The Mezcal Rush. Granville Greene

I listened to the upbeat polka-infused music, watched the kids play hoops, and gazed into the misty valley plunging below, I realized that this wasn’t at all how I had expected Santo Domingo Albarradas to be. It wasn’t the romanticized village Howard visits in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre; nor was it a fantasy Wonderland populated by smoking caterpillars and grinning cats; and it wasn’t as colorful as the picture on Del Maguey’s bottle label. It was just what it was, and I knew I had to come back for more.

       Agave angustifolia

PART TWO