Guadalajara 2019 - A Trip to the Aquarium, an UBER Attack

At the suggestion of the guesthouse owner I set out one morning to the aquarium, a rather new addition to Guadalajara's attractions.

Although the brochure for the aquarium, oddly, didn't contain an address for the institution, I thought "over the last few days I have overcome both being stranded in an unfamiliar city and being smacked down by a Mexican wrestler, it's going to take more than a missing address to defeat me!" I looked up the aquarium on Google and ordered an UBER using the online address for my destination. The car arrived and began to drive through the maze that is Guadalajara and came to a stop in the middle of a nondescript block. I could sense immediately that something had gone awry. I used my phone to show him where I wanted to go. He used his phone, in translate mode, to tell me I had entered the wrong address. He told me, via his phone, that he would have to close out my current ride and then used my phone to order a different driver to take me to the aquarium. I stepped out of the car in a a part of the city I believe is referred to  as "God knows where" and waited for the replacement driver. He arrived within moments and I was soon deposited at the entranced to the aquarium.

A line of huge, brightly painted Coca Cola bottles stand outside the building. The company is a major sponsor of the venue, you come across their iconic images over and over again among the exhibits. In a rather unsettling manner the ticket window is mirror glass. I suspect this is so that the bright sun does not make life uncomfortable for the people working inside. A disembodied voice addresses me in Spanish. I don't understand a word. I take out my credit card and place in the slot hoping my intentions were obvious to the unseen person inside. The tips of fingers, all I ever saw of the woman in the booth, takes the card then returns it, along with a ticket, receipt and credit slip for me to sign. As with much of Guadalajara this action takes place with me standing outside in the Mexican sunshine. It was frighteningly cold at this time in Chicago, the sun was fine with me. I have a band with a bar code on it by another attendant, this one I can see, and am scanned through the turnstile.