Travel

In Zihuatanejo, Thursdays are pozole days

The air is hot and sultry, weighted with smoke and sea salt and the heady balm of pig fat. It's not exactly soup weather. It's the rainy season, July, when I'm in Zihuatanejo, which doesn't translate to any actual rain but rather a steamy, lazy heaviness that's boxed in by an unrelenting sun, with the Pacific Ocean in front and the Sierra Madre del Sur behind.

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