bustrip

My sister and I used to love Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, an attraction at Disneyland. We liked it for its title because, in fact, the ride was not as wild as the name promised.

The bus ride from Mexico City to Oaxaca proved to be a wild ride. I told M a few times to just close his eyes as we were passing cars, buses, tankers on parts of the road that were clearly no passing areas, including bridges, curvy mountain roads, even an onramp.

The most peculiar part of this way illegal maneuvering was that our driver would shut off the headlights as he was passing the other vehicles so that we were essentially in the dark. This was a method to this madness; he could more clearly tell how close (and it was super close) oncoming traffic was.

Most of the people waiting in the bus station were tired and sad (which made them tired) and so they were able to sleep through the Miley Cyrus movie where she saves sea turtles and falls in love while on summer vacation. However, I got to watch the movie while M stared into the deep darkness as we, as-fast-as-we-could, crossed bridges and mountain passes.

Once we arrived in Oaxaca, I pointed out the street with the posada, my Spanish school, and other landmarks. I felt as if I was back at home after a long weekend.

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