Things to do in Nuevo Progresso when you're piss drunk at 3am.

 “Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.” - Salmon Rushdie, The Satanic Verses
  
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For the last three nights, and potentially four more, I remain in Nuevo Progresso on the interesting side of the US/Mexican border. Not that I dislike the US, but when your options are insanely cheap motel rooms, potent-yet-cheap tequila, strange chemicals of all descriptions, street vendors serving better food than 90% of the Mexican restaurants I've tried, and... Texas. The choice is not a difficult one to make. 


[[Walkways only a few short hours ago teeming with vendors and tourists, now empty like the bottle of Cazadores in my hotel room.]]


As for the hotel San Jose, I recommend it highly. Friendly staff, very clean, pet friendly, cheap as fuck, close to the border, and excellent wifi speeds when it's working (which is most of the time). They asked me if I wanted to stay long term, a tempting offer to be sure, but as lovely as NP is I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.


[[More fog than in the film 'The Fog'.]]

The goal remains to make it south, all the way to the Mayan Riviera. There I have a few cheap apartments lined up, and plentiful work in the entertainment field. Might end up back in music, either on the technical end or production. Either would please me. 

In the meanwhile I have taken to exploring NP after dark. Long after the stalls are closed, the shoeshines have gone home, and the streets are no longer clogged with tourists from Texas. A quiet settles in with the fog, an almost unearthly quiet when compared to the hustle and congestion of the daylight hours.


[[Being drunk and having only my phone camera on me doesn't exactly make for Pulitzer material, but you get the idea.]]


Walking about half drunk photographing the shuttered shops and detritus left behind from the days influx of touristas. It's peaceful, relaxing in a way I have not felt in a long time. Exploring empty spaces normally full of people has always brought me a strange combination of excitement and tranquility. Here I have an entire city to satiate that urge, instead of just an abandoned hospital, museum, or disused factory. At the right hour it feels like the end of the world, with only myself and my camera to bear witness. I wish that thought did not bring me as much peace as it always has. I have discovered that of all the things available on the side of the border that someone like me could hope for, truly this is the place my ID has always dreamed existed, there is not one goddamn clove cigarette to be had at any price. Granted, now that my stress level has gone down thanks to various factors related to my now  incarcerated landlord I have been smoking them only slightly more often than once or twice a week. That said, there are none to be had in Mexico. Getting them requires crossing the border into Texas and then coming right back. Far more of a pain in the ass than one would suspect. So until I have a permanent address and can convince some friends to exchange care packages, which you will want to be a part of, I have found some truly marvelous gifts for a few people, not the usual tourist crap... the good stuff, I will be merely drinking my nights away at this keyboard. Probably for the best.

[[I would call it a ghost town, but even the ghosts go home when the taco carts pack up for the evening.]]


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This post and its original content copyright James Radcliff, and has been brought to you by Mexico, tequila, and generally poor decision making. If you would like to donate to support this bizarre little travelogue, feel free to do so via Patreon or PayPal. As always, this strange and debaucherous adventure has been brought to your screen by viewers like you. Thank you.

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