Shakespeare and Company

I would like to live or at least to work in this independent bookshop in Paris. It´s definetely one of the most charming I have seen so far if not the most charming of all. A peacefull oasis for a passing-by book-lover like me. The location could not be better: on the Left Bank opposite to Notre Dame, in the Latin Quarter.

Surprisingly enough, I found the owner George Whitman on one of the little rooms upstairs. He did not seem surprised at all that I just walked into his assumed bedroom which was naturally bursting with old books. Just signed me to come forward instead of backing out to the staircase. Seems that in this house you never know what you will find behind the next corner - it is a maze of books peppered with pianos, cats and little notes from the visitors. Really unique atmosphere, somehow magical and overwhelmingly cozy at the same time. Felt like stepping into another world, thousands of miles from the busy bank of Seine. Sussi in Wonderland, part 2.

Apart from selling both old and new books, the house hosts writers. There are some beds here and where, some sinks and coffee cups, among some other marks of life like backpacks and arm chairs occupied by someone reading his favourite novel.

Paris

Some lost soul has nicked my umbrella and hand cream from the front pocket of my backpack. Maybe while I was having a nap at Charles de Gaulle airport.

Shoe God gave me a punishment for trowing away my well-served sneakers back in Zihuatanejo. It was raining one whole day and my poor Crock-like shoes filled with cold water. I am cold all the time anyway, takes a while to re-adjust.

Feeling sligthly posh: bought 2 shirts at Champs Elysée. The shop was Zara, but anyway. Yesterday spent the day walking around Montmarte and the Opéra Quarter, on Wed visited Louvre and Notre Dame, on Tue the Eiffel Tower. Playing tourist guide.

This French keyboaed is driving me nuts. It is not Qwerty so I can not really type. Or it zill look like this; loqds qnd loqds of s,qll ,istqkes: Oh zell the French hqve to do everything on their ozn zqy.

Xochimilco y Frida Kahlo

Went to Xochimilco and had a relaxing ride on the canals. Pity that I didn´t have enough time to go until La Isla de las Muñecas. Instead I went to see the two houses in which one of my favorite painters, Frida Kahlo, lived with her husband Diego Rivera: La Casa Azul in Coyoacán (also Frida's childhood home) and Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo in the posh neighbourhoods of San Ángel. La Casa Azul is lovely, my dream house. I would like to live there but preferably without all the tourist zombies and a bit nearer to the sea. Bright blue walls surrounding a cozy bright green garden, loads of space and beautiful high ceilings. Was nice to see Frida`s bed and wooden leg. After the high expectations set by La Casa Azul, Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo was kind of a disappointment: for some reason I was waiting something bigger and more beautiful. It was almost like whatever functionalistic house. Part of the movie Frida (2002) was filmed there and based on the movie I imagined it much more interesting to visit than it actually was.

Saw some amazing views over the city from Torre Latino's 44th floor. This city is quite huge indeed. Makes a small-country-girl like me gasp. According to some sources Mexico City is the second greatest human concentration in the world after Tokyo. There is supposed to be around 25 million people living in this valley. Phew.

Bought a cheap alarm clock from a street stall. 45 pesos. Hopefully it wakes me up nice and neatly tomorrow morning 3AM, to avoid missing my flight. I don't want to leave... Or I want to come back before I have left. Without any intention I guess I managed to bury a little piece of my heart on the fine sands of one Pasific beach. Another piece lays in Altea, of course, and the rest god-knows-where.

I have changed my tortilla diet to a corn diet. To not to totally forget the darling tortillas, had some quesadillas for lunch at Xochimilco. Just 10 pesos each.

Teotihuacán

This morning I had the first hot shower in almost 3 weeks. Heaven. Washed all the sand, alligator babies and turtle eggs out of my braids. Although it's better to have a cold shower with friends than a hot shower with enemies or how did that old proverb go.

Went to Teotihuacán. Climbed some pyramids, took loads of pics, missed the beaches. Now I should go out and try to find a laundry service. Washing machine on the roof is still and most likely permanently broken and I´m fed up with hand washing. Also I should look for a shop which sells alarm clocks. After a steaming hot day now it´s raining cats and dogs so I guess I can't be bothered. Why do I want to buy an alarm clock, anyway? Because I took my mobile phone to the reception to be charged and got it back totally mute. The receptionist is just looking at me like I'm the biggest pain in his ass since his wife left with his best friend. Obviously it's way too bold to dare to ask what an earth might have happened to my little darling phone. So no much help on that direction. Probably my own fault anyway, maybe my charger or the adapter is broken. Hopefully I'll wake up on time tmw morning for some mystical reason. Monday is gonna be more tricky as the timing will be quite sub-human but hopefully I've got either working mobile phone or an alarm clock by then.

I don't want to go back to Dublin. Just the tought about it makes me slightly sick. Don't wanna stay here, either. Can I just go back to the Pacific coast?

Sleepless in México, D.F.

Took the bus through the nite (se puede "take" un autobus, no es la misma que cojerlo aqui:) ) and here I am again. However I wouldn't necessarely want to be here, already missing the beach and the people in Estado de Guerrero.

The bus ride was hidious. I was prepared to pleasant sleep and king-size seats like on my way to the other direction as I paid the same fee. The cruel reality was somehow crappy bus with quite small seats which made sleeping almost impossible. The journey seemed to feel much longer than 10 hours (long enough anyway). To make things worse, I didn´t manage to open the door of the toilet of the bus (!) - neither could the others I think - and couldn´t use the ear plugs to keep clear from the telenovelas. Ears quite infected, not a surprise after all the swimming. Don't dare to annoy them more with the plugs. There is a price to pay for every pleasure. At least for almost every pleasure. No free lunches, oh no.

Today I went to see the Frida Kahlo exhibition on Palacio de Bellas Artes. Luckily they had it still open. Will try to go to see her house on Sunday. Maybe. After all the queues to the exhibitions multiplied by sleepless nite on the bus and other quite sleepless nite back in Buena Vista, I felt so knackered that I took the tourist bus. One of the worst mistakes of my life as usual. It took 3,5 hours in this traffic to make 2/3 of the tour. Now my head hurts. I can not even wash clothes in the washing machine as I dreamed to. Poor thing is broken and the guy downstairs does not know when (if) it will be fixed.

This insomnia makes me crazy, I get irritated of all these tiny things. Also I get irritated by my own company. Which is even worse as it´s quite difficult to get rid of that.

When in México, do as the Méxicanos do

Have tortillas for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oops sorry breakfast not included.

Try to listen to the guys who are hanging on the bus doors and shouting weird names. "How do I know which bus should I take?" "They go shouting (se van gritando)." WTF? Okay, there seems to be a guy hanging on the door and shouting the final destination to all the people on the streets.

Need to go somewhere? For the elderly guys riding with burros, sombrero on the head, machete hanging on the side. For the rest of the world, sitting on the back of the pick up, or back of the ATV.

Would you like to live in a house with all mod cons? Window glasses, warm tap water, washing machine? Dream on, baby. What would those be for? But a hammock. Lots of hammocs.

Looking for things to do? Typical pass-time for 11-year-old kid: breaking coconuts with a machete, to get the delicious insides out. Looking for turtles laying their eggs. Lying in the hammock. Typical pass-time for Sussi: lying in the gently waving hammock, hating telenovelas and especially their soundtracks. Maybe occasionally having a cold beer or chatting with people or going for a swim.

Emergency Poncho

I just said good-bye to Mexicans A and J and their families and to all the rest. Good-bye to the Spanish A, Biologo de la Manana and his faitfull admirer R, and the Tres Mexican Caballeros. (Not to mention the rottening teeth on the roof, the symbol of freedom.) Not very likely I come back here soon, even though I would like to return when La Ut (please correct me, I´m not sure about the spelling) is raising from the sea. Erm. Adíos "padres adoptivos". Very young padres adoptivos, more like friends as they are not so many years older than me. But anyway, I am quite helpless in their world so felt a bit like a kid. Pfew. A bit lost now without these people. And without the hammocks.

Yesterday we went to the Playa La Saladita. It was just lovely: clear water, soft waves, some surfers on the horizon, only a few people around. J:s eldest daughter had an uncomfortable encounter with a ray while we were playing with the waves like a happy bunch of 11-year olds. After the beach A cooked some absolutely delicious fish on open fire and took us to see a little 1-day-old calf. Poor sap couldn´t eat ´cause his mummy´s tits were bursting with milk but A gave him some with a feeding bottle so today he was already strong enough to get his own dinner out of the mother cow by himself.

Yesterday I had two encounters with the Mexícan Police. The first one was with a friend of A, he just popped in to have a little chat. The next one was at the night on the beach: a group of four very well armed guys dressed all black, checking for the hueveros. Asking IDs from the poor Bíologo de la Mañana, who of course had none:D .