Padre? That’s Feva… There are

Padre? That’s Feva…

There are a lot of things in and around Texas that I’ve been wanting to do for a while, and one of them was visiting South Padre Island and going to Mexico, and with the Hip Crew’s help, I crossed them both off the list last weekend. If you get a chance you should go—but make sure you go at the right time.

It takes all of two seconds to realize that the city is completely supported by college visitors during Spring Break. Everywhere you look there are beach towel and boogie board stores, liquor stores, and cheap eats. 60% off! 70% off! 80% off!!!! By accident, we picked possibly the slowest weekend of the year, the first weekend of school. The water was warm (which we found out as soon as we got there), the beach was gorgeous (which we found out as we stumbled out of bed the next morning), and you can drink on the beach (also something we found out as soon as we got there). The hotel was on the beach, but only $89 a night so we were able to do it up on the cheap.

And since we were so close, how could we not go across the border to Matamoros, Mexico? After a couple directional misteps, and struggling with the Spanish language trying to get some eats at “Mister Taco”, we paid our 50 cent toll to cross the Rio Grande and into Matamoros. It’s quite interesting travelling with six other women (there really is nothing like sitting outside your room for a couple hours while they each shower and change), especially when you’re in a town like Matamoros. There seemed to be a guy with a slinky for a neck attached to every passenger-side window as we searched for a bar or club to hit. It was always fun to watch the wry smile melt from their face when they saw there was actually a guy amongst the roving pack of women.

After making a quick stop at a bar with the most watered-down drinks I’ve ever tasted, we ended up at Zero Zone, the strangest dance club that I’ve ever been to. It was actually a nice throwback to school getting a plastic cup in exchange for cover and getting to refill it as much as I wanted, but the DJ was downright loopy. 70s mixed with 90s, Techno mixed with Spanish Rock, Soft Cell mixed with Nine Inch Nails, and a bunch of sirens loud enough to make you lose your balance.

And even worse, everyone else in the club was dancing like it was freakin’ Funkmaster Flex up in the booth. They loved it! They knew all the words! And when the eardrum busting siren would come on, they would all start screaming and yelling! Aaaaahhh!

I enjoyed getting my drink on, but refused to dance out of principle.