Two Tornadoes: Oaxaca city

I woke up this morning and laughed; it was basically a one-night stand. We had just met and then slept in the same bed. 

After emails, phone calls, planning, and a lot of anticipation, my bicycling partner Kathy Retired Math Teacher from California and I united yesterday, at our pre-chosen meet spot of Hostel Pochon (sleeping arrangements in hostels are such that two beds are pushed together to make one large one, thus the sharing of sleeping space).

Amazingly, February 9th 2016 was the day we had randomly met in Colombia (meaningful only later, when she figured out this random girl on the warmshowers network was actually indeed the traveler she had chatted up in Colombia) and today is February 9th 2017. Exactly a year later.  

How was your journey?! When did you get here?! Can I see your bike? I can't wait to show you the town! I love your bag! You travel so light! I can't wait to go out for food! It's so beautiful here! It's so great to meet you! 

All these and more exploded out the moment we saw each other, and we didn't stop exclaiming and enthusing and eagerly interupting each other until we were both slack jawed upon seeing the full moon over the cathedral. 

S: (in a moment of observing)"We are like two tornados!"  
K: "I know! I get so excited! But you are more calm."
A: "But I am not, really. Which says something about YOU." 

Kathy is unapologetically outgoing, with expressive playful salt-n-pepper hair, wired with muscle. We're both incredibly excited to be in Oaxaca, in a blender of beautiful input from this place and enthusiastic output to each other: blender speed Liquidate, we're talking so fast. 

I simply don't have the words to describe the charm that is Oaxaca. Famous for its hot chocolate, mole, mescal, and architecture, I felt like I was in a national geographic upon seeing the full moon in the clear sky above the intricate cathedral last night. 5,000 feet above sea-level, mountains are visible stretched above the narrow brick streets, brightly painted orange and blue and pink houses are studded with wrought-ironq balconies. Parks and cathedrals are plentiful, lending itself to congregations of relaxing or busy humanity. The place is spotlessly clean and feels impeccably safe, locals and tourists padding about. The town was alive with music and lit streets last night; nightlife usually feels inaccessible to me when I travel, but I felt I couldq participate here. I sat on a wee cushy chair and had mescal and enjoyed a live bluesy-jazzy gig, Ms Blond Gloria Yoga Teacher introduced herself to me and shared tips about the town, she's been here 11 years. 

A crowd gathered in the dark around the cathedral: a drum-ful beatsy soundtrack played filling the park and echoing off the buildings as colored lights were projected in patterns on the stone edifice of the church. A humongous skull was traced, as if in the antiquated Paint on PC computers, then colored in with red, pink, blue. I gaped through the agave plants at this exhibit: never have I experienced art in this way, so central, on a church, edgy like Frida Kahlo, slightly macabre but not threatening, compelling because of the driving drums. 

Nighttime art on the cathedral, drum soundtrack fills the air as this skull is traced on the edifice

Accessible nightlife, beautiful humanity congregating in the plaza

Oaxaca is famous for its food: Kathy and i ate in this restaurant last night. I arbitrarily chose something from the Ensalada section and was served a tender bed of kale (Fred!) topped with grilled pina triangles individually wrapped in a local herb. And there were figs. Heaven.

The lights inset into the bricks indicate a bike lane

Assembled ikea-style from its box

I am finally no longer carting around a humongous wheely box. I'd arranged with a warmshowers host in Oaxaca to store it for the next 30 days for me. From the airport I caught a publico taxi to his house, dragged my box onto the front porch, and set about unpacking and reassembling as Avid Alex avidly talked to me during the entire process. Handlebars reconnected to front fork, seat slid back in, wheels coaxed into place and aligned, brakes adjusted, rack screwed into place.

How bizarre to mount and pedal and ride a mechanism that had just been in a pile. I hooked on my paniers and rode into town (like a fledgling bird, astounded at itself in first flight) to find my hostel and meet Kathy, box happily left behind.

I am so grateful the bike had traveled well and that the assembly was straightforward and that Avid Alex would store my box and that I am in this excuisite town.