I don’t stay there long.

Montezuma’s Revenge

Around 3am, I’m awakened by a feeling… a feeling I haven’t had since…. Peru… I’m going to… I’m not… oh, fuck, yes, I am going to throw up.  I barely make it to bathroom in time, and spend the next 7 hours or so in a similar state. Bed>bathroom>bed>bathroom.  I’m able to doze off a bit in between spewing my insides up, and awake around 9am to an alarming number of messages in our group WhatsApp.  After some back and forth, we discover that 17/30 of us have gone down with some ailment – I consider myself lucky mine was up, not out.  One of the affected is my roomie T, so we Rappi some activated charcoal, Pedialyte, and home for quick recovery.  I hop on a call and quickly preface that if I suddenly disappear from screen, I have good reason.  By noon I’m feeling better, so I try some soup, and by then end of the day I’m keeping everything down (and in).

I rebound swiftly enough to hit Crossfit the next morning – and I exit class with a text message from Marky asking for a water delivery after his house went down the night before.  Seems that all but 2 of the 13 that had escaped the first night went down in night two. Montezuma does not discriminate.  I deliver all the above mentioned goods that got me back on my feet so quickly before hitting the workspace for a call laden day.  Besides a packed work day, I’m running another Going Deeper session this evening, so I’m prepping for that in addition to everything else. Told you it was a busy month.

Lucha Libre

I’ve got no complaints about an uneventful Thursday and Friday – my roommates and I have discovered the only thing better than our apartment is staying in it all day and only putting pants on to answer the door for Rappi.  But Friday night is Lucha Libre, so we adorn lower extremity clothing for some good ol’ fashion Mexican wrestling fun.  We’re given a tour of the arena and private training before the show – RY exclusive, of course.  After our ring tumbling lessons, we find our way to our seats for one of the most entertaining shows I’ve ever seen in my life.  We laughed and cheered for hours while we downed beers and nachos and instant ramen – yep, the concession guy sold instant ramen.

 

Wrestling is followed by dancing at Whiskey Wallace, conveniently located across the street from – you guessed it – our bomb ass apartment. This made it easier to abandon ship when the subsequent club search was less than fruitful.  T and I headed back to our place (sensing a theme yet?) to (take off our pants) open some wine, and, well, whine a bit.  Mel came home to join and we washed down leftovers with Malbec while chatting the way girls do.

Here to There to Klingande

Saturday I was doing a test run on an app for a company wide photo scavenger hunt, so I enlisted Mel’s help and after some brunch, we bop around grabbing pics of ourselves in the city.  After 5+ miles of hiking, we decide to head back and post up at Whiskey Wallace before grabbing a pre-Klingande nap.

 

Excuse me?  Did you just ask what Klingande is?  Lovers, let me educate you – you can thank me later.
Jubel    RIVA    Somewhere New
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I saw him perform at Tomorrowland, so there’s no way I’m missing his CDMX performance.  We meet up with some Citizens – including my long lost roomie from my short stint in Belgrade, dance our little hearts out and pour outta the club around 4am.  As we’re debating Uber size, Sutton points to a stud behind me – its KLINGANDE HIMSELF!  I’m a <little> intoxicated, but I strike up a convo and we talk Tomorrowland (guys, he’s main staging next year) among other things for a good 10 minutes.  As I thank him for his time, he asks if I want a picture…. I was so busy fangirling, I for.got.the.pic.  We grabbed a quick snapshot and the crew and I Ubered off.  I poured myself into bed, still jazzed from the night, so I swiped my World Clock to see who I knew in the world still awake.  Kiwi and Hunter were the lucky winners subjected to my ramblings while I waited for sleep.  Solid dudes those guys.

 

That wraps up week one.  Stay tuned for week 2, coming to a blog screen near you soon enough.

Randomly Yours,

SR

Guess what? Pics are updated!