The first stop of my second leg was the picture-perfect colonial city of Guanajuato which over four days and five nights I will remember I think for its charming streets and my online meets.

First thing's first: Guanajuato. It is pronounced JUAN - A - JUAT - OH. That's JUAN (like the name) - A - JUAT (like the name Juan but with a 'T' not an 'N') - OH

For the duration of my stay I stayed in a hostel 20 or so minutes walk from the city's historic centre. The hostel itself was nice...  the beds were comfortable, the lockers were spacious and breakfast was not only free but it was both nutritious and delicious. The only downside of staying here was that the hostel sat half way up a mountainside and the front door was only accessible via a staircase some 12 flights from street level.
12 flights of stairs with your backpack at an altitude of 2,000m is nothing short of an assualt
And as if the stairs to my hostel weren't bad enough, see what happens when it rains (you don't go out):

So one of the consequences of living half way up a mountainside is that once you're out, you stay out - none of this 'quickly popping back for a lie down' nonsense as might usually be the case elsewhere, oh no. Fortunately, Guanajuato is somewhere you want to be out and I had no problems spending my days wondering the streets and exploring what was on offer, including the city's very own mummy museum.

Unlike any of the mummies I've seen before, the mummies of Guanajuato were truly disturbing and the stuff of real-life nightmares. Each mummy (and there were hundreds) on display had a terrifying and contorted expression and it was hard to imagine their deaths being anything but peaceful. The worst part was realising that these mummies weren't actually that old and unlike their ancient Egyptian cousins, date back not millenia, but decades. I mean, as mummies go, these ones are fresh. Oh, and as if that wasn't enough, there were mummified babies too. Like actual babies. Mummified.

I'm sure it was a peaceful end? :/

Nothing creepy about this
After a couple of days trekking the city inside and out I was ready for a beer and so the hunt was on to find somebody with whom to share a drink. But I had a problem - everybody I met at the hostel was just excruciatingly annoying.

I know it sounds stupid but other travellers - especially those in hostels - they just annoy me.

*Cue rant*

One of the problems is that everybody in a hostel tends to want to make friends and in a bid to find a connection with which to build a friendly foundation, the first conversation with anybody in a hostel always goes exactly the same:
  1. Where are you from?
  2. How long are you here for?
  3. When did you arrive?
  4. How long have you been away?
  5. Where were you been before coming here?
  6. How long are you planning to be away for before heading home?
  7. Where are you going after here?
And I'm not exaggerating, this conversation is literally played out time and time again with everybody you meet. At first, its fun and exciting and interesting, but very quickly it becomes all too repetitive.

You see, almost everybody you meet in a hostel seems to be on 'some big adventure' and under the delusion that their story is unique. Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is their stories aren't unique and in fact they are all uncannily the same. Yes, most people have followed the same path through the same countries and are doing whatever they're doing for one of just a small handful of different reasons (usually either a summer vacation, a career break, the end of a relationship, or you know... just because YOLO). And whilst Plain Jane's stories might set the room on fire back at home to her friends who are just doing the 9-5, they are in this hostel just like everybody else's. 

So I'm sorry to break it to you Jane, you're not the only person here to have visited Machu Picchu and as interesting as your volcano boarding story is, I heard the same story from three other people just this morning at breakfast... so with all due respect... would you please just f**k off.

The only thing that riles me more than hearing about Plain Jane's stories is that they are usually accompanied by an expectation that I should care. Its like, just because we're both travelling and staying in the same hostel, does not mean we automatically have to be friends.

*Rant over*

Back to Guanajuato and I'm in my hostel where I've failed to meet anybody I don't find excruciatingly annoying.

Still thirsty and determined not to drink alone I turned to my phone's online dating apps like Grindr and Tinder and began searching for somebody with whom to share that drink.

Until now, I had totally forgotten how much fun dating apps can be whilst you're travelling. Unlike the crowd at the hostel, dating apps put you in immediate reach of 'real' people. More to the point, they're local people that know the city your in, they know where to go, what to do and where to avoid. They have real lives, real problems and generally speaking are just much more interesting than Plain Ol' Jane back at the hostel.

The Juarez Theatre in the centre of the city served as a useful meeting place with guys I met online

So over the course of my time in Guanajuato I ended up meeting with three different guys, each with whom I had quite different experiences.

The first guy, Luis, was a mid-twenties local lad who studied at Uni and was into his sports. Whilst initially we got on quite well he made it all a little awkward when he got a bit... well... keen.

Next up was Goyo who in his early thirties and from just outside Mexico City was in town rehearsing for a performance as an opera singer. He was tall, dark and handsome, he had a cracking smile and beautiful eyes. After an hour or so aimlessly walking about we settled down for coffee before later going to grab food. At the end of the night we parted ways with a goodnight kiss, after which I walked back home literally on cloud nine... but not for the reason you might expect.

Goyo spoke much less English than I did Spanish and subsequently we were wholly reliant on my language capabilities to facilitate the conversation. Despite my limited competency in this department, I managed to keep things going for the best part of five hours and realising what I had done at the end of the night was just the best feeling ever, I was so proud of myself it was unreal.

Finally, there was Alex who like Luis before him was also local, in his twenties and studying at uni. We met a couple of times during my stay and on the first night he introduced me to a local cantina. I hadn't been to a cantina before and having now been I don't think I'll be back in a rush. Obviously I can't speak for them all but this one was a small cramped bar, jam-packed with rough and ready looking middle-aged men who peed in an open air urinal conveniently sat at the end of the bar. I guess you could say it was rustic and charming... but yeah... it wasn't my sort of crowd.

My final night in Guanajuato was again spent with Alex with whom I spent the majority of the day out in the Sun and drinking beer. As fun as it was, the inevitable consequence was that I woke up on the morning I was due to be leaving feeling a little worse for wear.

Following breakfast and a cold shower, I packed up my things, booked an Uber, threw on my pack and carefully made my down the 150 steps to the street below. With five minutes to spare, I placed my bag down on the curb and took out my phone so that I could find the make and registration of the car which was due to pick me up. But just as I was about to look for the driver's details I realised I had made a huge mistake and that the driver was in fact already waiting for me. The problem though was that he wasn't waiting for me there... no... he was 24 flights above me at the top of the stairs and with no WiFi with which to contact him I had no choice but to drag my sorry ass all the way to the top. God, it was gonna be a long day.

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