After the rollicking good time we had on the previous night’s Urban Adventures tour of the capital (‘Turismo Mexico City 1: A Taste of the Capitalino Nightlife, Mezcal, Mariachis and Luchadores’) we decided the best way to catch more city highlights on our last full day in Mexico City would be to do the free city walking tour run by Estacion Mexico✼. We followed the tourist brochure’s instructions to look for a large pink umbrella…upon arriving at the designated meeting spot outside Catedral Metropolitana (AKA Catedral Mayor), despite the crowds milling round the cathedral, sure enough we were able to pick out the walk guide Mar, both from the pink umbrella she was brandishing and from her pink Estacion T-shirt with the upper case words “MAKE MEXICO GREAT AGAIN!” cheekily emblazoned on the back. Mar turned out to be a young “glass ¾-full” architectural student with a passion for the city’s heritage architecture which became readily evident as the tour progressed.
The walking route comprised a roughly rectangular course, fanning out from Centro and exploring the northern and western colonias (neighbourhoods) of Cuauhtémoc, the delegacíon (borough) which encompasses the oldest parts of the city, then circling back to Av Madero. Mar took us on a broad sweep of Cuauhtémoc including some of the less well-known back streets off the main drag of Turismo Centro…in Calle Donceles, away from the shiny, glossy 21st century shops of the city commercial hub, we saw a street with antiquated books (and bookshops) and an old theatre whose facade retained only a modicum of its past glory; in Calle República de Cuba we encountered a small shopping block which specialised in over-elaborate, ridiculous-looking bustle style ball dresses¤. Mar valued-added along the way…recounting various historical snippets, anecdotes and folklore about her city, a real insider’s perspective of the town which really enhanced our appreciation of Mexico City’s uniqueness.
One of the absolute stand-out sights architecturally we were indeed fortunate to see was Palacio De Correos De Mexico on the Eje Central. Also known as Correos Mayor (the Main Post Office), Italian-designed (same architect/engineer as the nearby, magnificent Pallacio de Bellas Artes) and built in the Spanish Renaissance Revival style with many eclectic features…but it’s Correos Mayor’s interior that is the real gem. Pride of place is the exquisite central stairway (laterial staris) with its two gilded ramps converging in sweeping fashion on the landing. By now means in the staircase’s shade is the building’s sublime elevator, a gorgeous feature which blends harmoniously with the interior’s gold-encased bars of the service windows. The bronze and iron window frames also set off nicely against the marble floor.
The free walking tour wound up in the western end of Madero in Historico Centro at an early 18th century church (San Francisco) opposite the House of Tiles, another unique CDMX building (the end of a good five hours spent!). We thanked the ever enthusiastic Mar for her vibe, expert knowledge and insights into an enormous city we had only barely scratched the surface of…I’m sure she appreciated the positive feedback and the glowing affirmation of the tour’s merits more than the small quantity of pesos we were more than happy to hand over as a parting token of our thanks.
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✼ I first heard about free walking tours when I was in Lima several years ago but it wasn’t until I was in Warsaw in 2015 that I really took advantage of this far-sighted tourism initiative and went on three or four city tours led by the local Warszawa legend Pse (this may be self-evidently obvious but its the skill of the actual tour leader in getting across the spirit and ethos of the place in only a few hours of contact time that really makes the experience memorable especially for first-time visitors)
¤ these utterly impractical dresses, shaped like grotesquely swollen vases, look like something Cinderella would wear, but I’d like to see some Mexican Señorina Cindy drive around the narrow streets in one of Mexico’s minuscule clone smart cars wearing this!
Having really enjoyed my first organised tour around the city markets and food outlets I opted to follow it up with one or two other city tours in the couple of days we had left in the capital. First, Urban Adventures’ night walking tour. We met up at six with our guide for the night, a relaxed, amiable guy with the unhispanic-sounding name of Milton, at a small design museum just down from the Zócalo. Milton took us first to nearby Cinco de Mayo (5th of May Street), a street notable for its restaurants, cantinas and drinking houses with names like Pata Negra, Sálon Corona and La Popular.
We stopped outside a fairly upmarket- looking establishment with velvet curtains and shimmering chandeliers called La Opera Bar whilst Milton explained the story of its particular fame. During the 1910s when Mexico was gripped by revolutionary fervour, the cantina had been the scene of a celebrated meeting between revolutionary bandit leaders Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata. At La Opera bar, Villa and Zapata, Mexico’s two powerful warlords got together to discuss their plans to carve up the strife-racked country. Villa immortalised the occasion by shooting a hole through the bar’s ceiling which is still visible today. Another more recent celebrity who frequented La Opera as a favourite watering hole was Columbian expat and literature Nobel laureate Gabriel Gárcia Marquez.
The tour then took us to Avenida Juárez and an elevator ride to the top of Mexico City’s tallest building, Torre Latinoamericanos, where we sipped cool cocktails (I had a frozen strawberry margarita) whilst admiring the 360° views of Mexico City from Level 37. Over drinks Milton talked about his environmental work for Greenpeace and mentioned that Mexico City had an ongoing major water problem (he hinted that one of the more affluent areas of the city has some sort of monopolisation of potable water which affects supply to the rest of CDMX!).
Back down at ground level, we strolled through the small garden park next door, the area had been given over to a public exhibition of 23 bronze sculptures by Spanish surrealist painter and celebrity oddball Salvador Dali. The famed Catalonian artist’s most famous/notorious paintings of warped clocks, burning giraffes and women with implanted drawers were on display as sculptural representations in a nice garden setting. Rejoining Calle Francisco I Madero I ask Milton about the various guys I have seen on the street wearing military style uniforms, playing organ grinders (sans monkeys!) and asking for money. Milton says it’s an old tradition of the city dating back to around the 1930s when ex-army officers were given permission to do this, and it became an established convention. It’s so widespread that it seems to me that this is another variant of begging so common in the city, but with a bit more structure and embellishment to it.
The next chapter of our tour linked up mariachi bands, cantinas, tequila and mezcal. We sampled some of the legendary hard liquor made from the agave plant to the accompaniment of raucous mariachi bands…in between songs Milton explained how a lot of the city’s many, many mariachi groups work. The mariachis congregate around Garibaldi Plaza, musical bands comprising violins, trumpets and guitars,who play randomly for people who turn up to hear them so as to hire a group for an upcoming wedding, party, etc. The musicians are effectively auditioning for jobs in the plaza! Mariachi band members are usually distinguished by their charro style dress (upmarket garb of Mexican horsemen), usually but not always in white, tight-fitting outfits with the broad-brimmed sombreros.
Upstairs after the tequila and mezcal sampling we explored a little Tequilia y Mezcal Museo/Tienda, finding out about the complex process of making these drinks (involving several stages of fermentation and distillation). The museum highlight for me was the staggeringly immense range of tequila and mezcal bottles and containers on display (characteristically the Mexican fatalistic obsession with skulls and the symbolising of death comes through strongly in the design of drinking vessels).
We topped the evening off with a bit of a cross-country hike via the Mexico City Metro…travelling on a uniquely colour-coded network of lines following Milton as he went confusingly from the Pink Line following an alternate colour line that took us to a separate platform in the opposite direction, so that we eventually about 10pm reached Arena Mexico across town in time to catch the last few bouts of Mexico’s other national obsession, professional masked wrestling. Known in Mexico as Lucha Libre (Sp. “Free fight”), this took place in a huge, cavernous old stadium. The dyed-in-the-wool, rusted-on Lucha Libre-obsessed fans (just about everyone else here!) cheered on their masked favourites…the most popular type of contests are trios contests (three-man tag teams). However I was more intrigued with the reactions of the fans themselves, their unrestrained enthusiasms for their heroes and equally unchecked abuse for the luchadors (wrestlers) assigned to be villains. They all just seem to buy it, 100 per cent! Most venom and opprobrium on the night was reserved for a luchador called Sam Adonis, introduced to the crowd as an American (interestingly “US Sam” at the end of the bout grabbed the microphone and harangued the crowd in fluent Spanish for a full five minutes!)
We made a slightly premature exit from Arena Mexico – nothing was spoiled, we weren’t psychic but somehow we sensed the “good guys” would triumph in the deciding third fall (tres caídas) – to avoid the end-of-night rush. Back at Colonial Doctores station, clutching our cheap souvenir luchador mask, we boarded one of CDMX’s strange box-shaped carriages for another zig-zagging journey on the Metro to Centro. When we alighted at our nearest Metro station, the obliging and ever affable Milton walked us back to our hotel near the Almeida Park.
Venturing outside of our hotel in Calle Luis Moya, the first thing that struck me about Mexico City was how cold it was. It was night and winter time but I somehow supposed its proximity to the Equinox meant the climate would generally be fairly tropical✼. Certainly, the attire of the Mexiqueños I saw on the street indicated that the locals themselves clearly felt the cold – puffer jackets, coats, scarfs, beanies and (always) long trousers were the fashion de jour.
The universal adoption of long trousers by the locals puzzled me a bit, it seems that Mexicans, even the youth, don’t tend to wear long pants – it isn’t the done thing culturally in the country apparently even in the stifling temperatures of summer. This immediately marked me out for all to spot as 100 per cent gringo tourist…I wore shorts most of the time, a Hungarian military style cap and either an Hawaiian shirt or a T-shirt. A hasty examination of the contents of my luggage revealed that I was well short on warm clothing, I had only brought one pair of long trousers (and these were lightweight Italian-designed jeans) and one warm pullover. On reflection I had the distinct feeling that my normal reductionist approach to packing was going to catch me out on this trip.
When I got out and about for my first exploratory saunter around the central part of Mexico City, I quickly became familiar with a characteristic of the city’s urban terrain, footpaths were consistently uneven, there were often large holes where concrete had broken up and been left unrepaired so long that people tended to use them as impromptu garbage bins! Walking on darkly-lit streets after nightfall proved hazardous…a couple of times I nearly came crashing to earth (actually concrete) when walking from a step onto thin air, not expecting the long, unseen (and unseeable) drop below to the ground. An added potential pitfall for pedestrians was the unevenness of steps, descending a series of small steps to suddenly find a large one meant you had to keep your wits about you at all times. Even on what you assumed was level ground you had to be wary, the pathway had a tendency to undulate all over alarmingly – this was probably the result of two related factors: the fairly regular seismic activity that CDMX was prone to✥, and the fact that the city, built as it was on a large lake, was slowly but inexorably sinking!
Crossing the road at intersections with significant car traffic proved challenging. The safest and wisest approach was to follow the locals, but you still had to be decisive whenever you set out to cross, Mexican motorists were uncompromising in their lack of restraint in using their horns at the slightest suggestion that pedestrians were taking liberties with the lights.
Being close to the old historical centre of the city my perambulations soon took me via the long pedestrian plaza of Francisco I Madero to the Zócalo. The Zócalo is very much the city’s hub. Easily spotted from the start of Madero by its steepling Christmas tree, the Zócalo is CDMX’s main square with a somewhat incongruous ice-skating rink on its perimeter. On one side is a line of grand government buildings including the National Palace, to the other is Mexico City’s main Cathedral. Just one block away from the Zócalo (= plinth) is the unearthed foundations of the Templo Mayor, In pre-Spanish times this was the principal ceremonial centre of the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan. In recent history the square has been the favourite venue for political protests (eg, 1968 university students opposed to police oppression, Zapatistas, etc).
Given the limited time we’d be in the capital we reckoned that signing on for a series of city tours was the best way to get to the heart of what Mexico City was about. The first day tour (of food and markets) was one offered by Urban Adventures. The food quest took us to the big central markets Mercado Abelardo L Rodríguez where we, wisely having skipped breakfast at the hotel, sampled the authentic diet of the masses. We started with different flavoured corn tortillas (vanilla maize tortillas a bit strange and challenging to the palate!) and later some delicious mixed tamales for lunch. The markets revealed a comida smorgasbord of idiosyncratically Mexican foodstuffs – from an exotic mix of spices and peppers to white corn to edible cactus leaves.
The massive, sprawling Rodríguez markets also does a sideline (very large sideline in fact!) in flowers and it was here that I discovered that the ubiquitous poinsettia plant (Euphoria pulcherrima, a Christmas favourite with its striking red and green foliage) though indigenous to Mexico was named after a Gringo from North of the Border! (1820s US minister to Mexico and botanist Joel R Poinsett).
Although I didn’t really appreciate it when I signed up for the trip to Mexico, a chance to taste real Mex-food rather than the bastardised and vastly inferior Tex-Mex substitute offered up in the West, was one of the best reasons to visit Mexico. Only then and there on the ground in Mexico can you evaluate its national cuisine properly and confirm among other things that the old Billy Connolly joke, thought funny and clever, is stereotypical and essentially wrong₪.
An interesting side excursion took us across town on a rickety old public bus crowded with locals. Like I had noticed in parts of Peru four years earlier, formal bus stops per sé didn’t exist, the people here also just somehow knew, from precedent and habit I guess, where to wait…the bus would duly stop at regular points on the journey to load and unload passengers. What I wasn’t expecting on the bus was the various hawkers who would get on the bus, travel a few stops without paying the conductor, and launch into a full-blown sales spiel for various products. One such Mexican “Joe the Gadget Man” who caught our eye (couldn’t but be aware of him!) was this chubby, perspiring guy who prowled up and down the aisle loudly proclaiming with speed-gun rapidity the virtues of some kind of ‘medicinal’ marijuana (in small green-topped tins labelled ‘Mariguanol’). Having made two, three quick sales within a short distance (to my great surprise) he promptly dismounted the bus to await the next ride. Our guide Pancho told us that many Mexicans believe in the healing powers of ‘grass’ for muscular ailments and the like.
When we too alighted the bus, Pancho took us to a couple of other shops which showed that the Mexiqueños’ love affair with food extended well beyond the merely savoury. These popular patisserie shops are often known locally as Dulcerías (essentially candy stores), where sweet-toothed Mexicans can buy all manner of sickly-sweet indulgences in pastels (cakes), tartas (tarts) and postres (deserts). Dulces de leche (caramel-tasting milk candies) and rompope (an eggnog concoction dipped in rum) are two of the Mexican comestibles much in demand. One famous shop (Ideal Pasteleria) we visited specialised in huge celebration cakes – signs on the tall and lavishly decorated cakes for birthdays and such occasions included the weight of the cake in kilos! This is practical information indeed allowing prospective purchasers to work out what size cake was needed to match the anticipated number of guests at the upcoming party/celebration! And of course, as our travels were to enlighten us, no decent restaurante in Mexico would fail to include at the very least pan dulce (sweet bread) or more likely an elaborate array of pastels on its menu!
PostScript: Whither Chocolaté in Mexico?
For a country whose indigenous people gave the world the cocoa bean and therefore chocolate, Mexicans surprisingly tend not to eat slabs of chocolate as the rest of the world do…their cocoa preference is decidedly for chocolate caliente (hot chocolate drinks). Even confectionary sold in the sweets aisle labelled as chocolate is usually wafer biscuits with icing rather than the real thing.
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✼ had I done my prep homework a bit better, the significance of Mexico City’s location atop a standard elevation of 2,250 metres, should have provided me with a few salient clues in this direction
✥ uncomfortable as this news was at the time, one day after I had paid for the Mexico trip, a magnitude 7.1 earthquake tore up part of the city
₪ “the thing about Mexican food is that its all the same, they just fold it differently!”
Getting to the land of corn tortillas and agave plants via American Airlines meant 12-13 hours in the air plus a tortuous three to four hour stopover at LAX. The dragged-out 16 hour total journey, such as it was, meant that it was of little solace to me that we reached our ultimate destination, Benito Juárez International Airport, around 3 o’clock (only four hours later than we had left Sydney on the same day – courtesy of flying ‘backwards’ across the International Dateline!) The process of connecting to a flight to Mexico via the US had already proved a taxing exercise with an unexpected and costly twist even before I had left Kingsford Smith.
My frustrations began with several fruitless attempts to secure a boarding pass through AA’s Sydney electronic ticketing system. An airline official intervened at this point advising me that I needed to obtain something called an ESTA* before I could proceed with my trip. This was news to me as my travel agent hadn’t mentioned this requirement to me during the preparations for my Central American tour. Arggh, bad start! The official directed me to a nearby Flight Centre office where I obtained the ESTA (at a moderate cost of $US14 – $A18.95) only to discover the sting imposed by Flight Centre who ripped me off to the tune of an additional $45 just to photocopy the single sheet document!
Being well and truly monetarily stitched up by Flight Centre was only the first travesty or inconvenience I had to endure in order to progress through US territorial jurisdiction successfully (but no means unscathed). By the time I had hit the tarmac at Tom Bradley International Terminal in LA my mind was confused as a result of a US Customs and Borders inflight video…the guy in the video was offering me, it seemed, two choices of entry to the US. In my jumbled head I had been still trying to come to grips with the significance of ESTA, and now he was rabbiting on about something called APC…and what was this Global Entry whatsamajazz thingy he mentioned as well?).
In the arrivals terminal, feelings of bewilderment as a consequence of an overload of Customs bureaucratic jargon was exacerbated by chaotic scenes of passengers streaming this way and that way from one end of the terminal to the other…airport officials were shuffling arriving passengers through never-ending lines like rudderless cattle through shutes✥. Why was it, I pondered frustratingly, that all these people were emptying off planes at the same time?). After several false starts and blind alleys (wrong queue, wrong forms … miss-a-turn, go back to the end of the other queue, do not pass Go! etc) I eventually worked out what queue I should be in and what documents I needed or didn’t need to fill out.
Even after I had got past the electronic interrogator with its game of 20 questions, the whole boarding process continued on and on with no apparent end in sight – positively labyrinthine I concluded! Collecting and reassigning my luggage was followed by mandatory de-belting and de-shoeing at the insistence of Customs Nazis barking orders and commands with Third Reich-like zeal (OK, yes American customs officers have no monopoly on bluntness or lack of manners…but they are certainly world-class in that department if my two horror stretches through the LAX maze is anything to go by!).
Finally free of electronic conveyor belts and scanners for a second time, I took some brief respite from the airport obstacle course by momentarily stepping outside the terminal long enough to get a sighter of the LA smog together with an accompanying olfactory dose of LA air before darting off to the departure gate for my connecting flight to Mexico.
Mercifully the second leg on AA2546 – from LA to Mexico City – was a much shorter and thus more tolerable experience, one fortified by an opportunity to sample the local Mexican cervezas…the aircraft however only carried Corona (which I was already familiar with being widely available in Australia) but I was to discover more and varied brands upon arrival in Mexico.
FootNote: On the ESTA form Customs and Border Protection heralds its new program called Automated Passport Control with a boast that it “expedites the entry process for eligible Visa Waiver Program international travelers”… umm, if that was fast-tracking, then I wouldn’t want to see it in operation on a slow day when someone had thrown a gigantic spanner into the works!
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* “Electronic System for Travel Authorization” – a visa waiver necessary to travel to/through the USA in this age of world-wide terrorism vigilance
✥ I can’t help but wonder what that cinematic cynical observer of modernity Jacques Tati would have made of the LAX spectacle of countless waves of humanity in the automatonic thrall of a Dalek-like army of little machines