valle de bravo: when your coffee tastes like regret and your neighbors are volcanoes

okay so i landed here with zero sleep and a thermos of what i swear was last week’s cold brew. the weather’s this weird lukewarm deal - like 15°C with humidity that’s not enough to make you sweat but enough to make your hair frizz. i just checked and it’s hovering around that ‘should i wear a jacket or nah’ zone, hope you like that kind of thing. the pressure’s doing weird things to my sinuses though, maybe avoid flying if you’ve got a cold.

“heard some guy say the local coffee shop grinds their beans with regret and old arguments. i tried it and it tasted like existential dread.”

first thing i did was hit the nearest cafe because apparently this whole town runs on caffeine. the barista gave me this look like i asked for unicorn tears - turns out they don’t do oat milk here. just straight-up dairy or nothing. the espresso had this weird floral aftertaste though, like they steeped the beans in someone’s grandma’s perfume. i later found out they roast their beans with pine needles, which explains everything.

“that muralist down by the lake? apparently he’s actually a retired accountant from Toluca. nobody knows why he paints squids wearing bowties.”

wandered around the town square which has this giant *parque where everyone stares at each other. the vibe is very ‘we’re all here but nobody’s talking’. if you run out of things to do, Toluca is basically next door and they have a market that sells actual cheese you can eat without crying. here’s some local’s take on the scene.

someone told me that lago de avándaro is where you go to ‘find yourself’ or whatever. i went to find a decent tamale and all i found was a dead pigeon. the water’s this weird greenish-blue color that makes you question your life choices. plus the wind off the lake is basically nature’s way of saying ‘put on another sweater’. some tourists swear by this spot.

ended up at this mercado* where they sell these weird fruit hybrids that look like space food. bought one that tasted like regret and crunchy watermelon. the vendor just laughed and handed me a lime. later saw these kids kicking a soccer ball made of rolled-up plastic bags - pure chaos. someone said this place has the best street food, but all i found was lukewarm tacos and existential dread in tortilla form.

takeaway: bring a jacket, avoid the floral espresso, and if anyone offers you ‘special’ fruit, just say thanks and walk away slowly.

You might also be interested in:

• https://votoris.com/post/luanda-angola-humidity-hustle-and-a-whole-lotta-confusion
• https://votoris.com/post/des-moines-static-and-slightly-sticky
• https://votoris.com/post/hyderabad-heat-a-messy-guide
• https://votoris.com/post/cincinnati-where-healthcare-hockey-and-bad-coffee-keep-the-lights-on
• https://votoris.com/post/is-el-geneina-overrated-a-reality-check-for-newcomers