Mision de los angeles hotel, Oaxaca. High desert river valley. Perfect weather.
Me in Mexico city. Sick, tired, and determined to have the worst travel day ever. Air is brown, keep a close eye on the currency. Don't step out of line.
Zocalo and el Centro packed with thousands upon thousands of people. Vendors everywhere. The festival grows by the hour. City and state of Oaxaca exist as a continuum. Bought pink kitty at the radish festival, but lost her to a little kid in an art gallery on the walk back to the hotel.
Carnival set up in the park next to one of the many state owned churches and cathedrals.
Diners and crowd at the radish festival. So many architectural concepts turned inside out because of the climate. Waiting rooms are public; literally open to the street.
Pan American hwy rte 190 Oaxaca. The traffic patterns do figure eights on straight highways. I had to look both ways all the time after my first close call crossing the streets. Highways were one of the few places you could find a smooth surface. Outside mexico city, I can remember only two brief expanses of poured concrete walking surfaces.
Pedestrians crossing.
Innumerable police at festival. Crowd well behaved. No drunks yet at 9 pm.
