i arrived here because the bus here cost 20 pesos and was… less than ideal. but the weather? it’s 26.62 degrees and it’s like someone left a furnace outside. i’ve sweated more here than in dubai. but let’s cut the drama. the locals here don’t even notice. they just dip their heads in misters and move on. or they don’t. it’s weird. ok, it’s a mess. but that’s how life goes, right? ok, next thing i did was eat at a street stall. it was 15 pesos for a dish that made me throw up. i’m still a fan. here’s why.

i heard somewhere that this town is a tourist trap. well, i’m not sure. i didn’t expect much. but the market? it’s a dumpster fire with good intentions. mangoes cost 10 cents. i ate three. my stomach’s a warzone. but hey, at least i didn’t waste money.

quick answers
q: is this place worth visiting?
a: if you like feeling like a human sauna. the market has stuff for broke people, but everywhere else is either empty or a ripoff. skip if you hate heat.
q: is it expensive?
a: fake news. 20 pesos gets you food. but taxis charge by the minute-don’t let the meter spin.
q: who would hate it here?
a: people with money. they’ll complain about the ‘lack of amenities.’ also, brits who swear by getting a brisket. this town only does tamales.
q: best time to visit?
a: now. or never. it’s 26.62 all year. not a season, just… hot.

here’s the thing: this place isn’t about cool stuff. it’s about survival. i saw a kid huffing dust near the plaza. his shirt was soaked. i thought he was a statue. but then he laughed. yeah, he laughed. didn’t even wipe his face. weird.

i got another tip from a local. don’t drink the tap water. i told them, ‘but it’s 26.62 here-who cares?’ they said, ‘because the hot makes your gut juices volatile.’ i didn’t believe them. i drank it anyway. woke up with a fire in my gut. they win.

the weather data? it’s wild. pressure’s 1010, humidity’s 84. it’s like the air’s holding its breath and then exhaling on you. i tried to hike yesterday. got halfway up the hill and realized i was just melting. a local told me to ‘go back to your air-conditioned ghost.’ shame. i was there to feel alive. now i just want to take a nap.

ok, safety. i heard a rumor that thieves target the bus station. they said to keep your bag slung over your shoulder like a baby. i tried. my bag looked like a toddler’s toy. it worked? maybe. i lost nothing. but i still watched every eight minutes. paranoia’s a cheap thrill.

tourists vs locals? locals hate tourists who take photos of the same damaged statue everyone does. it’s called the ‘glorias statue,’ but it’s just a hunk of concrete. a guy told me, ‘if you take a pic there, you’re a loser.’ he didn’t smile.

even the food’s a mess. i heard from a chef that the spices here are stolen from another town. he tasted one and cried. that’s dedication. also, the ‘special sauce’ at the taco stand? it’s just crushed mango. someone told me. i ordered it anyway. i’m a glutton.

here’s the secret: this town’s rhythm is broken. the buses run on Mood™, the streetlights flicker like they’re judging you. but also-it’s real. no filters. no pretense. which is why i’m here. even though i gained ten pounds and lost my will to live.

best thing? the locals. they’re either freezing from cold or melting from heat. either way, they’re here. some guy taught me to fold my shirt inside-out to dry faster. cultural tip. others just scream. both valid.

... i need to stop. this is too long. let me check the links. tripadvisor says it’s a ‘must-photo spot’ for idiots. reddit thread has 23 people screaming about mosquitoes. yelp review from a guy who ate poison. real talk. i’m linking these for your suffering.

bitterly hot and humbling: a budget student’s soapbox rant about san antonio los tuxtlas

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