There was a time when I was terrified to travel. This was when I was in my early 20’s and both Canada and my house were such comfortable havens to be in and the outside world seemed hostile and threatening.
But then a good friend of mine convinced me to go on a trip with him to Acapulco.
Acapulco was pleasant. The sun was therapeutic as it beat down on me and the beach sands were soothing under my bare feet. I was there for a week and, other than eat, read, and drink cuba libres, I did virtually nothing. Did not do any sightseeing; did not even try to find out any historical facts about Mexico.
As my views towards travel and my leanings towards Mexico changed, I have come to love the country despite the stigmas of drugs and violence often attached to the place.
Over the years, I have visited numerous places in Mexico, including Cancun, the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico City, and Cuernavaca. The last few years have been focused on San Miguel de Allende in central Mexico and where much of the action in my novel, The Monarchs, takes place.
Comparing Mexico to Canada would probably be unfair since both locations have pleasing characteristics for different reasons.
Whenever I visit Mexico, people, including young children, know the history of their country well. When there are parades to commemorate moments important to Mexican history, Mexicans know what they are celebrating.
When I get off the plane in Mexico, I suddenly recognize a transformation in me. The warmness in the air, the smell of native flowers, the sound of Mariachi bands that pervade the atmosphere as I travel towards my hotel all have an inebriating effect on me.
One might say that I am just captivated by my travelling experience and so this effect would register wherever I travel.
Perhaps. All I know is that the hospitality that comes when I am greeted by friendly Mexican people adds to the overall respect I have for the place.
This is why I continually go back.