Intending to go for an early-morning swim, I had set the alarm for 6. Realising that the sun wouldn't rise for at least another hour, by which time we'd have to have checked out, we went back to sleep in our tiny cubicle. A VW Beetle-taxi took us back to the bus station, and we were on our way to Mexico City once more.

We dumped our heavy bags in storage, bought a ticket to Oxaca (12.15am, the next available one), took another metro back to the city centre, and spent the day back in the capital; a little in an internet cafe that didn't like accessing UK sites, a little in the main square to watch the ceremonial daily de-hoisitng (lowering?) of the giant flag and a wander back, very slowly through some slightly dodgy backstreets to the bus station. Which is where I am now, writing this, at 10.30, with another couple of hours to go and a bemused but avidly-watching toothless nonogenerian Indian lady peering at my computer.

We should be in Oaxaca tomorrow, with any luck. Then it's just a matter of fining a bus to our next stop - a bad combination of too much and too little planing, something we'll have to rectify later.