🇲🇽 Lawyer up

Hello Adventurers, 

I think we can all agree that lawyers are the worst. And mine? Well, he summoned me to Mexico City this week for a serious legal matter: being a key witness...at his destination wedding.

And if you've ever been invited to one of these things — in my case subpoenaed by my Juris Doctor brother — you know they're expensive...and border on extortion and/or some kind of financial crime. But I gladly paid the bond — because of our brotherly blood bond — and because Elliot is truly one of my favourite people on the planet.

Anyway, this issue of the newsletter only covers four marathons done in Mexico City...but when combined with all the strolls I did with my missus, it was 224 kilometres around CDMX by foot!

The week was supposed to be a godsend — because my wife, friends, and family all came down for the wedding — but I was pseudo arrested and threatened with jail time. But aye, ain't nothin' gonna stop me, so let's get into it!

- Ben Pobjoy

2023 TREK TRACKER

Where in the world...record am I?

• Countries visited: 11

• Flights taken: 22

• Kilometres flown: 31,823

• Marathons completed: 33

• Kilometres trekked by foot: 1,556.2

• Total kilometres trekked since 2015: 64,648

RAPID WEEKLY RECAP

A speedy synopsis for time-crunched readers

• The Wildest Thing: Observing a high percentage of men in airport washrooms washing their hands after peeing and pooing..and then using their wet hands to style their hair 🤢

• The Biggest Obstacle: Trying to balance spending quality time with my wife, family, and friends this past week...while also getting up early AF to do as many marathons as possible 😵‍💫

• The Lesson Learned: Crooked cops using a technicality to threaten me with jail time...but then just robbing me. The experience taught me to alter the contents of my first-aid kit 😡

FIELD NOTES: MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

Where fun and fuckery thrive

In Mexico City, I always lose my sense of time. Why? Well, because it's a big and bustling place full of jovial people...where every day feels like a Saturday and every night feels like a Friday. No matter the day or hour, there are good times to be had, and it is brain scrambling!

And when it comes to summarizing CDMX, I don't even know where to begin...because it is overflowing with an infinite amount of things to see and do.

While it is a completely unique place, Mexico City is like New York or London or Tokyo in that it offers visitors an overwhelming number of options. As such, you experience a feeling of anxious glee here: always stoked to do things...while simultaneously doubting your choices...because you know they're being done at the expense of something else that's equally killer.

And you know how it is: it's one of those places where you can dedicate a full week just to museums...or just to food...or just to shopping.

So my recommendation is to just go slapdash here, and accept that much will be left unseen and/or untasted! More ends up on the editing room floor here than in the figurative movie you post to social media. This is why Mexico City warrants a sequel vis-à-vis a second trip, and why I was so glad to be back.

Before I proceed much further, there's some things I want you to know: my brother voluntarily chose to have his wedding here (i.e. I'm not an asshole! I didn't make everyone come to me...because I actually came to them from Brazil), and I got to see my wife...who I profoundly missed after six weeks apart! It was Christine's first time here...so I generally rode shotgun as she drove the itinerary like a total pro!

Furthermore, should you visit Mexico City: always keep some $5 peso coins in your pocket because you need to pay to use washrooms at gas stations or markets or wherever else here. And always trek with a plastic bag in your backpack...because there are next to no garbage receptacles on the streets here. Some parks have them as do some street food vendors...but they're sorta non-existent overall. It's weird.

And this place, know that it's wonderfully sensorial, just full of sounds and smells: the honks of cars, the music everywhere, and the sizzle of meats being cooked on grills by street food vendors on every sidewalk. And then there's the fragrant lavender along boulevards, the constant scent of tortillas being warmed up, and the medley of spices and flowers in every market.

While it is unoriginal and cliché to reiterate, it is the truth: Mexico City is unbelievably vibrant and colourful. It's a total feast for the eyes...and this is what caught the attention of mine on my marathons here:

Centro Histórico: When I get to a place, I like to get a baseline for what it was...before I see what it has evolved to become. As such, I'd recommend you first stroll through the historic centre in Mexico City. Use the Plaza de la Constitucion as your anchor and check out the nearby post office with the palatial interior, the nearly 100 year-old perfumery, the old pharmacy that's allegedly been open daily since the '60s, the crazy busy Mercado Sonora, and nearby Chinatown.

Polanco and Roma Norte: These two neighbourhoods are contemporary counterpoints to Centro Histórico. Polanco is tony and Roma Norte is hip. In Polanco, stroll Av. Pdte. Masaryk and be sure to check-out the nearby Museo Soumaya. And in Roma Norte, just use Plaza Rio de Janeiro as an anchor and wander nearby streets like Colima, Orizaba, and Álvaro Obregón. Here, Parque Mexico is a great spot for a breather and Mercado Roma is an eclectic food hall you can grab a bite in.

El Bosque de Chapultepec: This sprawling park easily goes toe-to-toe with New York's Central Park and/or London's Hyde Park. At more than 680 hectares in size, Chapultepec is huge and just loaded with attractions: there's a modern art museum, an anthropology museum, a lake with swan rides, and a zillion vendors along Avenida Heroico Colegio Militar...my favourite of which is a dude stationed here that does caricatures (I commissioned one of me and the missus...and it's the best $10 USD I've ever spent).

Whether you want to do a leisurely stroll or go for a hardcore run, this park is the spot! And architecture lovers, the Luis Barragán house and studio is very close to the park too. But me? I always mission north to get my Barragán fill.

And when it comes to art, Mexico City is stacked! So me and the missus went to the Museo Mural Diego Rivera to see the namesake's nearly 16 metre long painting.

We also wanted to hit Museo Frida Kahlo but you have to buy tickets in advance (I learnt that the hard way on my last trip), and on this trip there was a glitch on the museum's website that prevented us from buying tickets with our respective credit cards. Basically, the universe doesn't want me to see Frida IRL.

Mercado Medellín: I had never heard of this market before, and I was sooo pumped that my missus took me to it...because it slaps! Light and airy, Mercado Medellín is full of produce and flowers and butchers and fish mongers...and I just loved it! You could bowl a camera down one of it's shopping lanes and get 487 good photos. Foodies and photographers, hit it!

Mercado de Artesanías La Ciudadela: Jesus Christ, this handicraft market will leave you gobsmacked. Firstly, it is full of the happiest colours you'll ever see...you literally walk in and smile ear to ear because it's a technicolour explosion. Secondly, it is the biggest flex of Mexico's second-to-none artisanal talents: paper crafts, embroidery, textile arts, glass flowers, pottery, ceramics, and beyond. It is must visit, period.

Mexicans appreciate art and beauty like no one else. As such, it's no surprise that Mexico City isn't just unbelievably cultured, but home to some of the best shopping in the world.

I'm living out of a backpack this year, so I couldn't buy anything...but my missus took me to some outstanding shops that really tested my self-control! Thank you Christine...you put so much radness on my radar:

Apotheca Botánica had an incredible curated selection of floral Oaxacan candles, Casa Bosques had a fantastic selection of art books housed in a beautiful showroom, and Utilitario Mexicano had top-notch housewares that'll make you want to replace all the dinnerware in your kitchen...and loads of stuff in your living room too. The latter had the cutest pink bucket hat that I tried to buy for my missus...but she said she wasn't cool enough for it. Pfft.

In closing, I just want to say that the womenswear in Mexico City does not gets its due on fashion's global stage. The design, construction, and silhouettes I saw warrant more attention. Across the board, there's this elegant Eileen Fisher-esque 'drapeyness' here...which I just love because it is timeless, casually chic, and always sophisticated. It looks fantastic on all bodies, and Mexican designers are bringing it...so bring your charge card and bring some of the fashions back home!

I really hope my photographs demonstrate how visual Mexico City is. If I didn't convey this, then I failed...and offer this image of groomers with poodles as my apology to you as well as the city itself.

DE-FUN'D (BY) THE POLICE

Benny gets bandito'd...again!

You may recall from newsletters past, that when I was in Bolivia marathoning the other week, I visited some witches in La Paz to jokingly procure some protection. Specifically, I bought a '7 Powers' bar of black soap from them that — when lathered over my body in the shower — was supposed to protect me from treason, curses, the evil eye, hate, damage, witchcraft, and/or envy. Or at least that's what the packaging advertised!

Anyway, when I got to my Airbnb in Mexico City, the shower didn't have soap so I busted out my '7 Powers' bar, and used it for the first time. And it was sorta fitting, because the last time I was in Mexico City, a cop robbed me on a marathon.

And guess what? The soap didn't work...because I got robbed again by the police in Mexico City while marathoning! MAJOR LULZ!!!

Anyway, the shakedown went like this:

I was on the 39th kilometre of a marathon, lightly jogging through the Roma Sur neighbourhood in broad daylight at around 6PM. And on a tiny strip of sidewalk that conveniently had a high wall on one side and a row of trees on the other, two policemen pulled up onto the sidewalk and pinned me from both directions with their motorbikes.

It was the perfect little corridor for the perfect little crime.

And when their helmets came off, and the balaclavas came down...I chuckled because I knew the dance we were going to do; especially when they threw on gloves (to prevent fingerprints) and used their free hands to cover their names on their uniforms (to prevent identification).

This may seem terrifying to you, but I knew it was just tacky theatre intended to intimidate me...and because a cop had previously robbed me in Mexico City in 2017.

Anyway, one cop immediately grabbed the smartphone out of my hand (to presumably prevent me from filming anything and/or contacting anyone) as the other gently pushed me up against a wall; making sure to press the gun on his hip into my back — to LMK who was in charge — while keeping me faced away from both of them to minimize my ability to identify them.

I don't speak Spanish that well, but the bullshit pretext was that I aroused suspicion because I was 'on the run' with a backpack...and presumably had committed a theft or was ferrying something that was unsavoury. The truth of the matter, is that I was just a solo foreigner and an easy target.

"Armas?", they asked.

"No.", I responded.

"Drogas?", they asked next.

"No.", I responded.

I was then given a pat down...but this was just the means for one of them to extract the wallet from my back pocket.

And then I heard my backpack being unzipped. It contained my still camera, an unopened sleeve of wet wipes, and a travel soap container. The latter is my little first aid kit. It contains bandages, pain-relieving Salonpas patches, a panel of Gravol in blisterfoil, a panel of Imodium in blisterfoil, and a little baggie marked 'Advil Liquid-Gels' in my Sharpie'd handwriting that contained the translucent turquoise pills...because the Advil bottle is too big to fit in the container.

And that my friends, was my fatal fuck up: loose Advil. It was the inch that gave the crooked cops the mile to milk me.

"¡Ohhhhh!", one exclaimed near my right ear.

"Drogas.", the other said into my left ear.

"No bueno.", they then said together in stereo sound, with a 'this is really not good for you' tone.

I was then gently turned around. One cop gently titled my head down to the sidewalk (to keep my eyes away from their faces) as the other cop — much to my surprise — returned my wallet to my hand, and had my baggie of Advil in his other hand.

I can't fully relay the totality of what was said next — because I don't speak Spanish well— but this is what I heard, and could understand because it is/was so similar to French, a language which I am fluent in:

"Sesenta horas"

"Prisión."

"O cuatro mil pesos."

60 hours. Prison. Or 4,000 thousand pesos.

The first two sentences were fake sentences...for a fake prison sentence.

But the last was sentence was the 'get out of jail' card.

But these enterprising entrepreneurs didn't accept cards...just straight cash, homie.

And I was fine with the fine, the latter being a street toll of sorts.

I opened up my wallet accordion-style, and showed the two cops that I only had a $20 US greenback bill and $700 Mexican Pesos.

One cop very smartly batted my wallet from my hand — down into my opened backpack onto the sidewalk — to give the illusion that he was refusing a bribe.

And the other showed me his smartphone, using a text translator app to ask me if I had any more money on me.

"No.", I replied aloud.

One of the cops then seemingly had an epiphany...that my Advil weren't illegal drugs, and he handed them back to me.

This was done as the other cop bent down and reached into my backpack — with both hands while using the backpack as cover — to take the money out of my wallet, and slip it into the cuff of his sleeve. Something no onlooker would've detected.

He then lifted my backpack off of the sidewalk and handed it back to me, making it all appear — to anyone looking — that he was just tidying up the things he had just searched through.

And then they waved me off in one direction, got on their motorcycles, and rode off in the other direction. And from start to finish, the whole episode was maybe three minutes max.

And it was brilliant. A true masterclass in the art of the shakedown: all theatre, no violence, no way for me to identify anyone, and maximum financial extraction for these pigs as perps...all executed in the wide open, with the crime being cleverly clandestine.

For me, the whole thing was nothing more than a humbling $60 USD lesson...I wasn't just outsmarted by cops (this pains me), it revealed the stupidity of having out-of-bottle medication in my backpack, and how that could be leveraged against me by crooked cops. They didn't leave a mark on me...but my ego sure was bruised.

For you, the lesson is simple: the city cops in Mexico City are just gangsters in uniform. It's great because they're easy to identify due to the green and white gang colours on their vehicles. The downside is that they're only paid about $1,000 USD a month on average, so they like to do a little freelance work on foreigners to make some extra scratch. However, it's never egregious: they didn't steal my phone or my camera because both are trackable. And they didn't walk me to an ATM for more loot 'cause there'd be CCTV.

The corruption in Mexico is real. However, it is only the police, the politicians, and the profiteers you gotta worry about.

The ordinary people here? They're some of the nicest, kindest, and most hospitable people in the world. And that's why I'll continue to return to Mexico, shakedowns and all.

THIS IS MEXICO!

Ordinary people with an extraordinary love for life

I first heard the music.

And then I saw the dancing.

So I wandered into the park with the Monument a Morelos statue to go boogie with some elders.

In Canada, I'm considered an okay dancer...

...But in Mexico alongside the Mexican standards, I'm a terrible one.

And that didn't stop me. And the locals loved it; chuckling as they pulled me towards them...to groove with them.

They were dressed up, and I looked like dog shit...and it didn't matter to them...because everyone was having good clean fun and bringing the moves.

I danced for a few songs amongst the couples — and before the next song played — a new woman would always grab me. I just thought they were being hospitable, but then I noticed that the women who were exclusively engaging me had red paper hearts pinned to their shirts.

Then it dawned on me: the heart symbolized they were single...and looking for love.

And my heart exploded. It was somehow the cutest, happiest, saddest, and raddest thing all at once. Couples dancing...and singles dancing in hopes of coupling-up with someone else.

I'm not making this up. It was all explained to me afterwards...

...By a 70 year-old man who was trying to set me up with his 50 year-old, heart-wearing daughter. I told him that I was from Canada, and he was like, "Great! All the better!"

I know this story is silly but it demonstrates how warm and wonderful the Mexican people are. They could've been annoyed by my presence or my party-crashing, but they welcomed this gringo groover.

So please don't let my other story about the crooked cops dissuade you from visiting Mexico.

Us, the people, we're generally friendly with one another worldwide.

And that's the humanity we must all protect and serve.

BEST LOCAL THING-Y

While it was a simple breakfast, it was the easy winner: the granola topped, honey-drizzled chunks of papaya that I purchased from a street vendor. And given it was priced at just $1.34 USD, it was both gastronomically and economically tasty.

However, If you like your fruit more spicy and savoury, then try the chili-dusted, salt-topped, and lime juice'd cups of mango chunks from street vendors. They kill too.

The reality is that Mexico City is an astounding place for food. I loved the churros from El Moro and the tacos from El Califa, both of which were places my wife took me to.

Basically, just come to Mexico City hungry...and let your eyes and nose guide you to all the good grub!

Also, the food from Gracias Madre Taqueria Vegana is delicious if you need to eat plant-based...and all the food in the photograph below was less than $25 USD (including a bottle of coke, a bottle of beer, and a bottle of sparkling water).

I ate the burrito, the gringa, the fries, and the majority of the guac / corn chips. It's a lot, and is accurate to the size of the dinners I have to eat on the Marathon Earth Challenge.

I know it's hard to believe — because of the documented meal size — but I got on the scale a couple days ago and was 155 pounds in clothes. So I've lost 15 pounds in about six weeks, and that's after I probably put on two pounds in Mexico City. Gotta keep eating!!!

POBJOY'S GLOBAL PRICE INDEX

This is an on-going documentation of how much things cost in different places around the world. Here are some of the things I bought in Mexico City (all prices converted to USD)

• I took ten people out for a late-night feast of tacos and beers at a mid-scale restaurant: $123.00

• A soy latte, an Americano, a sparkling water, overnight oats, an açai bowl, and a huevos rancheros plate at a tony café: $40.00

• An apple, two bananas, and a 946 millilitre carton of coconut milk from 7-Eleven: $4.68

MARATHON MUSINGS

Some pirated advice about archery for newlyweds

When things began to get more serious between me and my missus Christine — somewhere between us dating and us getting engaged — she looked at me and said, "Never stop dating me."

It may have been an off-the-cuff comment, but it nevertheless struck me like an arrow in the moment. Was it just an approach? Or was it the ambition? I didn't fully know what she meant, but I understood what she was asking of me: then and forever.

And now married, it is even more profound and revelatory:

Some days the winds are strong and the target is far away — even obscured by petty arguments or tiredness or life's bullshit or whatever else — but one must always pick up the bow and fire cupid's arrow towards the bullseye.

You won't always nail it, and that does not matter.

Because it has more to do with living with intention:

To live — and love — for the sake of love's enduring lovingness.

And that is precisely why the bow can never gather dust: because if you lay off the attack, love isn't just defenceless...its death will be imminent. And the latter is a tragedy, medieval or modern.

I'm an idiot. I fault and falter daily, but know that it's way stupider to neglect archery practice. That is ultimately what marriage asks of us all.

The shorthand? It's that we can never quiver in our duty.

Because the daily duty is to pick up the quiver,

And fire the arrow to ensure the fire still burns bright.

Anyway, brother Elliot...newly minted husband.

You may not know, but our family surname is the bastardization of the word Popinjay, a term for a very popular form of archery practice in the late Middle Ages.

So you and I, more than others, we have no excuse:

We must take the shot, and we must shoot often...to live up to our name, and our marital duty.

May your arrows be plentiful,

And may your wife Karen feel them today, tomorrow, and forever.

Blessings to you both.

Have any questions about the content of this newsletter? Reply to it, and I'll try and answer you when it's safe to do so!