I'd had a restless night sleeping in Tijuana. I'd gone to bed just after nine, totally exhausted from the day's touristy roaming. I could hear the partying on Revu all night, but muffled through double-pane windows, the way I'd heard the din of being near Khao San Road for a month in 2011 (but without Hotel California). It was like sleeping with a white noise machine, except for the occasional siren.
Because I'd gone to sleep so early, I was wide awake by five. I forced myself to stay in bed but was showered, pacing about, and ready to leave the room by seven.
That is when I learned I should not have left the room at seven. All I wanted was a coffee, but it seemed the nearest coffee shop open at this hour was in San Diego. I am probably exaggerating, but a word of wisdom: Don't try to get a decent coffee on Avenida Revolucion before eight on a Sunday morning.
I did get an accidental morning walk, however, as I prowled about seeking an open restaurant. I walked south to the Jai Alai arena, passing murals and handmade signs. I walked north to a McDonald's, then...no. I could wait.
At 8:01, I rolled into a little place called Praga, which had a nice brunch-y sort of tourist breakfast. I'd imagined getting something from a cart, like I could have in Mexico City, but Tijuana-Revolucion is an entirely different beast from Mexico City.
And probably from the rest of Tijuana too.
Because I'd gone to sleep so early, I was wide awake by five. I forced myself to stay in bed but was showered, pacing about, and ready to leave the room by seven.
That is when I learned I should not have left the room at seven. All I wanted was a coffee, but it seemed the nearest coffee shop open at this hour was in San Diego. I am probably exaggerating, but a word of wisdom: Don't try to get a decent coffee on Avenida Revolucion before eight on a Sunday morning.
I did get an accidental morning walk, however, as I prowled about seeking an open restaurant. I walked south to the Jai Alai arena, passing murals and handmade signs. I walked north to a McDonald's, then...no. I could wait.
At 8:01, I rolled into a little place called Praga, which had a nice brunch-y sort of tourist breakfast. I'd imagined getting something from a cart, like I could have in Mexico City, but Tijuana-Revolucion is an entirely different beast from Mexico City.
And probably from the rest of Tijuana too.
1 comment:
Winged zebra! Pac-man! Awesome.
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