The glass in front of me contains limeade, Worcester sauce, Tabasco sauce, ice, and beer. The rim is covered in salt like a margarita glass. I take a sip and my lips burn but the limejuice refreshes the back of my mouth. The drink is called a michelada and seems to be very popular with the locals who are sipping them at the outdoor cafes that line one side of the zòcalo. Marimba and Afro-Cuban jazz bands circulate amongst the sippers playing songs for a few pesos often trying to outplay each other. Old men wander in and out of the cafes selling raw shrimp out of pails that they carry. Jen and I sit and sip (for there really is no other way to drink a michelada) and watch the town around us.
Palm trees tower amongst old buildings, a steady breeze blows from the north, and people stroll down the waterfront malecon area. The old men wear panama hats and guayaberra shirts and they sit on corner cafes drinking strong cafè con leche. Sailors and young navy officers in bright white uniforms walk along the water with their girls on their arms and little kids with big eyes watch the balloon sellers. Men with 1950's style instamatic Polaroid cameras offer to take snapshots of the couples. Huge frieght ships are off loaded across the harbor, cranes lifting nets filled with bags of goods from far away lands. Everywhere, the sounds of marimba and Cuban jazz drift on the breeze.
Out of everywhere I have been in Mexico, Veracruz makes me feel like I am in the background of a movie. The movie takes place in the 1940's and stars Humphrey Bogart, and there is probably a dame involved, and when you leave the theater you wish the real world was a little more like the dream of the movie.
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More of our photos of Veracruz can be seen here.
