On Assignment

Photos by Lily Mitchell

That's right: That's me, in repose, in a quasi-infinity pool overlooking the Pacific Ocean off Playa Estacahuite, Mexico, population 168. With me is a 475-milliliter can of Victoria beer and a pool float that depicts a fiftysomething American man catching a sunburn to match mine. Curtis Mayfield was on the speakerbox. There were butterflies galore. And that, reader, is how I spent my Fourth of July.

Because my wife and I have been in Mexico, and enjoyed our time immensely. Over the past two weeks, we spent three days in the capital, five down by the beach, and another four among the mountains in Oaxaca. We have eaten octopus, shrimp, shrimp, lobster, and octopus, and imbibed everything from salted pilsners to rich mezcal. We have made friends and acquired clothing, and returned tired, hungry (for some salad), and relieved. And on the occasion of this special summer issue, we hope that you enjoyed our stay.

In Mexico City's Coyoacán borough, where the mezcal came with a side of chapulines.

At the airport in Huatulco, examining the collapsible plastic spoon that came with my strawberry yogurt

Friday in Oaxaca: a glass of the good stuff at 6pm.

Your intrepid reporter with the only shark he saw all trip.

Sundown at the Zócalo, where neighborhood parades convene for music, dancing, and fireworks

Saturday night in Oaxaca: We sat down next to a baker who just happened to own the spot we had been trying to revisit since our first day in town, only to find each time that it was closed. We drank together for hours, and at midnight he told us we were coming with him to his bakery, where we keyed through the gated doors, met his friends at a private patio in the back, and they put me behind the bar. I can't say for certain when we left, but do remember that ironically our new friend never brought out any comped snacks.