Yesterday – WORLD CUP DAY! – we went to see an exhibit at the Museo Nacional de Arte. It was an exhibit of male nudes. There was an early-ish Picasso, a couple of small Cezannes, and some other stuff. It was okay. But a trick was missed. They totally should’ve tried to get sponsorship from a gym, who could’ve had a stall or something next to the exit, cos, I tell ya, there’s nothing like an exhibition full of male ideals to make you feel a bit not-ideal.
Art, though, of course, was just a wee snack before the main meal of the day. Brazil v Croatia. We’d given some thought to going to Zócalo, the big main plaza downtown where there’s a big screen, but in the end, hunger took us to Salon Corona. Some tacos, a couple of beers, and, “shall we go elsewhere?” “no, let’s stay here.” Pitbull on the telly, coming out of a ball, dressed like he was on holiday in Cancún. People around us in Brazil jerseys, cos everyone loves Brazil. Even the employees had fake Brazil jerseys with “Salon Corona” printed where the Nike logo would normally be.
Like a contrary bugger, I was rooting for Croatia. We got stiffed by the waiter who definitely overcharged us. Just like Croatia with the referee. I decided that we should make a stand, and rather than make an actual stand, we actually just didn’t tip him. On to El Jarrito, another bar. Yellow walls, a jukebox playing Spanish language stuff, and plastic garden chairs with Sol logos on them. Each chair was actually two chairs. Stacked. Not sure why. Girlfriend said it was because too many big dudes ended up breaking them.
Subway and a pesero microbus back to our neighbourhood. Another couple at a local bar. Some tacos at the stand across the street from the apartment. A great day. World Cup Day. And in about an hour, it’ll all start again. Back to the local bar where we’ll watch Mexico v Cameroon. People on the street below are in green jerseys and honking airhorns. It’s not even 9am.
Let’s see if I can keep this World Cup blogging up, eh?