Return to Mexico With a Police Welcome


As you may have read in my post about my ill-fated trip to Mexico in June which ended in my returning back to the UK to spend some time with my family after my Mum was diagnosed with Cancer. Well following the commencement of her treatment I had a decision to make, to stay in the UK, get a job, find somewhere to live and be close to my Mum, or hit the road again. To see the decision was hard would be more than understating it and after deep thought, consideration and taking advice from friends and family, I decided to re-start my trip. I would miss Mum of course, but I could speak to her daily on Skype and Whatsapp and quite honestly she would have been livid if I hadn’t restarted my trip on her account.


The first time I flew to Mexico City I had an emotional breakdown when flying between Cancun and Mexico City, the main question in my head being ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?’ In the 18 months preceding the trip I had broken up with my partner of 11 years and quit my job of 13 years, everything felt wrong. This time however, I felt true purpose, desire and hunger to achieve my goals for the future, which are follows.

–   Travel through Mexico, Central America and South America

  • Earn a living online, thrive not survive
  • Continue studying for my degree in French and Spanish on the road

Easy, right? Well I guess we’ll all find out in the coming months, now, back to my return.

The friend that I was going to meet in Mexico the week after I had to leave was still in the city and I hadn’t seen him since the World Cup in Brazil last year, fair to say I was excited for the reunion. When I landed I headed straight for my Airbnb apartment and headed out to meet my mate in the beautiful Parque Mexico. We both have an uncanny sense of occasion and this was the perfect dramatic setting, we even had a busker knocking out some fitting acoustic guitar music.


After meeting up we did what any self respecting human would do, headed to the nearest bar. The German beer flowed for hours until we were promptly kicked out at around 3am, the lovely waitress said we could pour the remainder of our drinks into plastic cups and continue the party in the warm night, so we obliged.

The festivities continued for approximately 23 minutes before a pin of authority was punched into our balloon of amusement. Turns out you can’t drink on the street in Mexico, especially if you’re a gringo!! The policeman approached with dollar signs in his eyes and almost a wry smile as he gently informed us that we had 2 choices… 36 hours in a cell, or cough up 2000 pesos (£80) and he would disappear into the night with his filthy, corrupt partner. I’ll be honest, my first attitude was fuck you, I’ll call this monster’s bluff “why yes officer, 36 hours in a Mexican slammer sounds delightful, I’m almost looking forward to it, and what a blog post it will make.” I looked to my friend and we realised swiftly that we both have a lot of shit to do, and in truth, we both knew that the cell would be a bad call, and the slimy officer would probably still take the money from our wallets after incarceration.


With a mixture of drunken arrogance and ballsy attitude we decided to negotiate, the law wouldn’t budge, as it happened we only had 1000 pesos between us so my friend went in search for a cashpoint to give the fucker what he wanted. As luck had it my friend and his bank have a very different set of opinions and this actually worked in our favour, my friend couldn’t get any cash out!! Still slightly nervous that he would take the money and still lock us up, we handed the money over, expressing our deepest regrets to the officer that we couldn’t honour his bribe demands and fortunately he took the money and left to go and ruin someone else’s night.

In all honesty, drinking on the street at that hour was foolish and we probably deserved what we got but that didn’t stop me from feeling violated, not as violated as I would’ve been with a visit to the local jail, but violated nonetheless. Lesson learned, welcome back.

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