Meet me in the underground. In order to reach the top, one must start at the bottom where fishes flop. Ancient tiles scattered around town, where the bruja frowns. Un solomente mariachi hombre con la guitarra counts his moneros inside the skylit tree dome.
"mama mía, I only wish life was this frío."
To find your way to the top, you need to stop, drop, and water a few crops. Also, do not forget to feed the boney cows, because that is what feeds our towns. And just maybe, you will find your crown.
The cargo bus tears through the narrow bricked streets. A few points of interest include the Grecian pueblos littered along the mountain side. Perros and perritos lounging around the techos under the roaring sun. Don't forget to get lost and create a little fun. Tourists flocked on the streets, where they eat: tacos, fruits, and choice cut meats.
I depart the Sante Fe, a charming spot with an assortment of paintings depicting Old España historía streched along the walls. The tile work is magnificient, each hallway embraced with its own warm styles. Once you leave the hotel, you are greeted to the Jardín de la Unión. Sporting with meticoulousy carved treetops, that make you wonder, ¨how in the world do these branches grow so skewed out from the center?¨ Being in the centro, there are many paths one could take and enjoy. Knowing myself, I took the path to Escalando Los Pisos con mi heavy encarnizada mochila and matching Maxxum Minoltas. Why? Who knows, I enjoy exercising con mi corazón.
I hustle through the quiant roads, one leading to another, one confusing and similar to the other. I keep peering at my small map that I recieved from the café. A hippie who smells the teas and treats his local cervezas with prominent pride. Luckily, he pointed out all the spots I was interested in, but with this collpasing time, I could only attend a few spots of attractions. As I keep wondering, and walking about the street I can´t help but wonder, where are the frog feets? I am greeted by the path, one that splits in half. Arriba o debajo, I choose the one where I feel low.
Jump, hop, skip, across the path.
Step, bounce, leap, through the cobble ways.
Brought before my eyes the top of the road, where the
route completes. I capture a few shots, a-click, a-snap, a-tick, a-clack.
My, o-my, my back.
It hurts to know that for every climb, I must return a different direction. I think that is how I create more action & excitement in my stay. If not, I would not be
crazed.
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