>Frente Frio

>I already felt like crap because of my cold, and did myself little good by walking around the cobbled narrow streets of Guanajuato last night. When I gave up and went to my ancient room–is it possible that the ceilings are 20 feet high?–I could barely move. The wind screamed–these little streets create odd wind tunnels, I guess–and I could feel the temperature dropping (that is, my feet could feel it–my face was burning up). Thank goodness the Patriots/Colts game was on TV (in Spanish, but so what?) so I could just curl up and do nothing but wait for the fever/chills to subside. The Patriots looked great.

Before I collapsed, though, I went in search of dinner and ended up in a little loud college bar, La Botellita, decorated with, um, little bottles. Had a couple of beers and some tacos and tried to remember the story, mentioned in yesterday’s post. It didn´t come back, darn it, but I sketched a new one. Lesson: get up and write it down when the inspiration comes.

It is Monday, and most of the attractions I want to visit here are closed today–the Cervantes museum (Guanajato is the home of the International Cervantes Festival every October) and the Diego Rivera Birthplace and Museum. So I’m just wandering around. I’m feeling better, at least.

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