Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore

In case I wasn't convinced I was actually in DF, we overtook this tractor on the city highway into the hotel.

I keep misplacing the Angel and so haven't seen her yet. We did manage to eat blue corn gorditas and yellow corn gorditas with chicharron/carnitas/suadero, a taco el pastor (obviously), and a taco chupacabra (which might have been bistek, cecina and chorizo).

We also wound up dancing to what we think was a Cuban band in a strange restaurant in Condesa.

Then we made it home. Barely. It's been a day.

But I am here.

And after a "calle Orizaba" sign popped up out of nowhere to destabilize me, a shrine to the virgin of Guadalupe somehow magically appeared in front of us.

I choose to take it as a sign that DF's gonna have my back this time.