México and all of it’s stereotypes good and bad came true in the form of a small town 20 minutes from Xalapa called Xico. Xico is part of Mexico’s richest coffee producing valley and all of the landscape is decorated in lush vertruse forests of trees, bananas and coffee plants. The town itself is a web of narrow, cobbled streets edged by a rainbow of houses and businesses lined up like teeth. Every block or so boasts it’s own colonial catholic cathedral and convenience store.

I took a day trip with my amigos Luiz, Steven, and Allison. First we visited the stunning Cascada de Texolo located less than 2 miles from the village. The view afforded from a dizzying bridge and from multiple vistas is quite magical. Crystal waters tumble more than 100 feet into the river below weaving it’s way through dense tropical vegetation.

After getting our fill of the view and the mosquitos, we began the trek into town. Before we made it, a guy at a cart offered us as many samples as we could stand of a syrupy beverage called torito. Toritos are mixtures of alcohol, condensed milk, and an array of flavorings from peanut butter to mango. They’re enough to put you into a diabetic como after a couple sips…but undeniably delicious.

The streets in Mexico can change from both ways to one way quite unexpectedly. We were chatting it up in Luis’s car when we missed the one sign warnig of the change. 4 seconds later we were pulled over by the traficantes. I felt bad for Luis, but I also thought “Awesome, real Mexico”. We paid them off for 50 pesos, the equivalent of less than 5 bucks. Then we made it to a patio cafe for chiles rellenos and micheladas.

I literally saw 3 different guys pass by on burros loaded with bananas during lunch. Across the street a hombre in a sombrero was taking a siesta leaned against a paint-chipped wall. The same riquity car passed by 4 times blaring ice-cream truck music from a mega phone horn half the size of the car itself. Sure enough, the passenger seat held an ice-chest presumably filled with frozen treats.

I’m still no expert on Mexico, but Xico seemed about as quintessential as it gets.