Guadalajara, Mexico

After fighting strong head winds south from Chicago’s O’Hare, I finally arrived in Guadalajara, Mexico, a modern city in Mexico’s center. The congested anomalous 6-laned highway into Guadalajara’s center was bustling with peppy 4-cyclindered cars, cab-heavy pick-ups and motorbikes. The smell of exhaust and industry took me back to my time in Thailand. Passing a rash of seedy table dance bars and dilapidated industrial factories, we reached our hotel, Hotel Occidental, situated down one of the many narrow cobble-stoned roads off of the main drag in the city’s center.
Second to Mexico City, Guadalajara is one of just a handful of cities in Mexico that is industrious and modernized. It is the birthplace of mariachi. Shops along the main streets sell breathtaking mariachi outfits and authentic cowboy gear for a hefty peso. And come evening, the streets are crawling with mariachi musicians, packs of them in their traditional garb, congregating on corners and hitchhiking rides. But you won’t see them playing for spare pesos on the street no, folks travel far and wide to request a song from these heralded musicians.

After a quick check-in at Hotel Occidental, we explored the Guadalajara by foot, hoping to catch a quick dinner at Restaurante Vegitariano, a vegan-friendly lead off the very populated Hiladgio. This street connects you to the hub of the city, a square of cathedrals and enormous ornate stone buildings and gorgeous fountains. With horse-drawn carriages, live music, cuddling couples on benches, the city was pulsing on a Friday night. But the restaurant: a dead-end, shacked up and no longer in business. A testament to how difficult it will be to find vegan food in Mexico.

We headed, instead, to an arty café my friends had hit the evening prior, Andre Breton Cafe, named after the daddy of surrealism. The unique space had a small stage, groups of hip and attractive young Mexicans and a large variety of beers to choose from. Upon grabbing a table, we were given a bowl of delicious chili-lime flavored mixed nuts. The café menu, however, was not very vegan-friendly, which I expected. But our sweet waitress worked with me and my fumbling Spanish to bring me a large salad with no carne, no leche, no queso… and it was quite good. Greens, pickles, tomatoes, olives, carrots and sprouts sprinkled with sesame seeds balsamic vinegar and oil.
After our eats and some drinks, a fantastic band took the stage. Eerily dressed against the black light bulbs above the stage, these four young talented guys pulled out a succession of instruments: brass, woodwinds, strings, and a huge variety of percussion and sound effects. They were young, cool and hip out the wazoo and we all felt we were home in Brooklyn. Which kind of got old quick.
On the way back we saw the first of Dia de los muertos goodies for sale at the night market.