Curves and cracks

I'm continuing my exploration of Mexico, and the more I go, the more I feel like a Mexican (my Spanish is improving rapidly: I went from "hola" to "Buenos días, señorita! Cómo va?" without much stuttering. Plus, I navigate the markets like a pro). Bacalar, my next destination, is the kind of paradise that comes straight out of a postcard. I arrive, I see the water shifting from turquoise to emerald to the deep blue of a billionaire's swimming pool, and I think to myself: "OK,

I'm leaving Coatepec (Veracruz state) very soon, so I've saved the best for last. The best? Coatepec coffee, this world-renowned nectar, to which I've succumbed every day since I arrived. Seriously, I think I've developed a serious addiction. This coffee is exceptional thanks to two magical things: the altitude (between 900 and 1,300 meters, exactly in the comfort zone of even the most temperamental Arabica plants) and the famous "chipi-chipi." No, it's not a cute little anim

For the past three weeks, I've been settled in Coatepec, a charming little town nestled in the mountains of the state of Veracruz. A small town, yes, but one with a truly irresistible trio: mole, coffee, and orchids. I naively thought that orchids were just expensive flowers that die as soon as you look at them a little too much. What a monumental mistake! These plants are, in fact, the greatest manipulators, sexual con artists, and survivors in the history of the plant kingd