I arrived in Guanajuato at sunset. Walking off the bus, an impeccably dressed employee in a Futura Autobus uniform handed me a map, found the location of my hostel, and explained how to get there, by taking the bus to Pozuelos. Perfect.
At the bus station, I learned that the Pozuelos bus was closed, and I’d have to take a different one to get to the city. Shit.
I jumped in the other bus and we lurched toward the city. Soon we were descending into tunnel underpasses while I tried as best I could to squish myself into a comfortable position. With my backpack, I took up the room of two people; the bus barely had room for one. A friendly Spanish guy told me that I when this bus dropped me off, I could take a Pozuelos bus from there and still arrive where I wanted. Perfect.
I did just that, and when the bus dropped me off, I realized that… I had no idea where the hell I was. I found some friendly moto-taxi drivers, and they explained to me that not only was Pozuelos the wrong place to go, the bus rep had given me the wrong location for my hostel. Shit.
They gave me new instructions; the best option at this point was to walk, so I marched back into the street tunnels. Without room for streetlights, the tunnels were lit with the headlights of oncoming traffic. There was barely room for sidewalks either, and as I traipsed on the edge of the road, I repeated the instructions I’d been given. My spirits were high – looking for entropy, this was much more like it. The unknown has always energized me more than disheartened me.
When I emerged, it felt like I’d moved back in time. I was surrounded by beautiful architecture – imposing columnal theatres, inviting cafes, quaint restaurants resting behind a tree-lined walking street. Students dressed like they’d just participated in a Shakespearean play1I would soon learn, this was a tradition in the city – students formed bands, and took tourists on a music tour of the city at night. Really dope stuff. filled the city. And the instructions from the moto-taxistas were wrong, and I was lost again2Less shit, more darn. The surroundings were too cool to worry too much.
In all the commotion, I saw a couple resting on the sidewalk. As I approached, I noted their piercings – in every conceivable facial orifice – and the sign that read “Salvia – 50 pesos”.
“I don’t want Salvia, but could you help me find my hostel?”
They found my hostel on Google Maps, then proceeded to give me incorrect directions to it. I took a picture instead and found my way on my own.
It was a fitting introduction to the city of Guanajuato, where I spent 4 days. I met new people every day, often went out with them within minutes of meeting, and had great conversations. I learned a ton about the history of the city – it played a major part in the early stages of the Mexican Revolution. I tried Enchiladas Mineras – Miner Enchiladas – the local specialty. I even went on a spectacular hike called Cerro de la Bufa, which I had entirely to myself over the course of 2 hours. Despite all the time spent exploring, I never came to an intuitive understanding of its maze of streets and tunnels.
As with everyone, I met Smiley through mutual friends3How is quite convoluted – I met Priscilla at the hostel, and we all went out on Saturday night. While out, we met a group of locals, including a guy named Mario rocking a top hat. He lead us around for the night, from rooftop terraces to an upscale club, and got us in without a cover. It turns out Smiley had met Priscilla in another city, Queretaro, and was couchsurfing with Mario.. We shared a couple of fun days in the city, but this story starts on Tuesday, when we shared a Bla Bla Car to Guadalajara. For those like me who haven’t heard of the app, it’s similar to Uber for long distance trips.
I was new to Bla Bla Car, and would not have found this ride without Smiley’s help. We bused to the bus station, where we met our driver. Rolando was in his 40’s, a flute craftsman taking a trip to Guadalajara to give a workshop on flute repair. We stopped by Leon to pick up 2 more riders, and shared 4 hours intermittently chatting while he raced through the countryside streets. I got recommendations on food to eat in Guadalajara, drinks to try, and places to go.
Was this hitchhiking in 2019? Bla Bla Car seemed to be doing the same thing to hitchhiking that Couchsurfing or Airbnb have done to staying with strangers – providing a safety net while maintaining the core experience. Everyone in the car was kind – Mexicans would say buena onda – and I felt completely safe the entire time. It was a bit cramped, but cost less than half of the corresponding bus ride. Rolando even dropped us all off in the city center, way closer than we would have been riding by bus. Will I do it again? Almost certainly.
Miscellaneous Notes:
- There wasn’t a great place to put it in the story, but Smiley turned out to be a really cool dude. He’s living in Oaxaca City, and working remote part time for a nonprofit in New York that helps support and invest in traditionally disenfranchised communities – women and people of color. On the side, he’s been taking lessons in piano and voice, and recording music. He’s also one hell of a salsa dancer. He played me some of his tracks, and I can attest that he’s putting out heat. If you’re interested, check them out here.
- Part of what makes Bla Bla car so attractive is the fact that Mexico’s bus system is just… too fancy. A typical bus ticket for a 6 hour journey can cost about 30 dollars, and each seat comes with an in-seat entertainment system packed with movies. There doesn’t seem to be a cheaper substitute other than apps like Bla Bla Car.
- I’m not sure I’d describe myself as introverted, but I do need a day to myself every once in a while. Bus trips are usually great for that introvert recharge time, while other options like Bla Bla Car can be more wearisome when there is a lot of chatting. If don’t recharge on the journey between locations, I’ll eventually need to recharge in a stationary spot, and I’m not sure what’s the most efficient option. Still, very small problem to have.
