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March 31 - El Paso
Entry 11 of 24 | show all | print this entry |
FRIDAY 31 MARCH - EL PASO. DAY 11
Today I went to Mexico. It is so easy, there wasn't even a border guard, let alone the rigorous grilling you get at the airport when entering the US. I guess they don't mind people leaving the US, it's the people coming the other way they worry about.
Mexico is quite different from El Paso, much more busy and poor-looking and, of course, there are even fewer non-Hispanics. Another notable difference is that there are hardly any chain stores, like McDonald's etc. I walked around Juarez (the city on the other side of the border, pop. 1.7 million). Everything is dirt cheap here because everyone is so poor. Feeling peckish I took a chance that a fairly upmarket food bar in an air-conditioned plaza might have someone who spoke a little English. Foolishly, I attempted to order something in Spanish and got myself into all sorts of problems. I ended up with some disgusting nachos, smothered in processed orange cheese sauce, a fairly tasty quesidilla and a yummy smoothie. About 25 pesos (US$3) all up.
When I had had enough of Mexico I headed back north of the border. Some guy had a quick glance at the front of my passport and ushered me through. Summoning all my energy I went into the Greyhound Station for another look for my bag. Amazingly, it had not arrived so I was 'allowed' to fill in a claim form. This will now be sent to Dallas, who will then send me a letter telling me that my bag has gone missing. Meanwhile I continue to walk around in my old clothes and gradually use the $140 worth of travellers cheques I cashed.
Met an Irish chap named Robert at the hostel and we decided to head down to Mexico for a few cheap beers in the evening. As we crossed the border we were set upon by lots of sleezy men trying to interest us in cheap prostitutes. We politely declined and went to a bar for a few Coronas. Somehow we met a local guy named Carlos, who was trying to get us to go in his taxi to a nearby 'club' with "sexy ladies". We asked him if he could recommend a good place to get a simple drink. He led us to a local cantina that I'm sure very rarely sees tourists. There were a few mustachioed guys in cowboy hats hunched over the bar and a portly lady in an apron serving tequilas. Carlos ordered us a round of beers and we played a bit of pool for a while. Carlos told us how he had just spent seven years in jail for drug dealing and assault and he showed us the numerous stab wounds on his chest. Rob and I looked at each other and quickly decided that we should probably get going.
We were feeling suitably lively at this stage after quite a few inexpensive beverages so we had a few more beers at another place and then headed back over the border. Robert was a bit cheeky to the border guard, pretending he was a Mexican trying to escape persecution. The border guard was not amused.
We came across a popular nightclub with a long queue but as I was still in the shorts and t-shirt that I had been wearing for about three days I thought I wouldn't get in and that we should go home. Robert said we should give it a go, so I told the bouncer that we were writers for Lonely Planet doing a piece on El Paso, and the, uh, Roxy Nightclub in particular. After a bit of convincing he let us in. Hee hee. There were loads of beautiful women there and with the confidence gained from all that beer we were walking up to girls left, right and centre with "you are so beautiful". Whether Spanish guys aren't smooth at all I'm not sure but these girls were virtually swooning over us two average-looking white guys.
Somehow, when we were very drunk, Rob and I got separated. I looked around but couldn't find Rob anywhere so I hung around for a little while then staggered back to the hostel.
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