Hookerville (December 23 -- Evening)

After a the long day of Tula and Trotsky, we headed back to the hotel to change and find somewhere relaxing for supper. We read in my tour guide book about a Middle-Eastern restaurant past the Zocalo, so we planned our subway route and took off. The station spit us out at a busy station, we discreetly got our bearings off of our map, and set off through the late-night crowd.

The restaurant was five blocks away. However, after walking a great distance, we realized that something was not right; we were surrounded by hookers. We had never seen so many in one place before. Street cops were everywhere, and queues of men were standing outside of doorways. I think we were the only white people...

Needless to say, we retraced our steps as quickly and nonchalantly as possible back to the subway. We don't know how we ended up where we did, as we were following our map...

We made a new route, and tried again to find the restaurant. This time, we were wandering up and down deserted, garbage-strewn streets with little light. Small groups of men huddled outside of doorways, watching us...

We finally found the restaurant, and it was closed.

We threw in the towel, had a quick bite at a cafe, bought beer and chips at a convenience store, and called it a night.