At nine the next morning the tour minibus pulled up outside the Casa Italia and I boarded with seventeen other voyagers: an Australia mother and her young son on a ten month tour of the world, a ex-Ukrainian piano professor teaching at a Canadian University, and fourteen non-English speaking retired women on holiday from Mexico City. Ay Caramba! We had two tour guides: the bus driver whose charge was to wrangle the Mexican ladies and a young girl on her maiden voyage who was to guide us English speakers through the tour. She tried her best to parrot the info our driver was desperately trying to shout over the high decibel cackling of the ladies but her English was no match to his rapid-fire Spanish soliloquy. She got about every third or fourth word. For us it was like listening to a call on our iPhones when you're out of reach and all you hear is static. After the first half hour of travel the Aussies and I gave up but the Ukrainian professor persisted in questioning her as if she might have the answers to his all his technical inquiries.