Monday, February 18th, 2019
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| Breakfast overlooking the Mexico City Zocalo |
We savor breakfast with the view and at 9:15 A.M. are picked up for our tour to the Teotihuacan Pyramids. The van is tiny and crammed with a half dozen passengers but we soon realize that we are being shuttled to a meeting place where we will be transferred to a larger bus. We wait for the transfer and are finally on our way at 10:00 A.M. Our first stop is the Plaza de las Tres Culturas, excavated Aztec ruins. Our mediocre but well intentioned guide speaks in length about the site in Spanish but his abbreviated English version of the history is unclear. His motivation however soon becomes crystal clear when he begins prepping us for the clean bathrooms and free coffee at the upcoming silver factory stop. There was no mention of a stop at a silver factory on the itinerary and I flash back to our trip to China where I felt held a hostage in cavernous gift shops while we waited for someone on our tour to complete a purchase (resulting in a commission for the guide.) Our bus deposits us on a city street lined with silver shops but we are ushered towards one in particular and directed towards the bathrooms in the back. This requires us to all file past numerous showcases filled with sterling silver jewelry. The tiny, three stall women’s bathroom is indeed clean but one can barely turn around in it and there is one sink shared between both the men’s and the women’s bathrooms. If this is to be the highlight of our tour, I am worried.
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| Metal workshop beside the authorized silver factory. |
There is a family of nine from Patagonian on our bus and they have taken the bait and are shopping. As a jeweler, I am interested in what motivates people to purchase these overpriced trinkets and I peruse the glittery displays with discerning eyes. Back on the bus, I try to be kind when Agnus shows me her purchases and asks my opinion. We still have an hour drive to the pyramids and we pass though miles of marginal houses, stacked and crammed together precariously on the out-skirting hillsides of Mexico City. The blocks of house are painted one of 9 different colors depending on the political loyalty. Apparently the politicians gift paint in exchange for pledges and the hillsides are paved a rainbow of colors; purple, yellow, salmon, green, turquoise, blue, orange and red.
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| The outskirts of Mexico City |
We finally arrive at the pyramids at 12:30 and our guide explains the site (presumably eloquently in Spanish but with a minimal English translation.) We have 2.5 hours to explore the site. Art and I head first for the smaller of the two Pyramids, the Pyramid of the Moon and in spite of my injured knee, I manage to climb it, crab like, using only the muscles in my left leg and hoisting myself step by step using the cable hand rail secured from bottom to top along the steep stone staircase. My right knee is still too painful to bend but using different muscles, I scale this pyramid and am just slightly out of breath when I reach the top. There are of course fabulous views from this terrace which is actually not the top but as far as visitors are allowed to climb. A hundred awed tourists mill on this level with no barriers to prevent one from tumbling to ones’ death below. Everyone is taking selfies and we ask a German man to take a photo of us and return the favor. The entire city stretches below with the Pyramid of the Sun in the distance.
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| View of Teotihuacan from the Pyramid of the Moon |
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| The approach to the Pyramid of the Moon |
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| Pyramid of the Moon |
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| Cable hand rail |
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| Terrace of the Pyramid of the Moon |
We descend and walk the long promenade between the Pyramid of the Moon and the Pyramid of the Sun. Ordinarily, I would climb to the Sun and back but find a sliver of a shade below an ancient stone wall and wait while Art sets out to conquer this Pyramid. He is gone nearly an hour and I catch sight of him once or twice. His white shirt, floppy hat and shorts make him easy to spot even among the crowds upon the monumental pyramid.
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| Teotihuacan Pyramid of the Sun |
Later, Art tells me that he tried to call me from the top but since I was hunkered down below a wall, there was no reception. At the appointed 3:00 P.M. we meet at the bus to go to lunch. Famished, most of the tour chooses immediate gratification at the buffet but this one looks awful and I dislike buffets in general. We have befriended two young Seattle women and one of them wishes to order from the menu so the two of us wait in solidarity for our meals. The stuffed chicken breast that choose arrives in time and is surprisingly good. I wash it down with a beer and we are off to the tequila tasting factory. This is the second non disclosed stop on our itinerary and is another tourist trap but I am mildly interested in the methods of harvesting the Agave nectar and we gladly accept the tastings of various tequilas.
On our return we stop at the Basilica of Guadalupe. Our guide explains that nearly as many pilgrims visit here as the Vatican in Rome. Again the Spanish and English explanation are vastly different in length but my understanding is that the original Guadalupe Cathedral has sunk along with the city and stands askew in the plaza.
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| New Basilica of Guadalupe |
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| Exterior of the basilica |
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| Alter of the modern Basilica of Guadalupe |
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| Interior of the modern basilica |
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| The sinking Basilica of Guadalupe |
A newer modern round basilica, built in 1974 is the one that we tour. Prior to entering, I hope for a Sagrada Familia experience but although the basilica is beautiful, I am not spiritually awed. Art and I wander the vast plaza between the ancient Cathedral and the modern Basilica with views of the volcanos and the sleeping lady in the distance. As a geologists’ daughter, I picture Mexico City sinking into this lake valley and surrounded by volcanic mountains. As we exit, Art lights a candle and I know it is for his mother.
30 minutes later, we are the first to be dropped off at our hotel. Without a plan, we wander the nearby shopping promenade in search of dinner. We have still not grasped how inexpensive food is or perhaps how strong our dollar is so we are price shopping the menus and settle on what looks like a promising patio restaurant. The Caesar salad dressing is rancid and the pasta Art orders is mushy and inedible. I am desperate to save the evening and suggest drinks on the terrace of Gran Hotel Ciudad de Mexico. Having drinks at this hotel is on my Mexico City bucket list and is the opposite extreme from where we just ate dinner. Parts of the 2015 James Bond movie, Spectre were filmed in Mexico City and at this iconic hotel. These next few sentences are in honor of Nancie Allie who always told me to hold my head up high and act like I own the place.
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| Interior of the Gran Hotel, Mexico City |
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| Interior of the Gran Hotel |
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| View from the Gran Hotel |
We arrive at the relatively unpretentious entrance to the hotel. The doors are opened as we step close and we are welcomed into an architectural Art Nouveau masterpiece. Soaring ceilings of ribbed glass crown the vast foyer. I wish for daylight so that the stained glass would show its’ vibrant colors but there is something magical about the structural skeletal ribs of steel against the night sky. There is no one in the cavernous lobby and we approach the front desk and announce our intentions to have drinks on their terrace. It may be my imagination that they appraise us dubiously but they point us to the elevators and we ascend to the top floor. With heads held high we approach a kiosk attended by a lone women and request to have drinks on their terrace. She records our name, peruses the seating chart and motions us to sit and wait. We sit obediently and within two minutes are ushered up another flight of stairs to a table overlooking the Zocalo and the illuminated Cathedral beyond. I realize that this is the same view we have enjoyed for the past three days at our hotel but minus one star. The Zocalo shines and the cathedral glitters and my heart flutters slightly as I look at the drink prices on the menu. Pesos seem so much more because of the extra zeros but in actuality the drink prices are no more than at a good California restaurant. Art orders a margarita and I order a glass of wine and once we relax into our drinks; as the American Express advertisement says, the experience is priceless and less than $30 including a generous tip.
