World Wanderers

My name is L and my bf´s name is X and we love to travel.

[worldwanderers]

A different light, a different city

“Ciudad Condal” is one of the names by which the city of Barcelona is known. In English it can be translated simply as "county" —which is a word very well-known in the UK and the US—, but, more than a territorial delimitation, it has its origin in the domains of the once powerful Counts of Barcelona.

It might sound like not a big deal, but for Catalans —the inhabitants of the Spanish region of Cataluña— this name of their city is very important. It underscores the fact that they used to be independent from the rest of the country and ruled by a Count, different from the King of Spain. Unfortunately for them, at some point in history they were annexed to the Spanish Crown. But, the Catalans have never forgotten their history, and some of them still claim for their independence from the Spanish Kingdom.

After spending with my boyfriend (X) three days and two nights in Madrid —the capital of the realm—, we finally took a train from Atocha Station and three hours later we arrived at our new base for the rest of our 10 weeks in Europe: Barcelona. It was, literally, like entering another country. Buildings were in decline, not as manicured as in Madrid, and the people were much surlier, without the refinement that one can see anywhere in the capital.

We are not going to lie, we felt quite shocked by the contrast between both cities. We surfaced from the subway at Paral-lel Station with our bags and we had to walk two blocks until our temporary accommodation —a small pension that we found on booking— but we felt very insecure. As if the guys who were walking down the street with baggy clothes, looking as if they had just gotten up, were waiting for some unsuspecting person to rob him.

We walked very fast through all the people in Paral·lel and finally calmed down once we arrived to the pension. Nevertheless, we didn`t had too much time to relax because we had to take a quick shower and get ready to see an Irish friend of X. He was going to lend us his apartment for nine weeks once he returned to Dublin to resume his work. It was the first time that I was going to meet him, and I wanted to make a good impression.

And, of course, it took me so long to get ready that we joined him half an hour late at a bar very close to our pension. My first impression of the Irishman was that —just like the eponymous Scorsese’s movie— he was from another time. His English sounded different, his manners were very distinctive, and he had a charm that I had only seen in movies from the 70s and, maybe, beginnings of the 80s. X hadn`t seen him in at least one decade, but it was like only ten days had passed and soon they were making jokes and talking about everything and nothing.

The Irishman took us to another local bar where the service was bad —later we would learn that this was the norm in Barcelona—, but the food was good. The waitress, an older Catalan woman, looked at us with mistrust in her eyes because it was obvious that we were foreigners. But the Irishman was not discouraged by her attitude; he spoke to her in his Irish version of Spanish and, after the fifth bottle of cava, she became friendlier and the alcohol and tapas started to arrive faster.

When the bar closed, the three of us were so drunk that we stumbled through the streets of Barcelona. The Irishman was telling us in a rather loud voice about his experiences in the city while we were passing through the neglected and dangerous streets that we saw when we arrived. Suddenly, they seemed quite different.

Barcelona revealed itself to us —while the Irishman continued speaking— as a free and equalitarians society. Everybody could be next to everybody, no matter their background, clothes, or income. All of a sudden, the “Ciudad Condal” appeared to us in a different light and we started to suspect that these 10 weeks in Barcelona were going to be an enriching experience. Could it be life-changing? Who knows…?

[worldwanderers]

Nobility and novelty

Downtown Abbey —the British historical television drama— not only shows us how the aristocracy lived in the early twentieth century; it also shows that a “spicy” comment or a piece of malicious gossip it is better received if it is said with class.

The main characters of the show achieve this with no effort: sitting in a marvelous sewing room, with a cute little hat on their heads and a footman serving them tea. One of them could even insult someone's mother and, along with the clink of the spoon in the porcelain cup and the music in the background, even the worst of words would sound charming. In the real world the wronged could come to blows, but in a room with a flowered tapestry they only might wrinkle their noses.

Since we saw that TV show, my boyfriend (X) and I were fascinated with all European mansions and palaces. When we read that the Liria Palace in Madrid —private home of the Dukes and Duchesses of Alba among centuries— would be open to the public for a few months, we bought the tickets right away. There is nothing more fun than sneaking around a place still inhabited by its owners. And if they are from the nobility, it is even better.

Due to COVID-19 restrictions, we had to make an appointment to visit the palace. To arrive there we walked about 15 blocks from our hotel in the city center, which gave me the idea that this was where the city used to end when the palace was built. The first thing we did on the guided tour was watching a video that confirmed my theory; in the XVII century, a palace so big could only be built in the outskirts of an already crowded city like Madrid.

In the video they also mentioned the best-known inhabitant of the palace, the late Duchess of Alba: Cayetana Fitz-James Stuart. She was a “socialite” very well known in the magazines and very parodied for the excess of surgeries on her face and her flamboyant style. But, of course, in the introductory video she was shown as cute little blond girl riding her favorite horse. An image quite distant from the one so widely known of her. It was like a preamble that, by visiting her palace, we would see things the way she wanted us to see them.

Although the façade has more than three centuries, the interior is relatively new, as a fire destroyed almost everything at the beginning of the 20th century. The reconstruction of the palace embodies the tastes of the last two heirs of the Duchy of Alba; Cayetana's father and herself. The sobriety and refinement of the salons contrasts with the caricatured image of the Duchess, with the hair white as a dandelion and a small triangle instead of a nose.

All the rooms are organized in the way of a French palace, with one room connected to the next to display the abundance of furniture and works of art. The guided tour spoke about the Rubens, the Goyas and other masterpieces decorated the palace`s walls, but we were more interested in the photos that were display discreetly on top of the many desks and tables, where the Duchess appeared with royal figures such as Queen Elizabeth II, who had written a personal dedication to her “dearest Cayetana”.

And of course —as in any other palace or museum in Spain— photos weren`t allowed inside. So, we had to conformed ourselves with our weak memory or pay 25 Euro for the book with the photos and stories of the Liria Palace, that we just heard but we would probably forget in a couple of weeks. It is also the perfect kind of memorabilia that we love to collect from all the places we visit. Not so much for the novelty: for us it is the equivalent of writing in one of the Duchess’s walls: “X and L were here”.

[worldwanderers]

Piece by piece

In the middle of Madrid there is a park above a hill that gives shelter to the Egyptian temple of Debod. Those stones were carved many centuries before any other building in the city. When my boyfriend (X) and I arrived there, we were flabbergasted what was doing a building so old in the middle of one of the main capitals of Europe?

The official answer —for some well-meaning people— would be “gratitude” from the Egyptian people. When they were doing the Aswan High Dam in the Nile River there was a flood, and a lot of temples were in danger of ending up under water. Many countries helped Egypt to move the temples to higher grounds. As a way to say thank you, the Egyptian government “donated” a few ancient temples to the United States and a bunch of European countries, Spain among them.

Therefore, instead of ending up at the bottom of the Nile, the temple of Debod is now a few blocks from the Royal Palace of Madrid. The Spanish Government brought it there a few decades ago —piece by piece— with the latest technological advancements of the time. They haven´t just reassembled it there, they were also very careful to place it in the same position related to the sun, as it was built in Egypt thousands of years ago.

We walked from our hotel in the city center to this park (Parque del Oeste) with the main purpose of seeing the Egyptian temple with our own eyes. We visited Egypt five years ago and we had already seen a few temples like that —some bigger and better preserved—. Nevertheless, the temple of Debod seemed very different from the rest; the endless dessert, the dust and the heat were replaced by a more benign environment of trees, shade and a pond that surrounds the building.

We went to the queue to enter the temple, but we arrived near the end of the visiting hours and there were more than fifteen people waiting before us. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, just ten people were allowed to get inside the temple for a maximum period of twenty minutes. We waited for half an hour, but the line didn't seem to move. We decided to check the building from the outside. It was not big, and it was easy to walk around its entire perimeter, despite the heat of Madrid’s Summer.

If those ancient stones came to life right now they would probably say "You call this Summer?." But, of course, they never had to deal with really low temperatures. I bet they never “saw” any snow in their long existence until they spent their first European Winter here. It can be very cold in Madrid in January or February, even for stones. I was thinking in all that when a popular English expression came to my mind: “If walls could talk”.

X turned to ask me if I was saying something, but I was still lost in my world. Those Egyptian walls could tell a thousand of stories; not only from Egypt, but also from their new home. Probably they would have learned a little bit of Spanish by now and would be more familiarized with European customs. They were brought here, but now they merged with the local fauna and the city skyline. The temple wasn`t purely Egyptian any more, but neither Spanish. It had become a fascinating hybrid between two distant cultures.

X and I were about to become the Peruvian version of the Temple of Debod; we brought ourselves “piece by piece” to our new home; after having to go through several phases, such as traveling to the United States to get vaccinated and fulfill all the requirements to enter Europe. Although, in our case, it was something that we wanted. Now —after the ten weeks that we are planning to stay here— we might become a hybrid of cultures ourselves.

[worldwanderers]

A cat-walk in Madrid

From the day I set foot in Madrid for the first time, it has always been a delight to walk through its streets. Although it is always even better to do it in the company of a “gato”, which means “cat” in Spanish, but It is also how those who have lived in the city for several generations call themselves.

“On that street over there my mother used to buy her furs” is one of the first quotes I recall our friend, Mr. Gato saying, when we first met him. I was with my boyfriend (X) and a couple of friends walking through Madrid’s downtown and they decided to call a friend that lived nearby. When he joined us, it was like having the living memory of the city at our side.

Not only had Mr. Gato lived all his life in Madrid, but he knew every street and had a lot of stories about almost all of them. We went out for a “tapas night” — that, in Spain, means to go for little snacks and beers— and we became instant friends. The next day, he invited us to his apartment in Casa de Campo, a lovely neighborhood in Madrid, where we met the other Mr. Gato, his lifelong boyfriend and husband-to-be.

Although the other Mr. Gato is not from Spain —he is Chilean—, he had been living there for more than a decade and, with a partner like Mr. Gato, he already became a local. We hit it off right away and from that moment, every time we were passing through Madrid, we always went out with them to have drinks in a marvelous restaurant of their choosing and to tell them where we were going. Spain was never our final destination.

This time, however things were different. When we settled in our hotel, we texted them to let them know that we were in Spain. They were quite surprised; we hadn`t told them about our trip in advance as we always used to. Even so, they made time for us in their busy schedule. We had a lot to talk about; we had all just survived a pandemic and life was not the same. However, the streets of Madrid were packed solid with people.

Mr. and Mr. Gato met us in “Picalagartos”, a bar in the terrace of a hotel in the Gran Via —one of the main avenues of the city— to enjoy some fancy drinks while the sun was setting with Madrid’s skyline of background. We literally had the city at our feet. We were so impressed by the view that we —mostly me— stumbled a bit while relating the story of how we decided to move to Spain for two months due to my work’s leave.

They both seemed quite excited with our plans, until we told them that we would not be staying in Madrid but in Barcelona. Like many “gatos”, they don`t like Barcelona; they can’t understand why they want their independence from Spain and, most of all, they really dislike the laid-back attitude of Barcelonians and their stubbornness to keep alive his own language: Catalan.

After giving them our “shocking news”, we went down through the city for more “tapas”. Madrid’s nights in summertime are very lively. It seemed like —maybe due to the 31 ºC ever during the evening— everybody was out. Still, we had a very pleasant evening and were able to move away from yet another complicated topic. However, Mr. and Mr. Gato did not miss the opportunity to warn us about the increase in the crime rate in Barcelona. This left us wondering what to expect…would the city have changed a lot from how we remembered it?

[worldwanderers]

Our second home: Spain (The Eurotrip begins)

“¡Es que es tu casa!” (It is your home!) is what an old Spanish lady would say to make you feel welcomed. And that is —in a way— what Spain is for us (Peruvians): a sweet and loud grandmother, happy that you are visiting her, but also eager that you follow her rules and respect her customs.

Every time we have traveled to Europe in the past we have almost always entered through Madrid. Even back when we needed a Schengen visa —since 2016 it is no longer required to Peruvians—, Spanish authorities were very uncomplicated and always let us in with open arms. However, due to the pandemic there were new regulations in place that we had to fulfill if we wanted to go through immigration control.

I took the precaution to fill all the information we required —names, dates, and the type of COVID-19 vaccine we had received— and saved the QR codes of the formats while my boyfriend (X) was packing. We were about to leave the country for a couple of months, and we had a lot of things to do ahead of that. As it usually happens, we finished with everything just a few hours before our flight`s departure, and we had to rush to the airport to catch our plane.

At the airline counter in Lima, a guy revised our documents to check that all our papers were in order. We had passed the first filter, however we wouldn`t be able to relax until we entered Spain officially. The waiting on the gate, the boarding of the plane and the 12-hours flight happened in the blink of an eye. All of the sudden we were in front of a migration officer that asked us: “How long are you staying in Spain?”

The best thing one can do —and you should take this as friendly advice— is always tell the truth, no matter how difficult it is to process. “Ten weeks!” we said in unison, with a big smile in our faces (We had agreed in advance that saying "two months" would sound too much.). Another vital piece of advice is that one should never talk too much, all the question should be answer with the bare minimum. The migration officer looked at us, looked at our papers and after a brief consideration, he put the stamp on our passport and told us: “Welcome to Spain”.

After that, we already had one foot in Spain, although they still could send us back to Peru; a COVID-19 control was still pending. Since we got the Pfizer vaccine in the United States, in our vaccination cards only appears our first name and surname. We were still afraid they would say something because it does not exactly match the information in our passports, in Peru we use both our paternal and maternal last names.

We walked as nonchalantly as we could to catch the train to terminal T4. There, before we went to pick up our suitcases, a team of nurses in medical gowns checked our QR codes. They looked at me and let me pass —without showing them any vaccination card— but they asked X for his card. I had to assist him, because I was carrying all our documents, and soon they let him pass without much fuss.

That was the last checkpoint we were officially in European territory! Before we could even celebrate, we were leaving the arrivals area of the airport. Our ten weeks of living abroad had officially begun, after several months of careful planning. Looking back, it wasn't that difficult, although it did took us a series of steps to get exactly where we were. We had finally arrived at our new temporary home.

[worldwanderers]

A world of possibilities

At home, my boyfriend (X) always buys on Amazon travel guides of remote places would like to go to at some point. Due to COVID-19 travel restrictions, the borders of almost every country were closed but the books kept coming home during the pandemic.

Now we literally had a pile of possibilities, and we needed to consider where we would like to spend the next couple of months. The two-month leave that I had to take at work this year is something that it might not happen ever again. After two visits to the United States to get the Pfizer vaccine, our prospects had tripled. Many countries have set as a requirement to be vaccinated to allow visitors to enter.

Now we did not have Costa Rica or Colombia as our only options; we could also go to Iceland or —our goal from the beginning— any country in Europe. The Summer season in the Northern hemisphere had just started and we couldn’t wait to get some sun and relax for little a bit, after one and a half years of stress at work and an avalanche of fake news on social media.

To be honest, all other potential destinations were eclipsed now the old continent was actually a possibility. Although, the requirements for travelling to travel were changing constantly —depending on the country— and the local airlines kept postponing the date to resume their regular flights to Europe. Ten days before the date we wanted to depart, we finally got something clear: the only option we really had was Spain and maybe France, the other European countries weren’t open to outside tourism.

Spain was not our first option —we were thinking more in Italy—, but we’ve always had a good time when passing through Barcelona or Madrid at the beginning or the end of a longer trip. Also, we have a lot of friends in both cities. X spoke with an Irish friend that had been living in Barcelona for a year, to ask him how was everything with the pandemic and all that, and out of the blue he offered us his apartment to stay. He had to return to Dublin for work.

These unexpected circumstances made our decision process lot easier that had it to be. Everything was starting to fall into place, like the pieces of a very complex puzzle that was finally taking shape in our heads. Destiny had placed Spain on our path and we welcomed it with open arms. What awaited us there?

[worldwanderers]

The Medici’s touch at the MET

Since I can remember, the best bookmark that I ever had was my own index finger. I would never lose it, it didn't bend and, best of all, it was always close at hand. That was one thing that I have in common —as I could see in many of their portraits— with the richest and most powerful family of Italian Renaissance: the Medicis.

We saw pictures of dozens of dashing gentlemen and flamboyant ladies with elaborate finery and expensive jewels, but then I noticed that they could not afford a decent bookmark. Let's not talk about gold or silver, it could have been made of silk or even parchment, but they didn’t have even that. A lot of these elegant people appeared with their finger marking the page of the book they were reading while being immortalized for the centuries to come.

These are the kind of details that I really enjoy whenever my boyfriend (X) and I go to an art gallery or a museum. Since we have our MET membership —actually, X have it and I am only his plus one—we couldn't miss the opportunity, while we were in New York, to return to the museum just to see the exhibition “THE MEDICI: Portraits & Politics 1512-1570”.

Several works of art were on display: from portraits and sculptures to dresses and jewelry. At the exhibition entrance we were greeted by a bronze bust of the Medici’s patriarch, Cosimo, whose silver eyebolts seems to follow you around the room. Then, a paragraph printed on the wall introduce the visitors to a family history of murders, rebellion, betrayal, and infamous wealth.

The picture of a lady in a pink dress was one of my favorites; her sleeves lined with sable fur, her finger marking the page of her prayer book and her look so haughty that you feel inferior just looking at her. Another portrait I really enjoyed —also a lady with a glacial look —was that of Eleonora Toledo, Duchess of Florence, whose bearings, and jewels seemed worthy of a queen. One of her dresses was in a display case for everyone to see the luxurious garments she used to wear.

Another favorite was the portrait of a man wearing French-style clothes that —and I knew this only after reading the description of the painting— Nicholas Machiavelli wrote "The Prince" for. Despite the sound advice of the book about how to rule and manipulate his subjects, he never had any real power. He was just a very well-dressed dumbhead. Something quite unusual in the family, as most of the men were portrayed in military armor or royal robes to show their worth.

Something interesting about this exhibition was the loans that were made between museums. Some had not yet been able to arrive to due to the COVID-19 restrictions in transportation. Other paintings, however, were next to their twins —as others that were part of the same series—after several hundreds of years; like two portraits of different people that were painted on the same background, a bright green cloth. It was a moving family reunion, at least for the connoisseurs.

With that touch of elegance, wealth, and lust for power —so characteristic of the Medici— we said goodbye to New York. Now that we were fully vaccinated with the two doses of Pfizer, we could return to Lima and start planning our next adventure. Where it would be?

[worldwanderers]

Rain, New York Style

There are few things that we do not know how to deal with when we travel, and one of them is the rain. In Lima, it never rains, it just drizzles. One of our worst nightmares is that the sky would fall upon our heads, and that is precisely what happened to us on this trip.

When the storm began, my boyfriend (X) and I were shopping at IKEA in Brooklyn. We didn’t even bother to check the weather; we were more concerned thinking about how we were going to make all our purchases fit in a large suitcase to go back to Peru. We just love that store; we can’t refrain ourselves there. If we lived in a big metropolis like New York, we would be poor, although our home would be extremely well decorated.

When we went out with two big bags, we just realized the flood we were facing. This time we had made the bad decision to book a hotel in Long Island. The place was charming, but far from everywhere. We used the Uber App to see how much it would cost us to get back to our hotel, but the ride was at least two hundred dollars. That would more than double our budget.

Our original plan was to take a bus to the train station, so the smartest thing to do would be to take a taxi there. Trains to Long Island run only every hour, so we had a limited time if we wanted to get there. The Uber driver picked us up from IKEA and we told him to go as fast as he could; we still had to buy our tickets before boarding the train. Driving in the rain and carrying two passengers in a hurry, we probably were the worst nightmare of any cab driver.

Luckily for us, he took the train to Long Island regularly and he knew exactly how it worked. He was driving with one hand while with the other he helped us download the App to purchase the train tickets online. All this in the middle of a downpour. Finally, we arrived at the train station, we ran to the gate —he even told us on which gate our train would depart— and we made it just in time.

But our “aquatic” adventure did not end there. When we got to the final station in Long Island, we found out we were so far away from everything that Uber had no coverage in that area at that hour. The only way to get a taxi was to stand in the rain and wait for someone to stop.

Thankfully, a car with a sign that said "Taxi Chito" stopped a few minutes later. It was a local company and they even spoke Spanish. We were saved by another Latino, who brought us back to our hotel safe and —as far as possible— dry.

After that, we made a mental note of always check the weather before leaving our hotel and, above all, to stay closer to Manhattan every time we travel to New York

[worldwanderers]

A plane’s night dream (Pfizer's second dose)

My mom loves to travel —I inherited that from her—, but she does not like to go back to a city she’s already been to. My boyfriend (X) and I returning to New York City after 21 days is the epitome of what she would not approve.

However, we had a good excuse to go back to Manhattan; we came for the second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. This time it was easier than the first—although that was not complicated at all—, and we knew exactly what to do. X already had a SIM Card with a US phone number, so it took us no time to schedule an appointment and go to the nearest pharmacy for the shot.

In less than an hour, we were already fully vaccinated with Pfizer. After that, X asked me “What do you fancy eating?”. It was surreal. I wasn’t fully awaken since I had not been able to sleep during the eight-hours flight from Peru, and suddenly I saw myself following X to “Eataly”, an Italian marketplace that also have a few bars and restaurants.

We hadn`t eaten Italian in a while —last time was three weeks ago, when we came for the first dose of Pfizer— and I had cravings for arancini, which are Italian rice balls stuffed could with something delicious. X asked in Customer Service where we can find them, and they sent us to the corner of one Marketplace, to a counter with the word “Serra” behind. We asked if they had an available table, it seemed like a very small place, and they pointed us to a small elevator, which we took.

When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, I had to rub my eyes because it seemed like I was still dreaming. The restaurant wasn’t just big, it occupied the entire terrace of the building! The whole place looked like the roof of a greenhouse, with vines falling from the ceiling. The feeling that I was in a dream loop remained. There, we finally tried the arancini and other delicacies, but the most interesting thing was that they had drinks that you could customize according to your mood.

On our way back to the hotel, we decided to pass through the Apple Store of Grand Central. We looked for the charismatic Genius that helped us the last time —and called X boring for wanting all his devices in black—. When we were about to give up, we found her. She looked stunning, her hair ironed, her nails manicured… It was the same person we remembered, but she looked different, more sophisticated.

When we tried to get closer to her, a guy came out to keep us from interrupting her. We realized that she must have had an important position in the store. She heard that we were looking for her, she stopped what she was doing, and then she remembered us. We started to joke as old friends and she helped us with what we wanted to buy. Although, somehow it was weird. I felt I was in a dream, like when you see a person you know in real life but in an unusual position or situation.

One hour later we arrived at our hotel satisfied that we had achieved everything we had planned, but a hint of doubt came over me. What if I was still on the plane on my way to New York and all this was just a dream? What if I had to do all of this over again? I pinched my arm just to be sure and I felt a particular pain that I only felt once, precisely after my first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. Everything was in order.

[worldwanderers]

A farewell to Mexico

Our trip to Mexico came to its end. We enjoyed their delicious gastronomy; we got to know a part of their history we didn’t knew and we were even able to participated on a cultural event like Gay Pride. Before leaving, my boyfriend (X) asked me: “Could Mexico be the place we spend your two months of work’s leave?”

As much as we like this beautiful country, and we are a bit jealous of how Mexican society is at least twenty years ahead of our country (Peru) in terms of rights and equality, in many other aspects Mexico City is like Lima, only bigger. It is not just that we are very similar —ethnically speaking— but our language, values and customs are very much alike.

And we want this unique experience —of living abroad for a whole two months— to be something alien to us. Something that we wouldn’t have dreamt of in a place where we would end up learning a lot about a different culture, about like and even —who knows— a new language.

I could see ourselves living in Mexico, maybe near Paseo de la Reforma —one of the main avenues in Mexico City—, going to the theater or a museum, and trying new dishes in several restaurants in the city, but that wouldn’t be different enough from our life in Lima was before COVID-19.

I think this pandemic has taught us to be more aware that our time here is very limited and there are still many new experiences to live. So, after a brief talk with X, we decided that we would love to spend more time in Mexico but later on.

Right now, we are still looking for the place where we are going to spend the next couple of months. So, for now, this is not a good-bye, Mexico dearest, just a farewell.

[worldwanderers]

The Red Grasshopper (El Chapulín colorado)

In Latin America the children of my generation had their own Mexican superhero: el Chapulín Colorado (The Red Grasshopper). He didn’t have any real superpowers, fascinating gadgets, or remarkable physical strength, but he had a kind heart and was very skillful to solve any conflict (also to get in trouble himself).

I had known the fictional character almost all my life: he wore a red custome with a big yellow heart on his chest and two vinyl antennas. What I did not know until very recently was that he was supposed to represent a bug, like Ant-Man or Spiderman. “Chapulín” means grasshopper in Mexico. This word comes from the Aztecs and these little insects are the ones that give their name to one of Mexico City’s milestones: Chapultepec (which means the Hill of the Grasshoppers.)

On my first trip to Mexico with my boyfriend (X), he took me to the place he most loved when he came by himself: Chapultepec Castle. This is built on top of a hill in Chapultepec Forest. The place is huge: with a lot of run tracks, food stands, vegetation and even a lake. It is hard to imagine that there is an actual castle on top of everything.

When I entered the gates of the Castle, I was somehow transported to Europe. The stone walls of the façade and the style of the building reminded me much of Versailles and the Hofburg palace in Vienne. The interior was divided in two: you could visit the museum with part of Mexican history first and then go to the rooms where the rulers of Mexico lived more than a century ago.

We started our tour with Pre-Hispanic Aztec art and pictures of the Spanish conquest, a process similar to what happened in our country (Peru), but then we entered to the republican era —when the Mexican Revolution took place— suddenly all seemed very different. At that point, Mexico´s history greatly distanced itself from what happened in Peru. They achieved a higher sense of identity as a country and equality among all races; black, white, and indigenous felt united as Mexican, equally. In Peru we are still looking for something that unites us.

After that, we went to the more European salons and we learned about the tragic history of Maximilian and Charlotte, the emperor and empress of Mexico. Both were descendants from one of the most important dynasties of Europe, the Habsburg, and were brought to Mexico to rule. Unfortunately for them, they collided with the privileges of the powerful Mexican elite and the emperor ended up being shot and the dowager empress lost her mind.

We left Chapultepec castle with a new vision of Mexico, its history, and its people. Almost immediately, we went to a bookstore to find a book about the last — and so far, only — emperor of Mexico. I went to that visit looking for my childhood superhero but ended up learning a lot from an amazing period of Mexican history.

Curiously enough, the only red grasshopper we saw during our three-hour visit to Chapultepec Castle was in a stained glass in the stair hall, where a big bright red insect appears as a giant monster perched on top of the hill.

[worldwanderers]

Our Mexican Rainbow Tour

When my boyfriend (X) and I plan our vacations and we have to choose a date, it usually coincides —without knowing it— with an important date in the country we are going to.

Our holidays are twice as special as we could ever had planned when we end up

participating in local celebrations. That happened to us in Thailand when we arrived in Songkram (Thai new year), also in the Balkans where we ended up collecting easter eggs at Orthodox Easter or when we celebrated in a beach near Barcelona the Sant Joan festivities with fireworks included.

Luckily for us, Mexico was not the exception. When leaving the airport, we saw a lot of rainbow flags in the streets and once we arrived to our hotel, the receptionist told us that today was the Gay Pride. And, nonetheless, our hotel was just in the middle of the “Zona Rosa” which is the neighborhood where all the gay bars, gay discotheques and gay stores are.

X and I decided to change our plans a bit. We did some tourism sighting and finished in the “zocalo de Mexico” (the main square), where the concentration of the Gay Parade would be. We entered into a store to buy face masks with the rainbow flag - since we are still in a pandemic - and the salesman told us that this year's parade would not be the same as the others, since there would be no stage or show.

Getting to the plaza was complicated, as there were many people coming and going through the side streets, but once we got there we saw a whole display of people showing the diversity and tolerance that existed in Mexico. I must confessed that I felt a little bit jealous (Peru is like a decade behind), but I also felt welcome and include in celebrations.

X loved to take pictures and he made pretty good ones with his new iPhone. people of all races, of all bodies, of all preferences. Some showing some skin, with transparencies, in drag or dresses like any other day. We also discovered new flags: the one of the bears, the bisexual, the one of the lesbians.

It was a party on the streets, a party that continued later on the locals of “Zona Rosa” until the very next day

[worldwanderers]

Mexican Food (the real thing, finally!)

The first time my boyfriend (X) tried Mexican food was in 2013 in the must fake place on earth: Disneyland. The place looked like the scenery of a western, but the food —surprisingly— was very good.

We had decided to try this scenography restaurant because we were hungry after three hour of riding on roller coasters. Women wore white suits with colorful details and the men hats and vests. The place was supposed to be a typical Mexican tavern, but everything looked very polished and plastic

Despite the place, the food and —most of all— the chilis were pretty good and X ended up loving Mexican food. Back home (in Peru) we had tried some Mexican restaurants, but they didn't tasted like the real thing. Actually, the food was pretty lousy. Peruvian gastronomy is also very good and sometimes other gastronomies have a hard time in our country trying to match the local taste.

Thus, every time we travelled to the US (specially Los Angeles or New York) we would go duly at least once to eat Mexican. As you may expect, the first thing we did when we went to Mexico (together for the first time ) was to plan where we would go to eat. X had a list of the top restaurants in the city and we, basically, designed a gastronomical tour with Google Maps.

One place that we loved was "Salon Rios", an old dance hall with a very fancy bar as the main feature of the restaurant. The waiters were not only friendly, but efficient. They quickly brought us the ton of food that we had ordered. There, we learned the difference between a "taco", a "torta", a "burrito" and a "volcán" (basically, is the thickness of the dough) and also we tried all the beer brands we could.

Another place that we really liked was "El Cardenal" near the "Zocalo de México" which is the main square where the Cathedral is (that is the reason of the name of the restaurant ; "Cardenal" means Cardinal in Spanish). The restaurant was in an antique French-style building with windows decorated with painted glass. There, we discovered —among other dishes— the "cuitlacoche", which is the fungus that grows in the corn. Don't be fooled by how it sounds, it's just delicious.

I think one of the worst things about COVID-19 —besides stopping you from breathing— is depriving you of your sense of taste. Being in Mexico and not being able to taste the food would have been the worst punishment imaginable. Thanks to the vaccine, the chances of this happening to us have decreased (yet not gone).

[worldwanderers]

Mexico dearest (México querido)

I had been in Mexico at least a dozen times thanks to my work, and my boyfriend (X) went once a few years ago, when he was doing research for a project. The funny thing is that we had never been there together.

We both love Mexico; its people, its culture, its food... but we had this "debt" with the country and with us, as a couple. When X went, I even sent him a long e-mail telling him what to do and what to visit. I even recall that I wrote to him: "I hope you enjoy Mexico DF as much as I do. It's a shame I couldn't take you as I always wanted to".

I've known X since 2013 and, in all these years, when we were planning our next trip, we never thought in Mexico. It wasn't even in our top 5. We already loved everything related to the country, but it is so close to Peru (only a 5-hour flight) that we passed it by. We were more interested in doing more exotic trips (Thailand, Egypt, the Balkans, Turkey, etc).

The COVID-19 pandemic caused many countries to close their borders. Traveling for tourism became virtually impossible in 2020. Now, in 2021, there are still many restrictions. Nonetheless, one of the countries that has remained open is —precisely— Mexico. So X and I thought: "Why not visit it now?"

We have had the first doses of the COVID-19 vaccine, which means that we have an 80% of protection against the virus. Also, we are still looking where to go in my two months’ work leave and Mexico sounded good. So we decided to get into a plane and go and explore it together. And all the time I had this feeling that we were doing something that we had owed us for a very long time.

[worldwanderers]

There's no place like home...

If only we had those Dorothy's ruby slippers, all trips would seem seamless. Merely by clicking the heels, one can be at home in no time...

Can you imagine Dorothy having to deal with all we have to? After meeting new friends in Oz, walking in heels on a yellow brick road and have an unpleasant misunderstanding with a green lady... Can you picture Dorothy —after all that— having to wait in line in an Airline Counter, passing through Airport Security and having to spend 8 hours in a flying can.

If that had been the case, I think she would never have returned to Kansas. But although we are "friends of Dorothy" —that is how people used to called gay people in the olden days— we do not have her magic slippers. We know that after one of our adventures, we will have to save some energy to return home.

I think airports are not made for people. Nobody feels totally at home —not even in a VIP Lounge— and, rather, they are a good incentive for you to want to go home faster. We always try to arrive just in time to board, buy something at Duty Free Shop and get on the plane the as fast as we can. Almost like refugees escaping from a dictatorship.

Once we get on board, we can relax and comment on what we did on the trip. Usually my boyfriend (X) make a brief account of the trip. This one was not the exception; we used our time in a very efficient way. In our 48 hours in New York, we managed to get vaccinated, go to restaurants that we missed, walk The City from up to down and explore The MET.

We ended up tired, but satisfied. It was a succesful trip and we took the first step to achieve our ultimate goal: to find a new place to call home (at least for my two months of work leave). However, we are going to get back soon to NYC to get the second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, so this history will continue.

[worldwanderers]

Meet me in The MET

You just can not say you visited NYC if you did not —at least— passed through The MET. Of course, if you are a little bit a "museum freak", like we are, you need to go and explore at least one pavilion to feel that your trip was worth it.

I think one of the weirdest —and more presumptuous— lines that I ever told my boyfriend was: "I can't believe we don't know The MET as well as the Louvre, being New York closer to Peru.". Do not judge us, we just love Paris. Also, we love to get lost in big museums and never finish to see it all. We feel like children in a candy shop.

So, for this trip, my boyfriend (X) decided to become a member of The MET. It was the smartest thing to do ; not only for supporting arts, but also for the perks of it. It was a sunny day and the line to get to the museum was pretty long, but since we were members we had a different entry and we didn't even have to queue.

When the museum workers saw our member card, they go out of their way to make us feel their gratitud for supporting the institution. I never felt so important since we had an upgrade on a fancy hotel (and that was a very long time ago). I even asked X if with that card we get invited to the MET Gala... but no.... we are not THAT important.

So for this visit we focused our attention on greek amphoras. I was really impressed with the level of conservation, the colors and the pictures on all of them (the mythological figures as well as the nudes and the erect phalluses) . This pavilion is so big that you can spend two hours without ever seen half of it

We also discovered this American painter, Alice Neel... one of the first feminist, a leftie artist, promoter of making the LGBT community visible, lover of many latino men and, of course, specialist in painting nudes, especially men.

It was a very entertaining visit and it helped us to feel recharge after such a long and stressful trip. After that, we were ready to going back home.

[worldwanderers]

Cosmopolitan is more than just a cocktail

When my boyfriend (X) and I meet new people, they can't say for sure from which country we are from.

We have hundreds of stories in which they ask us if we are Arabs, Brazilians, Spanish, Italians, Portugueses. When we were in Turkey, people could swear that X was Turkish and they even insisted on speaking to him in Turkish.

But now, in Manhattan, not only New Yorkers are not sure where we are from; they would not dare to assume anything (It would be simply considered rude). On their minds we can be Americans and they speak to us in English, and very fast, without any concession.

That is what characterize a cosmopolitan society, where you can find people from all over the world and they acknowledge and respect those differences. Is just OK to be an Indian woman and wear a saree or be an Arab and wear a turban.

New York is a city —as I already mentioned in the title— where cosmopolitan is more than just a cocktail, it is a modern form of urbanity.