Sometimes the best plan is no plan at all.

We landed in Mexico City late around 11:30pm, found our Airbnb on the second try, and crashed with the promise of an early start. By morning the conversation was simple: coffee, tacos, and walking a new city.

Our crew came together from different corners.

Carlo, my younger brother, flew in from San Diego. Surfer at heart, graphic designer by trade, always ready with a perfectly timed one-liner. Brian and Claire joined from Ventura, drawn to good food, good stories, and whatever alleyway looked worth exploring. Tony appeared quietly from some unknown corner of the world. Camera in hand, documenting it all like he’s been doing for over a decade.

Everyone carried the usual kit. CTB26s and CTB20s, packing cubes, a CAP1 and CAP2 each. Each of us also had a ____________, something new dropping this summer.

Hungry and directionless, we did the only thing that felt right.

We followed our noses.

The smell of slow-cooked meat drifted through Roma Norte as we wandered block by block. Tourist spots had lines out the door. Not our speed.

Then we saw it. A few locals on plastic stools, laughing mid-conversation, tacos in hand.

The grill was blazing. Meat hit the flat top, cheese melted into tortillas, and seconds later tacos were in our hands. Simple. Perfect. We stayed longer than planned, then walked a few blocks and did it again.

Call it research.
Call it curiosity.

Maybe we just love tacos and beer.

The rest of the day moved slowly. Full and happy, we drifted through neighborhoods; murals on the walls, food on every corner, the city buzzing around us.

-

Our second day started out heading south to Xochimilco. Boats slid through the canals while music echoed across the water. Vendors floated by with cold beers and hot food. We pulled off along the canal bank and found exactly what we hoped for: a taco stand working a flat top just a few steps off the bank.

More tacos.

Back on land we wandered through the street market, pointing at things we didn’t recognize and trusting the vendors when they nodded and said, “sí, bueno.” Mystery meats, fresh tortillas, spicy salsas. No translation needed.

That night ended at lucha libre, masks, chaos, and a crowd fully committed to the spectacle.

Eventually we spilled back into the streets and made our way home, tired, full, and already telling stories about the trip before it was even over.

All in all, a great trip. But that first morning set the tone.

Sometimes the best way to explore a city is simple.

Just follow your nose.