MBW, the HA, and I jaunted down to Monterrey for the New Year. Not to stay up until midnight and toast the changing of the calendar with champagne and fireworks, but to be in town for the 60th birthday party of my brother-in-law. It’s a short one-hour flight from San Antonio. Convenient. And the notorious Monterrey traffic is light during the holiday season.
We stayed in the historic district, the Zona Rosa, in an old hotel that hosted many Mexican notables in the past. Other people did intend to celebrate the New Year with champagne and fireworks; there was a line of celebrants dressed to the nines by eight o’clock waiting at the doors for the banquet and the band. But we were in bed early. I dimly heard the fireworks before falling back asleep, but MBW and the HA slept blissfully through it.
Travel is always an opportunity for a writer to perform research, whether he uses it or not. Since we were in the historic district, I reacquainted myself with the area, MBW acting as doyen.
The day of the party we Ubered to a high-end shopping mall for brunch and browsing.
Then we rode up into one of the eminences unsuccessfully attempting to corral the sprawl that is the greater Monterrey area. The driver eventually got us through security at the gate, up the twisting labyrinth and to our destination. I was probably underdressed for the soiree. But I did, you should note, wear a jacket. At least until the second glass of tequila.
A morning flight after a party is ill-advised. But it was a known risk. So, here I am, once again in San Antonio, plunging back into the word mines. I hope you’ll enjoy what I dig up.
And now the obligatory marketing. I think you’ll like Cesar the Bravo.