Polanco on Monday Morning
<p>Stepping out into the sunny puddle of Polanco on a Monday morning means being met with a bite of cold no more or less comforting than one you’d get on a late morning in London in mid December. But unlike London, where the air gnaws away at your bones throughout the darkening day and crashes right into your system if you ever dare cross a bridge, the cold lessens a little with each step in Mexico City. There are dogs. As many dogs as humans; the country is overflowing with dogs and a small percentage of them congregate in Polanco daily. Most are medium sized, most long-haired; all seem enthusiastic about something or everything. Some seem to recognise each other over a hedge or keen to begin conversations that may turn out to be violent or cheery; they are not left to their own devices to discover which but restrained by leads before restrained smiles to keep a healthy distance this early on in the week. </p>
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