Ah yes, sunny Mexico.
It is. The people are
wonderfully friendly.
I think the same about the French.
I thought the same about the Italians.
I never think about the Germans.
I never mind making a complete
fool of myself trying to speak
in the other languages.
I loved lounging in the hot
well-fed series of covered pools
at La Escondido, and the road
from San Miguel to Guanajuato!
The two-hour drive was a rather twisty,
turny, guardrail-less, mountainous
two-lane climb to the most
European of all Mexican cities.
The man I was with?
He fears old age as much,
if not more than I fear death.
He looks in the mirror many
times each day while running
his fingers through . . . his
ever-greying hair. He’s not
vain, just unsure he’s present.
Hasta babe,
she says as
she hurries out the door.