Life, Death, and Food Poisoning in Mexico City.
<p>Abel and I landed at Mexico City’s international airport on a Friday afternoon to a casual immigration line that felt more like waiting to check out at the supermarket.</p>
<p>Our bags were dispatched on a conveyor belt that came to a full stop before they all finished coming out. Mine was sitting on the threshold, barely peaking out, so I had to climb up the belt to fetch it. Mexico.</p>
<p>The Uber ride to Condesa was just over half an hour. Traffic was bad. We passed through what felt more like an endless neighborhood than a big city; small houses with life pouring out onto the streets and little taco stands or meat markets or cafes on every corner. Somewhere between the architectural outskirts of Madrid and the battered charm of Havana, I was thinking.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/@alistielow/life-death-and-food-poisoning-in-mexico-city-70f309a6a8f2"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>