MEXICO

Mexico

Hours of life lost in translation…9

Packets of airline crackers eaten…7

Addictions to airline crackers acquired…1

Expectations of donkey sightings- high

Mexico…ey? Donkeys. Dust. Donkeys in dust. Dusty donkeys. Large, large hats. Donkeys wearing hats…

How wrong I was…

Things I found out about nightlife in Mexico

1. Tuesday and Wednesday are really big on the Mexican socialite scene. Yes I said socialite. They exist in wild abandon roaming the plains of Mexico City. Said creatures range from chiselled pop stars to moneyed ponytail enthusiasts who clog up the front rows in Mexican fashion week.
2. If I thought face control in Russia was mean then Mexico is at least on par if not worse. ‘Love’ in particular is known for its barbaric door policy, which involves a suave looking man named Jose or Chieppe (chief) being summoned from the bowels of the dance floor to survey the expectant queue. I didn’t witness anything other than subtle Gladiator-esque flicks of his eyes to convey a yes or a no but am informed he enjoys rolling around references to weight, expense of clothes and being facially unfortunate.
3. The Zona Rosa is a thriving cosmopolitan gay area. The bars are shiny and streets lined with foliage. Dust and donkey count is low.
4. At least one of my preconceptions was true…Mexico is full of tacos. You can’t swing a meerkat without hitting a burly man making tacos. They are amazing. Ask for bistek with avocado and your joy will multiply in abundance.

Our first week in Mexico was spent auditioning the contestants for ninth member of the Smirnoff Ten as part of contest called La Zona de Combate. La Zona de Combate is a joint ‘bands’ and ‘fans’ competition involving 15,000 bands competing for a record deal with EMI and thousands of ‘fans’ competing to travel with us hunting nightlife.

Happily we won Audette, a sparky Mexican femme fatale who charmed us all immediately. I would love to tell you which band won but after a week watching them they all evolved into a dark clothed, rocky mass of high follicle altitude.

Having sorted ourselves out with a ninth Smirnoff critter we set upon the Mexican social scene. Using the medium of chatting to strangers in bars, Kareem and I headed off to Nicky Hilton’s après fashion week party. From there we schmoozed onto Love and befriended the aforementioned fearsome Chieppe as well as a rabble of Mexican disco hounds ranging from bankers to singers to DJ’s. This allowed us a free pass to roam various elitist haunts for the next few days including a Mexican members bar called ‘Le Disco’ where we got behind the DJ booth and…I would like to say played some tunes or something like that but actually I knocked out a cable and the bass went off for ten minutes.

This was all great fun, but my favourite times were a few random after party type efforts we ended up at; including a sing-a-long with a Mexican DJ/singer and a night out in the suburbs with three random Mexicans in a gated complex with a trampoline. We also tried a highly original drink called “Astronautes”, a shot with vodka, lime, coffee and sugar.

With all the tacos, celebs, 90’s chart music and finding Audette, Mexico was one of my favourite places. Donkeys are great and I respect them for their work but Mexico seems to be getting on fine without them for now.