Like every Mexican town, San Blas has park benches in a proper square called a zocalo. But the cool kids hang out on this street corner. It’s where I wasted plenty of time after grad school. There’s a term for otherwise smart, college-educated American girls who stop shaving, learn to surf and drift into Mexican boyfriends: Sandalistas.
Luckily my only permanent souvenir from my Sandalista days was Wipeout: the puppy I later smuggled back to the United States.
Follow this bonus-material blog and ride along on a one-year road trip that inspired the memoir The Drive: Searching for Lost Memories on the Pan American Highway. On sale now. Get yours through the buy-the-book links at the bottom my teresabrucebooks.com website landing page or here or here. Like The Drive’s Facebook page and tweet back at me @writerteresa.