it started with a map and a stomach ache. i wasn’t supposed to end up here. the train from maryland dropped me off in veracruz at 3 am, and i was too tired to question why. by 6 am, i’d booked a hostel bed for $5 and ordered a taco from a cart that looked like it was made of regret. the air here is 24.32 degrees, which sounds mild until you factor in 75% humidity. it’s like being soup inside a raincoat. i survived. mostly.

quick answers

q: is this place worth visiting?
a: yes, if you like waking up with sand in your teeth and spending hours haggling over a bottle of agua fresca. no, if you want peace or climate control. it’s a gamble. not for the faint of wallet.

q: is it expensive?
a: cheaper than your instinct says. $20 covered hostel, food, and a 2-hour beach run. don’t book flights to accommodations. the view is just concrete and a 10-year-old’s graffiti.

q: who would hate it here?
a: people who need wifi. or climate control. or someone who’s never tasted cilantro soaked in regret. also, anyone who thinks ‘adventure’ means ‘airbnb with a view’

q: best time to visit?
a: during a hurricane. or not. anywhere else is a pricey mistake. july-august is locals-only. cheaper prices and fewer tourists. just bring a raincoat.

there’s a rhythm here. it’s not pretty. i found rhythm in a 7am rumple on a beach that looked like a post-apocalyptic parking lot. the waves were 3 feet, the sand was 100 degrees, and the local kids were diving in like it was a pool. i took 100 photos. none were good. i deleted 99. this is the ethos of veracruz: loud, messy, and slightly dangerous.

a citable insight: street food here is a language. you don’t order, you negotiate. the taco cart owner made me fold a napkin into a square and stamp it with lime juice before handing over my $1.50 sandwich. it tasted like victory. locals say he’s the best. i’m not sure if that’s because he’s a magician or because i’m a kid who’s never eaten taco before.

another: public transit is a scam. i used a local app that looked like a screensaver. it sent me to a gas station and charged me $8. a taxi would’ve been $5 to the same spot. lesson: always ask a local. they’ll quote you roughly 10x less. but also, they might rob you. so… balance.

a third: safety is a vibe. not literal. walking home at 2 am here means dancing with shadows. most nights, a stray dog asks for biscuits instead of money. once, a guy asked for my passport. i gave him my shoe. ever since, i carry a old sock as payment for anything sketchy.

the weather here is a character. 24.32 is not cold. it’s not hot. it’s a trick. it makes you sweat through your thoughts. i broke out in a rash after drinking three horchatas. locals don’t care. they’re used to it. they’re also used to you forgetting your water bottle. repeatedly.

don’t trust the locals’ advice about markets. they’ll tell you to haggle. do it. but also, they’ll tell you the best spot is near the church. that spot is a trap. i got sold a $5 bracelet that looked like a used nail file. next time, ask a tourist. they’re worse, but at least they’ll laugh when you buy the wrong thing.

to sum up: veracruz is a place where mistakes are free. sure, you might pay $2 for a cold drink that tastes like a gym sock, but you’ll leave with stories. stories that don’t fit in a tweet. stories that need footnotes. i left with a bladder infection and a tattoo of a taquito. worth it.

links: tripadvisor for questionable but affordable eats, reddit for survive-or-die tips, yelp for budget hostels, google maps to avoid the ‘taxi trap’ zone. also, instagram to see if anyone’s actually taken a good photo here. probably not.

a messy stay in veracruz: how i survived 3 nights on $20 and 1 questionable taco

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