Travel Diaries - Page 2 of 2

A Pacaya Volcano Tour; a Volcano Pacaya hike

Day 8; An Antigua Volcano Hike

There appear to be no discernible road rules on the cobblestone streets of Antigua. Or at least, none obvious to a foreigner such as myself. Right of way appears to be straight, at intersections vehicles seem to take a gap when it comes. The town is busy today. Cars queue to turn down streets and pedestrians wait for a pause to dart between them. They dodge the motorbikes, sometimes carrying three people, also seeking the gaps to weave between. Honking the horn appears to be the signal to indicate someone can go through.

The rides in cars and shuttles are equally hair raising. Few people seem to wear seatbelts, when they are even present to wear. You cant help thinking if there’s an accident you’ll be a goner. But I haven’t seen an accident yet. Despite the way they drive, the chaos seems to work for them.

I am on my own this morning. It is sadly Ruth’s turn to be unwell due to the dinner she had without me. She has gone back to the hotel to rest in the hope of being up to the Pacaya Volcano tour which we have booked for this afternoon.

I have also booked myself into a tour of a coffee plantation for tomorrow. The travel agent has given me the best map I’ve seen yet and I am miraculously able to find my way around with it. If you come to Antigua do yourself a favour and get one of these first up! I’ve actually been able to intentionally find the chocolate museum. This took me past the first actual bottle shop I’ve seen and a store selling soaps so divine they smell good enough to eat. I’ve bought a bottle of rose Moscato (since they don’t seem to do sparkling wines here) for this evenings volcano viewing and a couple of soaps, though I’m not sure whether these will be gifts or I’ll hold onto them. I find Central Plaza which Antigua’s streets are designed around.

I don’t have time for messing around finding something for lunch so I head back to familiar Fernando’s. While attempting to locate Ruth’s direct route back to the hotel I get lost, again. Not having the time to go wrong I backtracked and flagged down a motorcycle taxi, bumping and bouncing all the way back to the hotel. I arrived with 20 minutes to spare before the scheduled volcano pickup.

Ruth has been lying down all morning but valiantly rallies to come along. We are waiting out the front of our hotel as directed ten minutes ahead of schedule. Naturally the pickup is on Guatemalan time and well behind schedule. Given our experience with tour pickups in Mexico City I ring the agency to confirm the booking. The bus pulls up about two minutes later.

It’s not very full but as is often the case this is just one of the pickup buses and we have to change to a final one. The next is overfull and I end up on the dicky seat folded out from the second-last row. It is woefully lopsided and I spent the next hour and a half sitting at an awkward angle, trying to brace my body to stay as straight as possible. Naturally there are no seatbelts!

A Volcano Pacaya hike

When we get to the Pacaya volcano we pay another fifty Quetzals to enter the park, this goes towards maintenance of facilities. The Guatemalan government declared 5,489 acres National Park in 1963. While the trails in this part are safe, it is not permitted to traverse them without a guide. Horses stand around with men holding their heads, repeatedly offering us a ride up. It is fresh but not unpleasantly so, and the hike will keep us warm.

Ruth unfortunately has to turn back a short time into the climb, as despite her hopes she hadn’t really been any better. She had told me on the bus not to wait for her, so once I have managed to communicate with someone who tells me she is safe I push on.

The walk is three and a half kilometres each way. I’m no stranger to a challenging hike, and I train with seven kilometre runs, but this was a completely different matter entirely, which I can only put down to the altitude. We were only ascending three hundred metres from our starting point, but that was already 2300m above sea level!

I tried to break only when the guide stopped but as we got higher I had no choice but to stop more frequently just to catch my breath, my lungs heaving to get enough air into them to push my body on. There were spectacular photo opportunities for Agua volcano part way up. As we neared the top my breath fogged with the plunging temperature and I felt cold in my t-shirt. It was a huge relief to walk over the last rise and see the fences marking the perimeter of the top.

**Volcan Agua – this is my favourite photo of my whole trip!**

The top of Pacaya Volcano

Unfortunately, we were now in the clouds and couldn’t see a thing! And it was freezing cold! There was no evidence of the promised sunset. Check out this post catching the sunset and checking out Pacaya’s lava in clearer weather.

We were led down another hill to a jagged black landscape I have seen before, in New Zealand. Our guide tells us this is the lava flow from the 2014 eruption. The rocks are sharp, and shiny in places, and the group carefully clambers over it posing for photos.

We were led to a part of the lava flow where heat still rises from the ground, and offered sticks and marshmallows. I leapt at the chance for a sugar hit more than anything, not having had time for snacks beforehand, and not having anything in my bag. We all genuinely attempted it, rotating our sticks around the fissure but the best I achieved was a slightly gooey outer.

By this time the light was disappearing. I don’t see well at night and I hadn’t brought my glasses. I was anxious to start the climb down.

The journey does go quicker, but before too long I was forced to flick on the torchlight of my phone to light my way. Even in daylight care would have been required, as the ground slipped and dirt slid away from under our feet. The dark added a whole other degree of difficulty. I reflected that this was probably not the most sensible thing I had ever done. The whole way down I tried not to think about what might happen if I fell. A view of the lights of San Vicente glowing against the darkened sky rewarded us towards the bottom. Back at the bus I make sure I am on board in time to get a stable seat. Ruth has spent the duration huddled in the rangers room watching TV in Spanish.

Clearly, I made it in one piece, my legs shaking from the exertion and sweat pouring off me despite the cold. This was my second volcano hike, the first being Greece, and it was a dramatically different experience. I can honestly say it was one of the most physically challenging things I have ever put my body through. It was all I could do to muster the energy to pack when we got back to our hotel around 8pm. There was no chance Ruth and I would be drinking that wine!

Finding Fernando; the best coffee in Antigua Guatemala

Day 7: Antigua

Our first full day in Antigua brought us the chance to walk the streets in daylight and really see the detail of the town. And what a curious place it is.

There are stretches of stone walls, often coloured and broken only by carved wooden doors. The ornate doors conceal expansive interiors built around centre courtyards filled with greenery and water features. The street frontage gives no clues to the beauty protected within. Every window has bars on the outside. Some residents have made the bars decorative by hanging baskets of flowers, adding splashes of colour against the stones.

The cobblestone streets are incredibly rough, it would be asking for a broken ankle to attempt walking in heels. I am thankful for my comfy sneakers, though even they occasionally stumble. It’s a wonder cars have any suspension left, especially given the way some of them drive. There are fairly modern cars, motorbikes and motorised scooters. Older style open tray utes pass us filled with adult passengers casually leaning back against the cab.

Cobblestone streets on the outskirts of town

The town is designed in a grid around a central plaza. Within its immediate square all the streets running North to South have the same name as do those running East to West. Numbers differentiate the parallel streets, such as 3rd Avenida Norte. You would expect this design to make it easy to navigate. Instead it forms a maze within which it is incredibly easy to get completely twisted around. We walked the same street three times thinking we hadn’t been down there yet. Adding to the confusion, outside of the centre grid the streets do not conform to the design, making our hotel challenging to locate. Galileo’s offline map functionality has been a saviour. Searching for particular stores we discover the numbering of properties on the streets is consistently out by one from the online address. But we’ve thus far found everything we’ve looked for.

Periodically we come across tiny little general stores filled with merchandise of all descriptions. The seller is often sitting behind bars. We even pass a few stores with an armed guard posted out the front, cradling a shotgun of sorts while keeping a watchful eye on the street.

The town is full of ruins, seemingly the remnants of a time gone by. We later learn they were damaged by an earthquake and left in states of disrepair.

The coffee in Antigua is renowned. So it is unsurprising that it seems there are several coffee shops and cafes on every street. There is one I have read raved about in every review, a place called Fernando’s. I am determined to try the best in town, so we pass them all in favour of finding Fernando’s.

When we come upon it on the corner of two streets, the doors stand open inviting us within. We step up to the counter but instead a waiter with a bright smile ushers us through the store to tables in the centre courtyard. A waiter brings us menus in English and we excitedly order what will be our first Latte in a week. In a quaint touch the front page of the menu introduces Misha, the resident cat, as being the one to see to relieve any worries or stress. I spot her lounging on a chair in the sun. The waiter eating his breakfast nearby tells us she loves the attention from people and we should feel free to say hello.

An older gentleman comes over and greets us with a kiss on the cheek like old friends. This is Fernando. In perfect English he thanks us for visiting and hopes we enjoy it. We comment on Misha’s presence and he looks over at her with a fond smile, “she’s my boss” he says.

Our coffees arrive and Fernando bids us farewell to drink them, hoping we enjoy them.

I am taking a moment to pause for effect…

The coffee is out of this world, like seriously good. I tell Ruth I am taking some home and ask the breakfasting waiter which of the bags on sale I am drinking. He tells me it is their finest one, the bags sell for 75 Quetzals, which comes to just over $13 Australian for about 450g. He asks us where we are from and nods knowingly when we tell him, “you are coffee snobs in Australia” he grins. We order another coffee and he tells us it is his opinion that their chocolate is even better. An inspection of the store shelves reveal flavours of cinnamon, cardamon and coffee, and even lavender. We try some samples as we leave and I walk out with three blocks and a promise to see them tomorrow.

Restaurants are also plentiful, we’ll clearly have no shortage of choice for food. Hotels are another regular sight, the tourist industry in Antigua appears to be booming.

Tourist agents are another common sight, one had been helpful in pointing us to the laundry that morning. After our coffee fix at Fernando’s we returned there to enquire as to the tour options available. We book in to hike Volcan Pacayo tomorrow. I would have loved to do the Acatenango hike, but I discovered once we got here that it’s a tough overnight climb. We don’t have the gear for an overnight hike, and we can’t fit it into our time in Antigua. Hence we are making do with the half day Pacayo trip. I am adding Acatenango to my bucket list instead. Spending the night watching Fuegos erupt from the peak of Acatenango is raved about by all as an amazing experience.

We had passed a number of day-spas on our wanders through town, but we went in search of the one I found recommended online. They couldn’t fit us in together so I took the first session and Ruth the next one, and had a lovely relaxing massage. I can recommend Healing Hands; one hour will set you back 250 Quetzals, or about $43 Australian.

I have stupidly not put painkillers in the bag I am carrying and unfortunately the migraine I had been fighting all day would stay at bay no longer. I returned straight to the hotel to call it a night, leaving Ruth to her own devices after her massage. I’ve recovered somewhat by the time she returns, and bound up the stairs in the hope of seeing a Fuegos eruption. I have to wait for a while, but I am finally rewarded with the sight of glowing lava spilling down the volcano.

Antigua; Courtyards and Cobblestones

Day 6; Mexico City to Antigua, Guatemala

I am so terribly excited to get to Antigua. I picked our hotel specifically because you can see one of the volcanoes erupting from the rooftop terrace! We’ll be there for three nights, before we move to another hotel in Antigua for the start of the tour and another two nights. The hotel used by the tour had mixed reviews. I had elected to choose our own hotel for the additional nights. Besides…Volcanoes! And I hear the coffee is amazing!

But first…more flying!

Back to Mexico City airport

The hotel called a taxi for us, slightly more expensive than the one we’d taken there from the airport. We’d considered an Uber but ruled it out given all the ones we had taken had been small vehicles, and we weren’t confident of getting one with space for our luggage. The guaranteed larger vehicles cost more than a taxi.

Our transfer to the airport was smooth and we found our check in counter after a long walk through the airport terminal. The attendant asked for my immigration form, which I had been handed upon entry into Mexico. My heart accelerated as panic kicked in. I was certain it hadn’t been given back to me. I located it safely in my document wallet next to my passport where organised me had placed it.

After offloading the bags we continued through the terminal, stopping off to use a bathroom. Now I wouldn’t normally go into details of such ablutions, but what happened in that bathroom has scarred me for years to come.

There were two cubicles. A step elevated the toilet in the right cubicle from the floor. Bizarrely this was for disabled use. Go figure. I hung my bags on the hook on the back of the door. Ruth immediately left the other cubicle, saying ‘I think that one is blocked’ to someone.

The toilet bowls in this part of the world aren’t the same as in Australia, the bowl is more elongated and the water level is much higher.

So I heard a flush from the next cubicle, and the unmistakeable sound of water flowing into an already full bowl, and then running over. I looked down at a rapidly spreading pool of water flowing under the door between the cubicles, bringing with it human waste of various form. ‘Oh my god’ I uttered with revulsion, thankful for the step upon which my feet rested and the hook that held my bags.

The entire cubicle was flooded a short time later. My saving grace, and that of the people soon to share a plane with me, was it had not yet gone under the door. From my step I was able to stretch to get my bags and put them over my shoulders, open the door and leap over the water to the safety of the dry tiles beyond.

We fled.

The rest of the visit to Mexico airport was uneventful, with patchy wi-fi (for me anyway) we waited for our plane. There isn’t a lot of choice for airlines so we flew Interjet, a local Mexican airline. While it was certainly a no-frills flight, I found I had more space than I had on our American Airlines flight to Mexico.

First glimpses of Guatemala

With impressive efficiency we are walking out of Guatemala City airport within thirty minutes of our plane landing. Our transfer driver is standing on the other side of a fence holding a sign with my name. We load on up and are on our way to get our first look at Guatemala.

The evidence of western influence abounds, advertisements for Pepsi (they like their sugary soda drinks here) and fast food chains on the side of the road, and on the road itself. It seems a higher proportion of the cars here are in better condition than in Mexico City, or are higher end vehicles. Toyota’s seem prevalent and motorbikes also appear highly common.

It took a little under an hour to get to Antigua and the change in the road once we enter the town was immediate. The streets were entirely cobblestone. We bump along at a much slower pace until we pull up to our hotel. The driver gets out and rings the bell.

Like most places here we soon find out, the exterior door of the Hotel Candelaria where we will spend our first three nights remains locked.

Courtyards and cobblestones

The main courtyard of our charming hotel

The doors open to the interior of the hotel, a reception area beside an interior courtyard filled with plants and a flowing fountain. The building was a square shape, built around the courtyard, and concealed by an exterior of plain stone walls. The two floors above are the same design. Railings fringe the edge of the hallways the rooms open onto, and there is open sky above the centre courtyard. The final set of railings lines a rooftop terrace. Our room is on the ground floor, with two double beds and a bathroom. It also has a wardrobe, dressing table and chair along the wall. A set of double doors opens onto a corner courtyard with another room on the other side.

I bound up the stairs to the rooftop while Ruth takes the opportunity to lie down.

From the rooftop terrace I can see three volcanoes that look over the town. I learn they are Agua, Acatenango and Fuego. Fuego sits beside Acatenango and is still active, periodically shooting small eruptions of smoke and molten stones into the sky. While I watch it sends up another plume of smoke. In the daylight I can’t see whether molten rock went with it.

My first view of Volcan Agua from the hotel roof

By the time we venture out in search of food darkness has set in. The hotel recommends a location to look for dinner since the hotel doesn’t serve it. Outside the safety of the hotel walls the streets of Antigua were dark. I was uneasy in a new place. The most well-lit option was in the direction recommended by the hotel attendant. Before too long we came to the Hotel San Domingo complete with a lovely rooftop terrace. I enjoyed a tasty bit of steak and a Pina Colada or two. Not knowing the area we happily headed back to our rooms and bed.

Chasing the tour bus to Frida and a blue house

Day 5: The Frida Kahlo house and New Years Eve in Mexico

The Frida Kahlo house was top of Ruth’s list for Mexico City, but we had been unable to get tickets online. The hotel told us that we could go and lineup anyway, but there would be no guarantee of getting in.

So we were looking at tours again, despite our experience at Teotihuacan.

I had spent the previous morning on my phone searching for tours that included the Frida house. I found a full day one which sounded ok and booked it for today, our final day in Mexico City. Pickup was 9am from the Palace of Fine Arts, about a 5min walk from our hotel. We were there at 8.45am.

We waited.

And we waited.

A few minutes after 9am no guide wearing the tour company shirt had made an appearance. I dug out the number and started ringing. Or trying to at least, all I got were tones. Ruth had no luck from her phone either.

Eventually I took another look at the information and found the same number listed again. This time it had two additional digits. I tried it and what do you know it started ringing! Buyer beware if booking this tour through Viator.

What followed was a frustrating 20 minutes of trying to make myself understood. I discovered that we’d been waiting in the wrong location for the bus which had of course now gone. I tried to establish where the tour would be at what time so we could attempt to join it. Finally I managed to ascertain we could meet at the Frida Kahlo house, figuring that we could get in and if we ditched the tour after that then at least we’d got there.

Ruth called an Uber and we were on our way. The person I had been speaking with wasn’t clear on the time our group would be there. I expected to find them inside, leaving us limited time if we chose to continue with the tour. Instead we were instructed to locate someone in the line. It transpired that we were looking for the driver of the bus and the tour group would be following. The driver was waiting to collect the tickets and told us we could wait across the street. We weren’t game to let him out of our sight!

I didn’t know much of the story of Frida, and it wasn’t on my list of things to do, so when the guide told us we had just over an hour inside I felt it would be plenty of time for me. While the art and the stories were interesting, I enjoyed the gardens more than the art. Scattered throughout the gardens were signposts containing quotes from Frida or her husband Diego Rivera, also a famous artist. They told what was clearly a great love story. Frida certainly had to overcome many challenges in her life. Ruth felt she went through a little faster than she otherwise would have but we both felt we had enough time.

We rejoined the tour for the activities that hadn’t really interested us. Floating on barges down a canal at Xochimilco had looked ok on the website, but the reality was it was so crowded we may as well have been playing dodgem barge. Boats floated alongside us cooking our lunch for a price I would have paid in a quality restaurant. It was certainly not to that standard. For the second time in two days I wondered if I would be ending up with food poisoning from the experience. A Mariachi band hopped on our boat to play a few songs.

We were given half an hour to wander stores with more of the same merchandise we’d already seen, and did a walking tour of the Mexico University – described as Mexico’s Harvard but I think they might be aiming a tad high on the scale – before we thankfully were dropped off ahead of schedule.

And then it was New Years Eve! Nineteen hours after it was at home.

It was almost an obligation to experience New Years Eve in a foreign city so we dressed up and went searching for the party. However when we got to the main square it was far less busy than it had been previous nights which didn’t fit what Edgar had told us. We asked a young girl and was told there would be fireworks later.

We left in search of dinner, ending up at a place not far away that was blasting Latin music and spruiking on the street below. It was packed out so the service was incredibly slow, though our waiter was lovely and clearly run off his feet. On Edgar’s recommendations of foods we must try I ordered the Chicken Mole, a sauce made up of 50 odd ingredients including chocolate. I didn’t dislike it but it was certainly a very different flavour, I think it may be an acquired taste.

We stopped by the still empty square before we decided to return to our hotel for a drink and ascertain if we were missing something.

Yep. The party was nowhere near us.

The concierge described it as a twenty-five minute walk. But it was closer to forty. We could hear the music from ages away, taunting us as being just out of reach as it floated to us on the breeze. We finally got there at 11.30pm.

They had closed an entire street. A Latin band played on a stage at the end and people packed the street watching the stage and screens. As we walked through the throng to get closer people were dancing salsa where they had the space. A cold wind blew across the crowd without dampening their spirits an iota. All around me voices conversed rapidly in Spanish but everyone knew the words when the countdown started, hurling them out into the night followed by deafening cheers and applause. The fireworks commenced with a bang to a chorus of more cheers as everyone gaped into the air and sang out ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the appropriate moments. It was all over in just over 5 minutes. It was nothing on a Sydney display but still pretty cool to watch.

We were exhausted from our long walk and being on the go all day. Since our flight to Guatemala is in the morning we decided it was time to call it a night. We walked away from the celebrations and attempted to call an Uber, four drivers accepted and then canceled before we gave up and just walked back anyway.

Mexico City, its been rad. Next stop: Antigua!

Chapultepec; The Castle of Mexico City

Day 4: Chapultepec Castle

Serendipity: A fortunate accident

I had a solid 8hrs unbroken sleep last night. With no locked in times for activities we’d permitted ourselves a much needed sleep in. Our plan was to head to Chapultepec Castle and explore another part of the city.

It was a couple of stops on the metro, so we asked our hotel the best way of getting there. We were emphatically told we would be a clear target on the metro and an Uber was best.

And so it was Ruth and I had our first experience as users of Uber, and it was a slightly confusing one. Our driver didn’t look like his photo at all, but he nodded when we said the name. He said something in Spanish, I asked if he spoke English and he said no. We assumed he was confirming our destination and I repeated it, while Ruth whispered ‘why doesn’t he know where we’re going?’ I found out later I was mispronouncing the name so this may have led to some of the confusion! We were reassured that we were traveling in the right direction when Ruth checked google maps.

Seems his confusion was genuine as he pulled over somewhere that wasn’t Chapultepec Castle and said something, we went to get out of the car and he started driving again and did another lap of where we had just gone. Eventually he pulled over again and we were able to convey that we would get out.

He had dropped us near some sort of military installation and a number of guards were looking at us with interest while Ruth tried to find our location on google maps. One approached us, obviously concerned with our presence there. I asked him if he spoke English (an often uttered phrase I am finding) and it sounded to me like he said ‘no I don’t speak English’ in English, so I thought he was being a smartarse and continued in speedy English.

Blank look number 1. Some phrase in Spanish.

Ok, really no speaka English.

‘Chapultepec Castle?’

Blank look number 2. Ummmm…

‘Donde es Chapultepec Castillo?’ I say, rather proud of myself at this point.

Blank look number 3. A moment, then comprehension dawns, ‘aaaah’

He proceeds to speak quickly in Spanish illustrated with pointing gestures. I replicate his gestures to confirm and he says ‘Si’

‘Muchos Gracias’

Communication here is comprised of incomplete sentences or the odd Spanish word and some gestures. I have learned how to ask for the bill after a couple of days of miming writing on our hands.

We set off on foot and walked past some kind of military installation, evident by the men patrolling with guns, and after this find the entryway to another green oasis in the city. While I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to find myself walking through there at night it was a nice stroll during the day.

I was super excited to see squirrels, much to Ruth’s amusement. They remind me of my time in the UK as a child.

In a lovely shaded little grove speakers played soft music and forest noises, and people lay back on sloped park benches enjoying their moments of tranquility.

Just beyond we could see the castle rising out of the trees on the hill above us and we had finally found it! A climb up the hill and 70 pesos later we were in the grounds.

Given the Spanish influence in the city it shouldn’t have felt strange to be in a place so clearly European. By far the strangest thing was a building so opulent and grand, with Mexico City visible from the grounds and balconies. We could also see a lake with boats from the balcony and after leaving the castle decided to head there to take a look.

It transpired that the castle was the venue for the ballet advertised in town. A courtyard stage had the seating for the evening show set up before it. We enquired at the gate as to whether there were any tickets available for the evenings performance, once again using words and incomplete sentences. The man in the ticket booth confirmed what the website had shown, that it was sold out.

At the bottom of Chapultepec Hill every part of the paths leading through the park was occupied by a stall selling something, for as far as you can see. Ruth finally got the Churro she’d been dying to try, and my hunger drove me to try one also, despite not actually liking the ones I have tried back home. Turns out I don’t like them in Mexico either.

Upon stumbling into the food area we had menus thrust in our faces the moment we entered, not realising that the whole stretch of the frontage was different food stands and we’d just been neatly lassooed by the ones who happened to snaffle the prime location at the entry. My meal had me wondering if I would be suffering from food poisoning later.

When we found the lake the boats turned out to be paddle-boats. Since it was a lovely sunny afternoon, 60 pesos later I was awkwardly positioned in a seat that had me virtually lying down. We definitely did not skip leg day!

We had planned to check out the Anthropology museum which was nearby, but we decided to hit the shops and instead found a landmark (stopping to pose with an angel wings sculpture on the way) and called for an Uber to collect us, having a much smoother interaction than the morning although he also spoke no English.

The change room mirrors were below my eye level. Apparently I am not Mexican sized.

Since we couldn’t go to the ballet, Ruth wanted to check out a rooftop bar she had read about which looked over the main square. While I waited for our cocktails Ruth went out onto the balcony to try and rustle us up some chairs.

When I finally emerged onto the balcony Ruth was deep in conversation with a local couple who turned out to be seriously lovely people. We had a drink with them then went our separate ways to go in search of dinner. While we were waiting to pay our drinks bill they came back in and asked if we would join them for dinner so they could show us the real Mexican experience.

What followed was a night full of laughs and great conversation that is a highlight of our trip so far. Apparently there is Mexican food, and then there is Mexican food. Like saying pizza is Italian. Edgar and Andra took us to a restaurant called Azul. It was so busy our table was an hours wait so we went to the rooftop bar above it called Down Town to wait.

Down Town is apparently where all the VIPs go, it sounded perhaps like the Ivy in Sydney. Edgar pointed out a media star to us, a name which meant nothing to us of course! We ordered an appetiser while we waited – if you ever go there do yourself a favour and get the shrimp tacos. Just wow!

So then we had our real Mexican culinary experience. While the food we’d been eating was really tasty it was more of your street/cafe food. Azul was a nice restaurant, and the distinction was evident. Meals were still cheap by our measure at about $12 US a main. The menu featured specialties local to the different parts of Mexico and the food was divine!

Andra and Edgar were wonderful company. Ruth and I were able to ask the many questions we had about life in Mexico. Edgar confirmed my mothers fears that Mexico is actually quite a dangerous place. It was quite safe at this time due to the extra police presence for Christmas and New Year. It was Edgar that told us we had inadvertently stumbled into the black market. Edgar didn’t think his English was very good and relished the chance to practice! Meanwhile my mispronunciation of Chapultepec relaying the story of our day had him roaring with laughter as he corrected me! For future reference it is Cha-pull-tepeck.

It was nearly midnight when we returned to our hotel, elated at having had such an amazing and totally unplanned evening and making new friends.

For more recommendations for Mexico City take a look at 5 reasons we love Mexico City.

Visiting Teotihuacan from Mexico City

Visiting Teotihuacan – a tour experience

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In what was a lesson in blindly taking recommendations and not asking enough questions, we had the hotel book us into a day trip out to Teotihuacan, one of the largest Pyramids outside of Egypt. We didn’t get to Teotihuacan until 1pm, had nothing to eat until 4pm – which was dreadful – and were dragged around to things we weren’t at all interested in doing.

On our way out to Teotihuacan we stopped off at Tlatelolco, Aztec ruins so close to the city they are surrounded by modern constructions. It is also the site of a mass grave located by archaeologists in 2009, believed to be from the Spanish conquest.

My big tip for Teotihuacan is get there early, like this! The sun rises over the Pyramids and it is far less crowded. When we got there the crowd was unlike anything I have ever seen with queues just to get to the climb itself. It took us well over an hour to get through the queue and climb the 243 odd steps and 65m to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun. When we got there we were unable to take a single photo without someone standing in the way! The middle of the day is the hottest part, and the area is completely exposed to the sun. It is less than pleasant to be waiting and climbing in the full strength of the sun.

Despite this, it was a pretty darn cool experience! The pyramid borders the remains of the Mesoamerican city Teotihuacan, long ago abandoned to the elements for reasons no one has ever discovered. From the Pyramid you can see the structure of the city stretching out below.

There are two pyramids, the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon. The Pyramid of the Sun is the larger of the two and the one you are able to climb. Parts of the steps are dangerously steep and narrow. It wasn’t hard to imagine us all toppling down like dominoes should someone lose their balance and slip. I held onto the guiderope tightly in some parts going back down.

It was insanely crowded at the top of the Pyramid of the Sun, everyone jostled for the best position, arms thrust in the air seeking the perfect selfie. We found the next layer down was far less crowded and spent some pleasant time sitting on the edge, with enough space to take clear photos.

The Pyramid of the Moon from the Pyramid of the Sun

I’m not going to go into detail about the average meal while serenaded by Mariachi singers, nor the stinky workshop where we sampled liqueur made from cactus and Mexican rum. The rum was like rocket fuel but the liqueur actually wasn’t bad.

We also stopped by a silver factory to watch Rafael, who designed the jewellery for the movie Titanic. We each got a design carved in a small piece of silver. I wonder where mine is…

We did meet a lovely kiwi couple on their honeymoon who were great for some laughs. Unfortunately they flew to Cuba the following day or we would have caught up with them again.

Our final, reluctant stop was the Basilica of the Virgin Mary, which stands beside a newly built one. The original is the oldest church in Mexico. It was the strangest experience walking through it, as I felt I was walking lopsided. The Basilica has a distinct lean. Mexico City sinks a couple of centimetres each year, due to being built on an underground lake. It’s more obvious in some buildings than others but not easy to capture in photographs.

So it’s pretty evident that while I do recommend visiting Teotihuacan to anyone traveling to Mexico City, I wasn’t a massive fan of this particular tour. But let me provide you with some other options.

How to get to Teotihuacan

Teotihuacan is located around an hours drive from Mexico City, so this isn’t a journey you can undertake on foot. There are a number of options for getting there.

Bus to Teotihuacan

The bus from Mexico city to Teotihuacan leave approximately every 30 minutes from Terminal del Norte, or the Potrero Metro station. As at April 2019 a ticket will cost 50 pesos one way. There are reports of robberies on the buses however, so best to leave expensive gear at your hotel if you are choosing this route.

Uber to Teotihuacan

Uber tends to be a cheaper option than taxi’s in Mexico, and potentially safer given the presence of unauthorised taxi’s, but according to online forums a trip out to Teotihuacan will cost approximately 500 pesos each way depending on the demand at the time. Given this is around US$25, this might be a good option particularly if you are sharing the costs with others.

The advantage to making your own way is the freedom to spend as much time at the site as you want, rather than being limited by the tour itinerary. All that I had the time to do was climb the Pyramid of the sun and take some cactus photos! There is a whole city to explore as well as the museum.

Tour Teotihuacan

Now just because the tour I took didn’t turn out quite the way I expected doesn’t mean they are all bad. And there is the benefit that a tour will include the costs of entry to Teotihuacan as well as the transport.

I recommend getting to Teotihuacan early before the sun and the crowds, so a sunrise tour might be worth checking out. This also means you have some time to look through the museum and more of the site, instead of just climbing the pyramid.

You can also organise a Teotihuacan Private tour.

For a different experience you can also take a hot air balloon over Teotihuacan before your walk through the city.

Teotihuacan Entrance Fee

If you choose to make your own way for a self-guided tour, there is an entrance fee of 75 pesos, which includes entry to the museum.

Teotihuacan Hours of Operation

Teotihuacan is open every day of the year between the hours of 9am to 5pm.

Wandering Mexico City, and the black market

Day 2: Mexico City

I think I was asleep almost as soon as I turned out the light and I awoke full of beans and ready to explore Mexico City. Given local time was 11pm at night though it didn’t seem like the wisest idea. The king bed we’re sharing is amazingly comfortable and staying in bed isn’t a bad alternative.

Outside the sanctuary of our room the morning proved to be colder than expected. The chill air from the front door washed by me in the courtyard as I ate breakfast. It drove me to seek warmer clothes and reminded me that despite the warmer days, it is winter here.

Breakfast in the courtyard of Hotel Historico Centrales

A chatty NZ tourist had mentioned to us last night that Mexico City didn’t really get moving until after 10am and when we ventured forth this proved to be the case. The street looked like an average street.

By the time we emerged from the Temple of St Francis of Asissi the street resembled the busyness we had encountered before. It was worse than a Sydney peak hour – all day. We had no real plans for the day other than to explore the city and wandered the garden of sculptures by Salvador Dali next door to the temple before we rejoined the crowd.

There are police at every major intersection, despite the existence of perfectly clear traffic signals. Their whistles overlap the strange trilling of the flashing green pedestrian crossing man. At the first hint of either the crowds surge forward like a singularly focused hive-mind leaving you no option but to move with the flow. You barely have space to put your heel in front of the other toe and it takes swift manoeuvres to extract yourself from the stream.

We took a walk around the Fine Arts Palace, currently showing a traditional Mexican folk ballet for which we’re hoping to get tickets and strolled through the markets behind it. Some unique gifts tempted me, until I moved to the next stall and found the same merchandise repeatedly appeared, indicating its true mass produced origins.

At the metro station we scratched our heads and pondered how the fares worked, a puzzle for another day, before meandering through Alameda Central Park, a green oasis in the middle of Mexico City’s bustle.

In search of the Cathedral of the Assumption, written to have exceptional views of the city, we walked to the other side of the Historic district. Unfortunately both bell towers were closed to the public for renovations and we had to be satisfied with wandering the spacious interior instead.

A man on the street attempted to sell me a Spanish newspaper. I shook my head and said ‘no Espanol’ with a smile, which he returned and said brightly ‘welcome to Mexico!’ The streets are full of voices calling out in Spanish. People thrust cards and pamphlets as you go past trying to lure you into their restaurants or stores. I politely decline most, but one made me double-take as I realised he was selling freshly squeezed orange juice. He responded fifteen pesos to my ‘Cuanto questas?’ I nodded ‘Si’ and was handed a large cup of fresh juice for less than $1 US.

The efforts I made to learn some basic Spanish are coming in useful. I have uttered ‘Cuanto questas’ often today. Though being a gringo with limited Spanish has the advantage of being genuinely blank when bombarded by people selling something! It is unfortunate the lack of English translations on the labels in many of the museums limited my experience.

I am again reminded of Manila, which occurs to me makes sense as both were Spanish colonies. Much of the architecture reminds me of a roman influence also, perhaps it is the prevalence of the catholic cathedrals. The number of street performers, especially at night, is also reminiscent of my time in the Philippines.

On the other side of the Cathedral of the Assumption, we find a stretch something like a stormwater drain with beautifully painted walls and stalls lining the sides of the street. While we seem to be walking away from the main hub of the city there are still plenty of people around, but we turned back because we wanted to get to the tower in the other direction. When I describe this spot to locals Ruth and I met a few days later they told us with wide eyes we had been in the black market – where anything you could imagine is sold and quite a dangerous part of town. Whoops!

We thought this part of town was so pretty with the painted walls, we found out a couple of days later it was the black market!

They seem to have a museum for everything here; Cultures, Photography, Caricatures, Economics, Art, and Remembrance and Tolerance to name a few. We ventured into a number of them. A young girl with impeccable English interviewed us for her school project at the old palace of the Archbishop. Her father beamed with pride while filming her, not understanding most of what we said. Then our aching feet sent us in search of the Latin America Tower for its 360 degree views of the city.

Mexico City is immense, which you realise when you’re looking down from the birds eye view. As far as my eye could see in all directions there was the city. Parts of it were clouded with what I assumed was smog, but I later learned was actually fine volcanic ash.

We searched for somewhere different for dinner, looking for the key indicators of local presence to measure standards. I ordered a cheese empanada and nachos. The nachos barely resembled those served up in western society. A salty goodness of crunchy chips topped with a couple of liquid sauces, diced fresh tomato and onion and jalapenos. The empanada was out of this world! We also had a couple of cocktails each – best Pina Colada I ever had – all for less than 300pesos each! All up I’ve gone through a smidge over half of the 2000 pesos I withdrew yesterday. Half went on the taxi, tower entry, deposit on the power adapter from the hotel and a new pair of sunglasses after mine broke this morning!

Tomorrow we venture to Teotihuacan – one of the largest pyramids outside of Egypt – recommended as must see by my boss. I anticipate a pretty good sleep given today’s seven odd hours of walking!

You can check out other amazing things to do in Mexico City in 12 reasons to visit Mexico City.

When in Mexico, order from a menu you can’t read

Day 1: Off to Mexico City!

4.30am isn’t pretty, regardless of the reason why you’re meeting it. Except perhaps if it’s still being up from the night before. In which case it’s probably a precursor to a splitting headache at some point in the forseeable future.

Dad picked me up at 6am to catch the train into Sydney. Getting up at 4.30 gave me enough time to get ready, have a sit down breakfast and coffee (plunger since my espresso machine decided to die three days ago – the second one that’s died right before a trip) clean up and put the dishwasher and washing machine on. However, it didn’t allow me time to undertake my habitual checks that I had everything. I am instead reassuring myself that I laid out everything requiring packing, checked it and packed everything laid out. If I have forgotten anything its well beyond too late now!

In an annoying hiccup the switching of my Telstra SIM to my Covermore global SIM seems to have erased the ability of the google play music app to read my music. After some examination I did locate all my music, but can only play it track by track, which will get annoying really fast. Still, after the internet and computer dramas that had me hurling choice words at my service provider yesterday, if that’s all that goes wrong I’ll cop it.

It is now 3.15am back home in Oz, but I’m still counting it as day one as I’m still in transit and it’s 8.16am on the same date as I left.

The flight over was uneventful, I watched four movies with intermittent and fruitless attempts at sleep between. I’ve never been able to sleep on a plane, and I’ve been flying for as long as I can remember. I can’t drown out the constant drone of the engines. So in an hour I’ll have been awake for twenty-four straight, and I’m feeling it. If LAX had a flat couch for me to lie I suspect I would be out for the count!

Our 6am landing in LA meant the airport was virtually empty when we arrived, and our experience was nothing like the grilling I had been bracing for. Of course the downside is the amount of time we now have to kill before flying to Mexico City!

And then there was the flight to Mexico. I did manage to grab a smidge of sleep I think, probably due more to my brains lack of ability to stay awake than a conscious effort on my part. The flight was full and incredibly cramped for space and I was more than eager to disembark and stretch out my locked knees.

To our surprise our journey through the airport was smooth, and I was quite chuffed when I was directed to an aisle and understood the Spanish number I had been given. The guy at the counter spoke to me in Spanish but switched to English effortlessly when I asked if he spoke it.’Tu Hablas Englis?’ is going to come in very useful.

My boss had given me the heads up to purchase the taxi fare before leaving Mexico City airport to ensure we were on an authorised taxi instead of a scam. It seemed strange walking up to an airport counter and asking for the taxi fare to our hotel, but the cashier nodded and gave us a ticket. At the set rate it cost us 225 pesos. That’s a little over ten USD for what was about a twenty minute ride. Our driver spoke no English. We each made some attempts at conversation but soon gave up with friendly giggles when his Spanish was way beyond my limited capabilities.

The service at the Historico Central hotel was an impeccable standard and it is quaint and comfortable, and centrally located in the historic district of Mexico City. Surprisingly I had hit my second, or maybe fourth wind by the time we reached the hotel and I was keen to venture out for some exploration. Mexico City reminds me very much of Manila, it has a similar look and feel, with a splash of the street entertainers that are commonplace in Boracay. There is plenty more to see yet!

Keen to try the local experience we walked into a busy taco place and pondered a menu written in Spanish upon which we were lucky if we could recognise a few words. And the waiter spoke no English. In the end we just pointed to two items and hoped for the best.

Doesn’t that green dish look tasty! It wasn’t!

The experience was totally different to what you would expect back home, where you would generally be handed a hard shell full of whatever you’ve asked for. We were instead presented with five soft tortilla’s each, slightly floury in texture, and the two plates full of our chosen fillings.

An assortment of trimmings and sauces were placed on the table between us to be added as we chose. A couple of the sauces were eye-wateringly spicy. This resulted in large gulps of the delicious but no doubt filled with sugar Sangria soft drink we’d ordered. I’d recognised it on the menu and believed it to be actual Sangria. We still had no idea what one of our fillings was, but it tasted strange and we weren’t overly keen on it. The other however, was a chorizo filling and was exceptionally tasty, and we enthusiastically loaded up our tortilla’s and added the sauces we’d confirmed as safe for our non-Mexican palates. We both had our fill plus a drink for the grand total of 186 pesos plus tip!

But for now its nearly 8pm and I’ve not properly slept in about thirty-six hours so time for a shower and bed!

You can check out other things to explore in Mexico City with 3 days in Mexico City.

Category: Travel Diaries