More Mexican Muralists

Friday, February 22

Although I want to visit the Ciudad Universitaria which has numerous murals and mosaics created by “The Three Greats;” Diego, Orozco and Siqueiros, Art vetoes that idea. The University is a city in itself and the art pieces we want to see are scattered over miles of campus.  330,000 students attend the university. We decide on a less ambitious day and after another inspiring view breakfast at our hotel, we set off to find the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso. This hidden gem, a Jesuit monastery and an example of Colonial architecture is a few streets behind the Zocolo and has some wonderful murals by the ‘Three Greats’ and others. I am struck by a mural of Cortez with his indigenous mistress and the luminous stained glass in the stairwell.

Marty at Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso
Cortez and his indigenous mistress – Orozco
Jose Clemente Orozco
Detail of Orozco mural

I regret I cannot match all of the murals with their corresponding artists but I imagine that Maurice Sendak was inspired by these murals because his ‘Wild Thing’ monster character looks nearly identical to a creature in one of the murals. The downstairs theatre is closed but fortunately, musicians are wrapping up a rehearsal and we are able to slip inside. We are cautioned not to take photographs but we get a firsthand glimpse of Diego’s early mural, Creation, strikingly illuminated by the lights of the stage.

Just around the corner from our hotel is the Cathedral Café where we have been meaning to dine but because it closes at 3:00 P.M. our timing has been off until today. (This restaurant is on the “foodie” list.)   We enter the unassuming ground floor bakery and goat cheese shop to discover that there are two floors above. A stylish woman juggling seating charts and a microphone takes our names and within minutes she points us to an elevator and we ascend to the third floor and emerge into an elegant and light filled dining room.

View through the elevator door
A salad art piece

Art and I always share so we orchestrate our order so we can taste a variety of dishes. The salad we order is both delicious and an art piece and we order two different types of enchiladas. (We are not disappointed.)

This is our last full day and we are still ticking Diego Rivera murals off our must see list. We walk to Mueso Mural Diego Rivera, one that we overlooked a few days ago. It is home to one of his most famous murals, Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central Park. The museum is just one room, showcasing this panoramic mural and we spend our time resting on the gallery bench and identifying the characters portrayed in the mural.

Dream of a Sunday Afternoon…
Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central Park
Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central Park
Photos of Diego Rivera

After a week of intense site seeing, Art and I are tired and sated but I feel I will regret not picking up a few souvenir gifts. I peruse the guide book and map and discover we are near the local craft market. Art humors me and we walk many more blocks in search of the permanent market that engulfs many blocks. We enter a warren of stalls, each one selling identical merchandise and Art is surprisingly patient as I try on several blouses in the hopes of transforming myself into a young Frida Kahlo. Alas, the blocky cuts are unflattering and I am soon disheartened, but had we not come here, I would have felt that I had missed something.  We UBER back to our hotel, rest a short while and head out for an early dinner at Restaurant Mumedi on Avenue Francisco in the heart of the trendy shopping district. Mumedi has good reviews but turns out to be more like a museum bookshop cafeteria than a restaurant. Although the food is good and stylish, they don’t serve any alcohol and we miss sipping wine with our meals. After dinner, we peruse the gift shop but overall I am disappointed with our dinner choice on our last night out.

We wander from dinner to an upscale bar with fashionable drinks but the music is loud and unlike us, the crowd is young and gearing up for their Friday night. Still not ready to give up on a last night Mexico City fling, we walk from the tourist district and choose a local cantina where we sit and people watch over a mediocre drink before strolling back to our hotel and sinking into bed.

Saturday, February 23rd  Homeward Bound

I’ve coordinated our separate flights back ‘home’ so that Art and I are able to enjoy a leisurely morning together. We forgo our hotel breakfast and walk around the corner to the Cathedral Café.
Yesterdays’ lunch was stellar and we want to sample their extravagant yet affordable breakfast (affordable by California standards.) Art has his shoes shined on the way and by the time we arrive at the restaurant there is a 30 minuet wait.

Art having his shoes shined
Waiting for a table

We put our names on the list, return quickly to our hotel to pack and are back at the restaurant just in time for our names to be called. We ride the elevator up to the first floor and are seated. A waiter immediately appears wielding a silvery pot of coffee and a white ceramic pitcher of Mexican hot chocolate. Having read the rave reviews over the hot chocolate, I throw cation aside and watch as the waiter froths the thick and creamy concoction. Another waiter discretely slides pastries onto our plates and we inhale the calories and the old world ambiance.  After the cholesterol high hot chocolate, I order an egg white, goat cheese and poblano pepper omelet, not because of its health attributes but because it sounds delicious. Art orders an omelet wrapped in squash blossoms and both our breakfasts are amazing.

Squash blossom omelet at the Cathedral Cafe
Egg white and pepper omelet

We fast walk off some of the calories to have a repeat look at the Diego Rivera Murals at the National Palace. There is no line at the palace and we are able to spend another 30 minutes admiring the murals.

A last look at the Diego Rivera Murals at the National Palace

The reality of time dawns on us and we call for an UBER and are soon our way to the airport. Our two different flights depart 20 minutes apart from different airline terminals. All goes seamlessly.  Art’s return flight to San Jose del Cabo is an easy two hours. My return flight to California is a bit more painful involving two flights and a 4 hour layover in LAX. I arrive back in San Jose by 9:00 P.M. and am pulling in my driveway before midnight.

Taking off over Mexico City – 21 million population!

Mexican Muralists and Xochimilico

Wednesday, February 20th, 
In spite of the dramatic terrace view of the Zocolo, our hotel breakfast is starting to get old. I am not complaining because I can’t imagine wanting more than what is offered and I serve myself fresh papaya and pineapple, two pieces of bacon, steamed cauliflower and broccoli and a tiny fresh baked croissant. We seat ourselves and the waiter takes our coffee order; a cappuccino for me and a double espresso for Art. Our waiter asks if we would like something from the kitchen and I order a one egg omelet with mushrooms and cheese. I am more than sated when we leave and well fueled for another full day of museums. 
We start with the museums within the National Palace, just steps away from our hotel. We arrive at 9:30 A.M. but entrance to the Diego Rivera murals doesn’t open until 10:00 A.M. We poke into several other nearby museums. A political cartoon exhibition is both interesting and amusing with satirical cartoons of Donald Trump, Kim Jong-un and Netanyahu.

Trump and Kim Jong-up 
Michel Michka Political Cartoonist

 When we exit the line for the Diego Rivera mural is long so we head to the art gallery across the narrow street. We have this free museum to ourselves and motion lights switch on as we enter each gallery. There is a guard within each gallery and Art comments that it must be a government work program to keep people employed. Again when we exit the line for the Diego Rivera mural is still long so we walk in the direction of the Palacio Bella Arts in search the Franz Meyer Decorative Arts museum. It is tucked inside an unimpressive courtyard but the temporary Neo-Baroque exhibit is excellent and leaves us wanting more.  

Exterior of the Franz Meyer Museum
Exhibit, Franz Meyer Museum






















Exhibit, Franz Meyer Museum

Most of the national museums are free and as seniors, the private museums offer discounted admission for seniors. I feel like a senior today with my legs still burning from pyramid climbing and my injured knee. Art steps into the men’s restroom and I rest on a bench nearby to wait. Suddenly two pretty young women wearing stylish museum uniforms with knee length skirts and high heels approach me and motion me to come with them quickly. I recognize the word “drill” and “not to worry” but they are insistent that I follow them outside to a breezeway and into a covered parking garage. I fumble for the word “esposo” and point to the restroom worried that Art will think that I have been abducted. A large dot with 4 arrows is painted on the garage pavement and they position me on the center dot as two dozen others are escorted to the “safety zone.” Gratefully, Art is among the others being corralled and within a few minutes the drill is over and we return to the museum.  

Safety drill at the Franz Meyer Museum
The safest spot!


Since our taxi driver to the Condessa passed us counterfeit money, we have been enjoying the magic of Uber. Art enters our next destination as the Museo Tamayo and within minutes our Uber magically arrives to transport us to the park bordering the museum. We head straight for the museum café and Art orders the salmon and I order succulently marinated duck tacos. As usual, we share. The modern architecture of the museum is striking and the main exhibit is work by German Venegas. I try to find merit in his work but it’s a struggle.  This is the Tamayo Museum but there are only a few paintings by him. The modern art museum across the park and is excellent and we spend two hours wandering the four wings. Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, David Siqueiros and Ricardo Martinez are just a few of the artists represented here.

German Venegas
German Venegas
Paintings by Diego Rivera

Frida Kahlo 
David Alfaro Siqueiros

We decide to give the Opera Café a second chance for dinner tonight. The interior could be out of a movie set and their claim to fame seems to be that Poncho Villa rode into it on horseback and shot bullet holes in the ceiling.  We watch nearly every customer crane their necks scanning for bullet holes on the baroque ceiling. The ornate carved wood and mirrored antique bar stretches the length of one wall.  We enjoy tonight’s dinner but much might be attributed to the liter of fruit filled Sangria that Art orders expecting me to share it. It tastes like fruit punch poured over fruit cocktail and I order red wine.  We linger some time listening to the mariachi music and enjoying the old world ambience and each other’s company. Although the food is good, we are getting tired of Mexican fare and take two of my four Chile Verde enchiladas to go with the intention of passing them to one of the many less fortunate who ask for a few pesos. We are less than a block away when a man approaches indicating that he is hungry and we hand him the well wrapped to go box and then worry that we have forgotten to ask the restaurant for silverware.

Opera Cafe
Thursday, February 21st,
We are looking forward to the day and have the perfect start at the National Palace. Yesterday the line for entry to the Diego Rivera Murals was long and we decided to try another day but this morning we arrive at 9:50 and there are only 30 people waiting.  We chat with a couple of Chinese American tourists who are foodies and reside in Albuquerque New Mexico.  They share foodie tips with us and their tips will influence our next couple of days. Entry to the National Palace is free but one must show ID and go through a security check. Security holds Art’s ID and we hurry into the palatial courtyard and towards the staircase with the murals. The Diego Rivera murals are impressive and we take our time trying to understand the historical characters and time periods of the various murals.

Diego Rivera Mural – The History of Mexico at the National Palace
Diego Rivera Murals – The National Palace
Diego Rivera Mural

Diego Rivera Mural – The Grand Tenochtitlan at the National Palace

There is a small gallery off the upstairs courtyard balcony with a few choice works from the period. We wish that we could spend more time here overall but we have an 11:30 A.M. entry to the Frida Kahlo Museum so we tear ourselves away and fast walk back to our hotel where Art calls for an UBER and within minutes we are magically transported to the Coyoacan district and to Frida’s Blue house. Although this is nothing like the Anne Frank House, the hype feels the same. One must purchase tickets in advance or suffer a 2-3 hour wait in line. The timed ticket line wraps around the corner and we insert ourselves time appropriately into the line. 20 minutes later we are granted entry and emerge into the lush courtyard of Frida’s Blue House. Initially, Art and I are unimpressed but we soon navigate towards a few rooms displaying Frida’s wardrobe, recently discovered and on display.  Art whispers to me that I already dress like Frida and I feel flattered and vow to do a better job of putting myself together. This was her home and painting studio. Her wheelchair sits in a light filled second floor room beside an easel along with an array of paints and brushes. I am gaining a new appreciation for her work. Prior to this visit, it was Diego who I most admired but her prolific work on display in various small gallery rooms are moving and impressive.  I am voraciously taking pictures when a guard stops me and inquires if I have a “photo permission sticker?” I tuck my phone away but return to the entrance to purchase a 30 peso sticker and I return to take photos. 

Courtyard
Line to enter Frida’s Blue House Museum

Frida’s wardrobe on display
Frida’s wardrobe on display

Marty beside a photograph of Frida
Title- Marxism will give health to the sick

‘

Frida’s painting studio
Frida’s easel, wheelchair and paints

Hungry, Art map quests a local restaurant just a few blocks away. The restaurant is packed with locals and offers only set lunch menus for 85 pesos or about $6.00 each. The waitress brings us a large pitcher of Jamaica juice and gives us a form and pencil. We are to write down our choices from the set menu. Art pencils in our order and minutes later soups and salads arrive followed shortly by two different styles of taquitos. A strange dessert completes the ample meal and we ask to take the leftovers to go. Within minutes of leaving the restaurant, we pass the box off to a young man motioning to his belly in what we presume is a request for money or food. 

Prix Fix Menu
Restaurant Terminal


The day has been perfect so far but I insist that we go from here to Xochimilico, the floating gardens where we will take a gondola boat along the canals. Art is not much interested but I am insistent. We take another UBER and are deposited at the boat dock. It is after 3:00 P.M. and the guide book tells us that the boats are 500 pesos an hour regardless of how many people are onboard and that we should find another party to share the boat. The boat launch is virtually empty except for a row of colorful boats and many bored gondola pole pushers and their “pimp.” We immediately run into a problem.

Xochimilico Gondolas
Xochimilico Goose

There is one boat master in charge of filling the vacant boats and he sees Art and me walk in alone. We scan the boat launch for other passengers who we might join and there are none. The gondolas hold over 20 passengers each and it is not so much a matter of economics as it is of pleasure. We would rather enjoy this boat trip with company. Art spots a Hispanic family and approaches them. In Art’s best Spanish he asks if they might like to share a boat?  Eddie, a man in his mid 40’s who speaks perfect English is from Guatemala and he is delighted with the prospect of us joining his family of four. We will share the expense and bring along some beer. I scurry off to try to find both beer and a bottle of wine in anticipation of a delightful cruise along the canals with new and interesting friends. The dock side concessions have no wine but I buy beer plus a couple of canned mixed alcoholic drinks and return to our Guatemala friends only to find that the dock master will not allow us to share their boat because we are not a part of their family. We offer to pay full price to join their boat but he will not budge on his policy. Another larger group of Canadians and Americans have arrived and we try to piggy back with them. The dock master “Pimp” stands his ground and it is not until the woman who has pre- arranged their trip for 15 people calls the travel agent that we are allowed to join their group but we must pay the $750 pesos additional for the hour and a half boat ride. Art thrusts the money at the dock master and we board the gondola with this large family wedding party.

We share the gondola with a wedding party
Our gondola poler

Local boatman
Canals

















Initially, we enjoy the company of this multi-cultural family until one member, an American bore, purposely moves himself to our end of the gondola table and decides to make Art and me his best friends. I surmise that the rest of his family is relieved that we have now taken on the burden of entertaining him and I watch Art visibly withdraw as the man spouts on and on. Although this experience might be fun with a group of likeminded friends, we spend an uncomfortable hour and a half simply wanting the trip to end.

The return UBER ride back to our hotel takes about an hour.  At about 7:00 P.M. we dress and decide to to walk to restaurant Limosneros, recommended by the couple we met waiting in line for the National Palace.  I tell Art we have little chance of getting a table but it is before 8:00 P.M. when we arrive and we are fortunate to be seated. The range of our meals in Mexico City has been all over the place and its’ time for us to enjoy a good meal. I suggest that Art orders the 7 course Prix Fix dinner along with wine pairing. I will order the sea bass entree and he can pass me tastes of his various courses. Although some of his courses are stellar, several are quite ordinary and even my sea bass is not exceptional. (We do not order the Pueblo beetle or ant egg appetizers.) We have an enjoyable evening and our bill with drinks and tip is less than $120 U.S. dollars. These meals with wine parings would have cost over $300 in California. 

Limosneros Restaurant
A fungi course




Limosneros Restaurant
Pueblo beetle and ant egg appetizers


World Class Art Museums

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

I wake up to my legs burning with every step. Scaling the Pyramid of the Moon may not have been a wise idea. My thigh muscles that have taken up the slack for my left knee are now screaming.

We know that the Frida Kahlo museum requires timed tickets and we ask our concierge to book us a time slot. My credit cards are in the hotel safe and Art passes the women his business credit card which is declined. She graciously tells us that it is certainly because we have neglected to tell our credit card company that we are traveling in Mexico. Our bill is paid and I believe this to be the case but she handles our embarrassment in the same manner that I handle declined credit cards from customers at shows. I tell my customers whose payments are declined that it is probably because they have purchased other items at the Art Show and the various artists are from all over the country. The credit card company sees charges from various cities and states and blocks the card for their own protection. She offers to use her credit card if we pay her the cash and we accept her kind offer and leave with printed tickets for Thursday at 11:30 A.M. Although Art is unconcerned about the credit card, I am worried since many of our automatic business expenses are tied to it and I don’t want there to be issues back at home. I call Alisha and tell her to test our two business credit cards by purchasing Endicia shipping. She texts back that all is good and Art and I walk several blocks to find an Scocia Bank ATM. A week ago, I gave Alisha a check to deposit into Art’s account so that we would have access to cash on this trip. Art makes a withdrawal and tells me there is no record of the deposit. This is not a good money morning and I call Alisha again. She sorts it out and discovers that the teller who made the deposit put the money back into our personal account, not into Art’s account. The bank manager remembers me mentioning our trip to Mexico and transfers the missing deposit into Art’s account. (I’m pretty sure that her doing so was not really acceptable on just a hearsay from Alisha, but we are grateful.)

We hope to join a FREE 10:30 A.M. walking tour of the city center and I fast limp to the meeting place in front of the Cathedral. It is not a great tour but we need some structure to our morning and to take our minds off the finance glitches. The free walking tour takes us to the Templo Mayor, at the far side of the Zocalo. This was the site of the Aztec City, the heart of Tenochtitlan and is partially excavated and restored. Our small group visits the sinking cathedral before walking along Cinco de Mayo Avenue and listening to our guide point out spots of interest. It’s not a great walking trip and at 12:30, we are relieved to be set free. At our guides suggestion we have an inexpensive lunch at a Taqueria with a young, Dutch/German man who arrived this morning and will be in Mexico for 2 months writing his Master’s thesis. His company is interesting enough but we part ways after lunch and retrace our steps to the Palacio de Bella Arts to see the museum.

Palacio Bella Arts
Palacio Bella Arts
Siqueiros 

The Art Deco interior of the building is fabulous but unfortunately all the galleries are closed or possibly being renovated (this is not entirely clear.)  We glide along the polished marble floors, our necks craned to admire the soaring Art Deco architecture. Murals by Diego Rivera, David Siqueiros and Jorge Gonzalez Camarena decorate the first floor balcony walls. Seeing the Diego Rivera murals feels like visiting a familiar friend but it is exciting to see the work of Siqueiros and Camarena.

Man, Controller of the Universe or Man in the Time Machine, Diego Rivera
Camarena
Camarena signature

Downstairs, there is a retrospective of Ricardo Martinez work, an artist I had not heard of and Art and I thoroughly enjoyed the show.

Ricardo Martinez de Hoyos
Ricardo Martinez de Hoyos
Ricardo Martinez de Hoyos

Before leaving, we have a drink in the Art Deco museum dining room. Well-heeled patrons sit savoring beautiful meals and I wish that we had chosen here for lunch instead of the taqueria. We walk back along the shopping promenade to our hotel and rest until 6:00 P.M. Our meals over that past few days have been awful and I read the guidebook carefully. Our restaurant of choice tonight will be the Hosteria de Santa Domingo, an upscale old world Mexican restaurant a few blocks away from the tourist and shopping area.

Hosteria de Santa Dominga Restaurant
Chiles en Nogada
The Prawn speciality

I order their specialty; Chiles en Nogada, stuffed peppers with minced fruit and meat filling that are smothered in a sweet walnut based white cream sauce and topped with pomegranate. This interesting dish is traditionally served at room temperature. Art orders House prawns wrapped in Bacon and stuffed with Manchego cheese.  Both meals are excellent although I doubt if I will ever choose to order Chiles en Nogada again.  A mediocre pianist and vocalist provide background entertainment and get little applause.  The service in this old world restaurant is a mixture of arrogant and accommodating and we pay the rather expensive bill (over 1000 pesos with tip) and return to our hotel overly full. I’m glad we had the experience but I don’t need to repeat it.

Wednesday, February 20th,

In spite of the dramatic terrace view of the Zocolo, our hotel breakfast is starting to get old. I am not complaining because I can’t imagine wanting more than what they offer and I repeat the past several mornings self serve plate of fresh papaya and pineapple, two pieces of bacon, steamed cauliflower and broccoli and a tiny fresh baked croissant. We seat ourselves and the waiter takes our coffee order; a cappuccino for me and a double espresso for Art. Our waiter asks if we would like something from the kitchen and I order a one egg omelet with mushrooms and cheese. I am more than sated when we leave, looking forward to another full day of museums.

We start with the museums within the National Palace, just steps away from our hotel. We arrive at 9:30 A.M. but the Diego Rivera mural isn’t open until 10:00 A.M. so we enjoy poking into several other adjoining venues. A political cartoon exhibition is both interesting and amusing with satirical cartoons of Donald Trump, Kim John-un and Netanyahu. When we exit the line for the Diego Rivera mural is long so we head to the art gallery across the narrow street. We have this free museum to ourselves and motion lights switch on as we enter each gallery. There is a guard within each gallery and Art comments that it must be a government work program to keep people employed. Again when we exit the line for the Diego Rivera mural is still long so we walk in the direction of the Palacio Bella Arts in search the Franz Meyer Decorative Arts museum. It is tucked down in an unimpressive courtyard but the temporary Neo-Baroque exhibit is excellent and leaves us wanting more.  Most of the national museums are free and as seniors, the private museums offer discounted admission for seniors. I feel like a senior today with my legs still sore from pyramid climbing and my injured knee. Art steps into the men’s restroom and I rest on a bench nearby to wait. Suddenly two pretty young women wearing dark museum uniforms with knee length skirts and high heels approach me and motion me to come with them quickly. I recognize the word “drill” and “not to worry” but they are insistent that I follow them outside to a breezeway and into a covered parking garage. I fumble for the word “esposo” and point to the restroom worried that Art will think that I have been abducted. A large dot with 4 arrows is painted on the garage pavement and they position me on the center dot as two dozen others are escorted to the “safety zone.” Gratefully, Art is among the others being corralled and within a few minutes the drill is over and we return to the museum.

Since our taxi driver to the Condessa passed us counterfeit money, we have been enjoying the magic of Uber. Art enters our next destination as the Museo Tamayo and within minutes our Uber magically arrives to transport us to the park bordering the museum. We head straight for the museum café and Art orders the salmon and I order succulently marinated duck tacos. As usual, we share. The modern architecture of the museum is striking and the main exhibit is work by German Venegas. I try to find merit in his work but it’s a struggle.  This is the Tamayo Museum but there are only a few paintings by him. The modern art museum is across the park and it is excellent and we spend two hours wandering the four wings. Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, David Siqueiros, Ricardo Martinez are just a few of the artists represented here.

We decide to give the Opera Café a second chance for dinner tonight. The interior could be out of a movie set and their claim to fame seems to be that Poncho Villa rode into it on horseback and shot bullet holes in the ceiling.  We watch nearly every customer crane their necks scanning for bullet holes on the baroque ceiling. The ornate carved wood and mirrored antique bar stretches the length of one wall.  We enjoy tonight’s dinner but much might be attributed to the liter of fruit filled Sangrias that Art orders expecting me to share it. It tastes like fruit punch poured over fruit cocktail and I order red wine.  We linger some time listening to the mariachi music and enjoying the old world ambience and each other’s company. Although the food is good, we are getting tired of Mexican fare and take two of my four Chile Verde enchiladas to go with the intention of passing them to one of the many less fortunate who ask for a few pesos. We are less than a block away when a man approaches indicating that he is hungry and we hand him the well wrapped to go box and then worry that we have forgotten to ask the restaurant for silverware.

Pyramid of the Sun and Moon and James Bond

Monday, February 18th, 2019

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.

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.

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.

View of Teotihuacan from the Pyramid of the Moon

The approach to the Pyramid of the Moon
Pyramid of the Moon
Cable hand rail

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.

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.

New Basilica of Guadalupe
Exterior of the basilica

Alter of the modern Basilica of Guadalupe
Interior of the modern basilica

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.

Interior of the Gran Hotel, Mexico City
Interior of the Gran Hotel
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.

Archaeological Mesoamerica and Counterfeit Pesos

Saturday, February 16, 2019


Although Art and I feel at home in Baja, we haven’t ventured further afield to mainland Mexico. Although there is much to do to shut down our Zacatitos Casita for a week, the morning cleanup and departure is easy and at 10:30 A.M. we are speeding along the two lane ribbon asphalt highway towards the San Jose Del Cabo airport. Although Art will return in a week, I will fly directly from Mexico City back to San Jose California, so I say goodbye to our beautiful desert and our beloved “Witch Tit” mountains that jut perkily against the flawless blue horizon.

Zacatitos Mountains

Art parks our 4 Runner at the long term Anchor parking; $25 for the week and they provide a taxi pick up to take us the short drive to domestic terminal one. I am always anxious that I have somehow made a mistake in reservations but the check in process is seamless and we breeze through security with our carryon luggage and are soon swallowed into the rear of the immense Interjet plane. We read the Mexico City Lonely Planet guidebook, planning our week itinerary and the flight passes quickly. Mexico City is at 7,300 feet, built on a now mostly receded lake bed and surrounded by volcanic mountains so the pollution from this city of 22 million is trapped in the basin. We descend into a blanket of yellow brown smog.

Taxi fares are regulated and we buy a 220 peso ticket to the Zocalo, about $12. Even on a Saturday afternoon, the traffic is terrible as we get near to the Zocalo and the estimated 20 minute trip takes 40 minutes. Our hotel Central Zocalo is on Avenue Cinco Del Mayo, just steps away from the imposing Zocalo. We decline offers of drinks or coffee at check in and head straight to our room to freshen up and prepare to explore the neighborhood. Our room is small but pretty with charcoal grey walls and a white coved ceiling. A modern built in desk spans the end of the room with a window overlooking the street below.

View from the Zocalo Central Hotel restaurant
Our room at Zocalo Central












We take advantage of the services of Hotels Concierge and ask where we might find a Café. It is 5:00 P.M. and we have missed lunch but is still too early for dinner. She suggests the Café Du Tacuba, three blocks down the street and although not what we expected, we are delighted with its old world ambience. Azulejos tiles decorated the walls and chiaroscuro paintings hang in this old world restaurant. Uniform waitresses with frilly lace bonnets hurry about laden with trays of food and drink.  I ask Art if it reminds him of anything and he tells me the Belen Café in Lisbon and I laugh and acknowledge that was my exact thought. Although the two café/restaurants look nothing alike, the period tiles and costumed waitresses lend a similar ambience. We are fortunate to be seated immediately because before long there is a crowd of hopeful and hungry patrons waiting for a table. The long dining room several side alcoves and an upstairs dining area swallow the crowds of waiting patrons.  We order drinks and an authentic Mexican appetizer platter for two and we enjoy people watching as we wait for our food. The samplings on the platter are melt in your mouth delicious; empanadas stuffed with homemade cheeses and tamales and shredded chicken tostados with ample guacamole and flavorful salsas to dress it all with. There is too much and we leave much of the platter untouched.

Cafe du Tacuba
Street view of Cafe du Tacuba
Art, Cafe du Tacuba















On a side street just cross the street from the restaurant a band is playing dance music. Art and I dance one awkward dance wearing our backpacks and wish that we could stash them aside safely.  We wander the wide shopping promenade packed with Saturday night crowds. Streets performers are on every corner, many dressed in ridiculous Hollywood costumes. Children frantically strum worn guitars and flower and candy sellers vie for the infrequent peso to be tossed their way. Families and lovers stroll the promenade enjoying the mild warm evening. Art and I search for a cozy bar to sit for a drink but the few that we enter are thrumming with deafening music and we eventually settle at an outside restaurant table, continue watching the street action and sip mediocre drinks. After our late meal at Café du Tacuba, we want just a light bite before bed.

Opera Cafe

We choose the Opera Café for its old world ambience (and the soccer game playing on its T.V. screen.)  An ornate wooden bar stretches across one of the walls and the baroque and gilded ceiling make it look like part of a movie set. A woman at an adjoining table is drinking what looks like a fruity Sangria from a bowl shaped glass. Instead of pointing to her drink, Art orders what he presumes is the same off the menu and is disappointed when the drink served him is not what the woman is drinking. We share a Caesar salad and return to hotel exhausted.

Sunday, February 17th, 2019

We enjoy the first breakfast in our hotel’s 6th floor restaurant with a terrace view overlooking the Cathedral and the Zocalo. The view is stunning and the morning sun streams into the elegant dining room.  We graze the ample buffet, order coffee and enjoy the view of the Cathedral and Zocalo below.

Archaeological Museum
Fountain in the center courtyard
Window detail of the museum 

We take a taxi to the Archaeological Museum in preparation for our visit to the Pyramids of Teotihuacan tomorrow. It is a world class museum and we spend the entire day immersed in the various Mesoamerican cultures. The museum is beautifully curated and clearly delineated into eight Mesoamerican periods and cultures. Here is the link to a great U-tube video explaining the time frame for these civilizations. The intensity of the museum demands that we take a couple of breaks and we enjoy both a late morning coffee break and a lovely late lunch at the museum café.  (I am especially fascinated with the various serpent sculptures.)

Serpent head sculpture
Serpent sculpture

Marty with coiled serpent sculpture
Carved sacrificial platform

Feathered serpent
Coiled serpent sculpture

The Taxi and Counterfeit Money Saga:

We close the museum down and at 5:00 P.M. sit outside on a shady cement bench and plan our evening. We are not far from La Condesa District and decide to take a taxi there. We seldom take taxis but because of my injured knee and that our hotel concierge has told us that bus transit cards are no longer available we walk towards the ring of taxis. They circle like vultures and the driver first in line snatches us greedily and tells us it will be 120 – 150 pesos for the short ride to La Condesa. He turns on his meter and ten minutes later, deposits us on a tree lined street in the Condesa. The meter reads just over 180 pesos (not quite $10) and Art hands him a 200 Peso bill. The driver quickly hands it back pointing out that it is torn on the edge and asks for another bill. Art opens his wallet and hands him a second 200 peso note. It is missing a tiny piece of its corner and the driver returns it and points to a 500 Peso bill in Art’s open wallet. Thoroughly confused Art accepts the second 200 Peso bill back and hands him the 500 peso note. The driver now seems confused as if he is having difficulty making change; chortles, shrugs and returns the 500 peso note to Art requesting another 200 peso note. We are still sitting in the back seat of the taxi and I watch Art’s open wallet carefully and the proper number of bills have seemingly been returned. Art adds a small coin as a tip and we exit the cab checking that we have all of our belongings. Shall I tell you what has unfolded now or first make you suffer through reading about our evening spent in La Condesa? As we exit the taxi, Art comments on the weird exchange but not wanting to pull out his wallet on the street, it is not until we return to our hotel later that what has transpired becomes clear. Back at the hotel, Art suspicion of being passed counterfeit money is verified. We have some cash in our room safe and compare both a genuine 200 and 500 Peso bill with the bills now in Art’s wallet. On two of the new wallet bills the images are noticeably darker, lack iridescence and the bills themselves are slightly smaller. It is likely that the taxi driver switched yet another counterfeit 200 Peso bill on us but if that was the case, we passed it unwittingly to a bar tender for two of the worst drinks on the planet. Art is beating himself up and I am mildly amused. At the most, the scam cost us $50 so it was an inexpensive lesson learned. Our good friends recently returned from Mexico City with a counterfeit money saga where they exchanged a considerable amount of money and received counterfeit bills.


Counterfeit or Genuine?

Flash Back to Our La Condesa Evening:

It is close to 6:00 P.M. on a Sunday evening when our taxi deposits us in La Condesa district. We have no clear map of the area so we wander aimlessly in one direction and then another until we come to a street lined with restaurants. In our usual dysfunctional manner, we read every menu in the area and out of exhaustion eventually choose a hole in the wall bar to sit for a drink. My knee is throbbing but Art casts a winning smile at me and I agreeably succumb to his wishes. This dingy bar has little appeal except that it is showing a MMA game on its T.V. (Art’s preference, over main stream sports.) The drinks are half the price of everywhere else in this trendy district and although we are no longer struggling pack packers I hoist myself upon the bar stool in hopes of a decent drink. The are no other customers and I foolishly order a cosmopolitan and Art orders a margarita. Our drinks are generous but AWFUL and we leave our half-finished drinks, pay our minimal bill (possibly with counterfeit money) and continue our search for dinner.  Although our dinner is decent, it is not memorable although it may be to the waiter, if we paid with counterfeit money?

Dia De Los Muertos

The Day of the Dead is a two day celebration occurring the first two days of November. It is a celebration of both life and death when families commemorate their deceased loved ones. Families construct altars to the departed and make appropriate offerings to encourage their spirits to return home and hear their prayers.  Sweets and toys are offered to deceased children and alcohol, cigarettes and other personal offerings to departed adults.

Altar for Anthony Bourdain
Cempaspuchitl or Marigold flowers are most commonly used to adorn the alters. They bloom at the end of the rainy season just prior to the Day of the Dead and flowers symbolize the impermanence of life. Candles and sugar skulls, with the names of the deceased written on the forehead, decorate most alters. 

Entertainers dressed as Calacas (Skeletons)
Entertainers dressed as Calacas (Skeletons)






















Each year, Flora Farms, tucked in a fertile valley just East of San Jose Del Cabo hosts a remarkable Day of the Dead Alter Competition that benefits many local charities.  It’s a colorful and upscale celebration that we attended with friends and look forward to every year. 

Gathering with friends to celebrate Dia de los Muertos
Friends visiting from California
Marty and Nancy Pinter


















The proceeds from this altar fund a dance program for local kids at risk

An elegant altar honoring Coco Chanel

The $25 ticket price goes to the charities and includes a glass of wine and an elaborate and plentiful appetizer buffet.

Grilled meat and vegetable skewers
Appetizers galore

Colorful entertainment and traditional music
Stilt-walkers

















Glowing large than life puppets.


Five judges choose the winning alters based on the most traditional, the most original and the best mix of both. 

The Real Alcazar Palace and Flamenco

Saturday, June 30th – The Real Alcazar Palace and Flamenco
We enjoy a wonderful breakfast at our hotel’s roof top café bar. Art is able to get a soy latte and I order a cappuccino. Breakfast is an array of freshly squeezed orange juice, buttery croissants, tiny sweet pastries plus bite size quiches and fresh fruit on a skewer. 

Tiled store front.
Uptown Seville


 Art wants to see the Metropol Parasol, designed by Jurgen Mayer and completed in 2011 and more intimately referred to as the mushroom building. We enjoy a relaxed walk across town, I have no idea what to expect but I am delighted with the waffle like pods growing skyward in the striking morning light. I love the juxtaposition of this modern building in contrast to the surrounding old town. Skateboarders and bicyclists ride on the upper plaza but unfortunately the elevator to the very top of the structure is closed. 

Metropol Parasol Plaza
Art taking the escalator up to the plaza
Metropol Parasol Plaza






The old city surrounding the Metropol Parasol
Metropol Parasol

























We wander leisurely and then walk to the Museum of Belle Arts to see their collection of Golden Age Sevillian paintings and a special Murillo exhibition. The rooms of the museum surround a lush cloistered garden and the walls of the courtyard are decorated with Sevillian tiles.  

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo Painting
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo exhibition

















Bartolomé Esteban Murillo
Museo Bellas Artes de Sevilla
Museo Bellas Artes de Sevilla
















We continue to feel relaxed until we suddenly realize that we have not checked the closing time of the Real Alcazar Palace. It is after 2:00 P.M. and it closes at 5:00 P.M. today. We walk across the city as quickly as our feet will carry us. Fortunately the entrance line isn’t too long and we only have a 15 minute wait. The day is slightly overcast and just as we enter the immense courtyard of the Lions, it begins to sprinkle.  Every stone surface has intricately carved patterns and vividly colored tile and mosaic work abounds.  

Aquaduct arch – Real Alcazar Palace
Entering the Royal Alcazar Palace
Palace facade

To my tastes, this palace is much more beautiful than the many Renaissance and Rococo palaces I have visited.  We wander the labyrinth of rooms and courtyards each more stunning than the last. Scalloped archways open onto geometrically perfect courtyards with immense reflecting pools. I am wearing a geometrically patterned blouse and I am almost camouflaged when I stand against the richly patterned walls.

Inner courtyard of the Real Alcazar
Reflecting pool
Ceiling detail
Architectual detail 
Window opening onto a courtyard
Scalloped archways


Art posing like the painted tiles
Marty in Palace archway 



The Royal Alcazar is an fine example of Mudejar architecture which is a unique style that evolved in the Christian Kingdoms of the Iberian Peninsula. The style incorporates Hispanic-Muslim style elements that blossomed during the coexistence of the Moors and the Christians between the twelfth and the sixteenth centuries.

Iron gate 
Architectural detail

We wander the tiled pathways in the palace gardens; a manicured labyrinth of box hedges, palms and reflecting pools. The walkways are slick and the smell of fresh rain hangs in the air.

Palace garden
Palace garden
Palace garden










We return to our hotel, sit for a drink at the rooftop bar and have dinner a second time at Bartola, the tapas restaurant around the corner. We can’t resist ordering the ricotta stuffed squash blossoms a second time and sample a few new tapas. Yummy!

Rooftop view 
Port at our rooftop bar


Hotel Amadeus rooftop bar













A Rick Steves tour group is staying at our hotel and yesterday we shadowed the group to a nearby Flamenco theatre and purchased tickets for tonight’s show. Rick’s guide book recommended several Flamenco venues but we figured the best option would be the one where he takes his group. I walk over early to secure front row seats while Art finishes his drink on the terrace. There are no bad seats in the theatre that seats just 100. There are just 4 performers; the guitarist, two female dancers and one male dancer who’s provocative moves and skin tight pants leave little to the imagination. The dancers lightening fast feet reverberate with syncopated rhythm on the wooden plank floor and the guitarists fingers fly. I am not disappointed with the intimate performance. 

Intimate Flamenco performance

Not quite ready to call it a night Art and I wander our neighborhood filled with bustling cafes and restaurants. We sit for one last drink and return to the lovely Hotel Amadeus.

Cafe’s in Seville’s old city

Lovely Seville

Friday, June 29th,  Tavira Portugal to Seville Spain
There are no trains between Tavaira, Portugal and Seville, Spain but we have 10:15 A.M. tickets on the express luxury bus to Seville. After Art’s local bus experience yesterday, he is not looking forward to today’s 3.5 hour bus ride but when we slip into our spacious seats with a T.V. screen on the rear of each seat he brightens. The bus ride is comfortable and delightful and we watch the landscape scroll past our windows. The gently rolling countryside is agricultural with countless groves of dusty green olive trees dotting the golden landscape. We have a 15 minute bathroom stop along the way but in the crowded stop we neglect to take note of which of the identical busses we disembark from and upon our return are confused and the bus signage is not clear. The main women’s bathroom is under repair and a line of about 10 women wait for a single stall while men come and go quickly in their bathroom equipped with a half dozen stalls. One gutsy woman ahead of me marches into the men’s restroom and I follow behind her and find a vacant stall. Not a big deal, but I might not have had the courage to do this had she not pioneered the way and would have spent an uncomfortable second half of the bus trip with an overly full bladder.   

Luxury bus to Seville
We arrive in Seville before 2:00 P.M. and take a taxi to the Amadeus Hotel in the heart of the old city. The taxi driver takes a less than direct route to our hotel and Art follows his meandering route on Google maps and grumbles his displeasure. I surmise much of the meandering is due to one way streets barely wide enough to accommodate one vehicle.  Our hotel and its location in the picturesque back streets of Seville is sublime. Once again, the Rick Steves guide book has served us well and although Hotel Amadeus is a bit pricier than most of our hotels at approximately $140 Euros a night, it’s tiled and grated entry, Persian carpets, crystal decanters of complimentary port wine and herbal ice tea combined with it’s musical themed décor make it well worth the price. We deposit our luggage in our room and take note of the thick towels, crisp linens, bathrobes and slippers but we have sightseeing on our agenda and first head upstairs to the rooftop bar to inhale the view of the surrounding city rooftops and get our bearings. 
Hotel Amadeus, Seville
Gated entrance to Hotel Amadeus
Music themed Hotel Amadeus
The afternoon is hot but not unbearable and  we stop for tapas at an outdoor café on a busy street just above the Cathedral. The waiter suggests we order Tito de Verano, a cooling summer drink that is a mixture of chilled red wine and lemon soda; Seville’s version of Sangria. We share tasty and inexpensive tapas of grilled squid,  eggplant tapenade and fried potatoes.  Art orders a second Tinto de Verano and our bill is less than $20. Revived by the food and drink we begin the Rick Steves old city walk. It is cooler in the confines of the maze of narrow cobbled streets and we meander past private residences peeking through ornate iron gates into private jeweled gardens. Intimate squares are tucked inside the old city and the wisteria and other flowering plants sweeten and cool the air.
Seville  old city walk
Private garden in old Seville















Seville old city walk
Water pipes in the old city wall
A delightful street pavement cover for cables!
When we come to the Seville Cathedral, the third largest in Europe after Saint Peters in Rome and one in England, there is a 20 minute wait to enter. We are grateful when it is our turn to enter the cool interior of the immense gothic cathedral. Aside from being spectacularly ornate, Christopher Columbus is entombed here. We are not tempted to climb the three hundred feet to the bell tower but instead, enjoy the ambience of the shady cloistered courtyard before returning to the streets of Seville. 
Seville Cathedral
Gothic interior of the Seville Cathedral
Tomb of Christopher Colombus 
Altar piece

















The Seville Cathedral Bell Tower
Cathedral cloister garden













Outside, elegant carriages and well groomed horses stomp with impatience in the afternoon heat waiting for a fare. I surmise that they are practicing their Flamenco steps.
Horse drawn carriages
Horse drawn carriages













Our hotel recommends a tapas restaurant around the corner and we enjoy wonderful Tapas at La Bartola accompanied by premium glasses of red wine. We share a tempura sushi rolls, eggplant towers and ricotta stuffed zucchini flowers. All is excellent and affordable. 

Eggplant tapas tower
Ricotta stuffed zucchini flowers



















Art wants to find an ATM and is convinced that he will get the best rate at the Deutche Bank. We set out along the fashionable Avenue De La Constitucion. Street performers dance the Flamenco and musicians perform at every corner, their music clashing at times and all competing for an audience. Panhandlers sit with their bowls competing for sympathy tossed their way in the shape of a coin. Gypsy women thrust sprigs of rosemary towards me and I decline their offering, knowing that it ultimately will come with a price. We walk for miles getting lost and back tracking and I grow cranky and give Art’s Google mapping skills a bad review. Ordinarily Art will tell me that it is just an 8 or 12 minute walk from point A to point B and I usually reply cheerfully, “I can do that,” but tonight I decide that from here on, I will set a timer on Art’s mapping. This lightens the tension that has fallen between us and actually proves to be a rather fun game. After a few too many “time’s over,” we take a taxi to the food market.  The market is another trendy and upscale iron and glass paradise for the human gourmet but certainly not for the Iberian pigs. The haunches of many a pig hang from above, a dripping cup for the leaking fat and juices attached below each one. We watch a butcher with a gleaming knife give a waiter a lesson in cutting paper thin slices of the meat from the haunch. He weighs and rolls the slices arranging them on a platter for a waiting customer. 

Trendy food market across from the Triana district
The bridge to the Triana district
Triana district at night

From the market we cross the bridge into the Triana district, a recommended district for strolling and night life. Side walk cafes line the riverside promenade but we don’t find the district especially compelling and return to the old city on foot. Art continues to urge me on with Google map promises of short walks between points of interest. We stop for drinks at a corner restaurant and eventually meander back to our hotel.

Road Trip along the Algarve Coast

Tuesday, June 26, Road Trip along the Algarve Coast
We walk back to our hotel to recharge our phones and collect our clean laundry and take a taxi to Euro Rental Car. Art is miserable and anxious over my arrangement to rent a car for our drive south to the coast and he makes no “bones” about it.  Our intention is to spend the night in Salema and there is no direct public transportation. I reserved a car in advance and when I ask for a map, the woman behind the desk informs me that they have run out of maps. Unbelievable!. The man behind the counter assures us that the GPS will get us there easily and sets the GPS to English with our end destination, Salema. He also prints out Google map directions and we are on our way via countless roundabouts before we access the highway and Art begins to relax. The drive is to take us 3.5 hours and we expect to arrive at the coast around 8:00 P.M. The golden rolling hills are dotted with cork oaks and the countryside looks much like the stretch of California between King City and Santa Barbara. We see a few storks nesting in roosting platforms, telephone pole high along the highway. Our credit card is connected to a prepaid device attached to our windshield that  records the various tolls when we pass through. Every so often, we pass under an arch with multiple recording devices hanging down and our car beeps as another Euro or two are added to our bill. The GPS is excellent and eventually Art concedes that the drive is not so terrible after all.  We stop at designated rest stop to use the facilities and pick up snacks. It is not unlike any U.S.A. freeway rest stop. The countryside becomes steeper and is visually dramatic in the late afternoon light.

Salema Portugal
Salema Town
A peek of the beach











Navigating is a bit more complicated when we near the coast and Art is tiring from the drive and I wish that I could take over but he is to be the only driver on our contract. We head east toward Sagres, the furthest point of Europe and begin looking for the turn off to Salema. Although we make a few wrong turns, we are soon winding down toward the coast and arrive in Salema, a small sea side tourist town and fishing village. Art finds street parking and we walk a block to the village center and at the first hotel, inquire about a room. We are relived that there is availability and take the 3rd floor, 80 Euro room. Although the hotel boasts 3 stars, the room has seen brighter days but we do have an ocean view and aside from sleeping we will spend little time here. We stow our luggage and head downstairs to explore the town and choose a restaurant for dinner. A soccer game is playing in the hotel bar so our foray outside is slightly delayed but we are soon walking along the peaceful waterfront where we have half a dozen restaurants to choose from. We choose one owned by a German couple where we sit and sip glasses of wine and wait for our meals.  Art orders seafood pasta and I choose a goat cheese salad. Our meals are reasonably good.  After dinner we stroll along the one cobble stone street of the town and return to our hotel for the night.
Wednesday, June 27th. Sagre, The Furthest Point of Europe and onto Tavira. 
The included breakfast at our hotel is uninspiring. It is a beautiful sunny morning and we walk down to the harbor and turn right along the white sandy beach. The water is crystal clear but Atlantic Ocean cold as we walk along the edge of the gently lapping sea. The ocean is so still that we are tempted to go kayaking but other things are on our day’s agenda and we content ourselves with a peaceful beach walk along this pristine and dramatic beach. Yellow and orange sandstone cliffs rise dramatically above the beach. It is low tide and the slabs of rock that were underwater at high tide are carpeted with a lush green sea moss. The montage of colors; azure blue ocean, white sand, mossy green rocks and yellow and orange cliff faces make this beach one of the most dramatically beautiful ones I have had the privilege of making footprints on. 

Salema Beach
Salema Beach













Art, Salema Beach

Red cliffs and mossy rocks along Salema Beach














We walk to the end of the sandy crescent and retrace our path towards the slowly waking village. Although Salema used to be an active fishing village, there are now only half a dozen old salts still making their living fishing and trapping octopus. We walk towards the other end of the beach and watch a small tractor launch a fishing boat out to sea. Another fishing boat on the sand collects it’s nets with a mechanical clipping churn and I ask if I may take a photo? The weathered fisherman nods and I take a video of them rolling in their nets. Further up the beach rests another fishing boat but when I ask to take a photo the fisherman scowls and shakes his head. 

Octopus traps
Fishermen and their nets
Salema Town
We return to our hotel via the cobble stone shop lined street, check out and drive the 10 kilometers to Sagres, the most southwestern point of Europe. Parking at light house is jammed and souvenir and food wagons line the blustery path to the lighthouse. Nevertheless, the cliff side views are breathtakingly beautiful and we take full advantage of the photo ops before starting our drive back towards Tavira.

View from the Sagres lighthouse
Cliffs of Sagres
Studio Bongard at the Sagres lighthouse
Bongard fish sculpture

Art now has the hang of roundabouts and we are soon on the toll highway and the two hour drive to Tavira is easy. Although most of the drive is inland, we stop in Lagos for a marvelous fish lunch. 

The Algarve coastline
Lagos harbor








Fish restaurant in Lagos










We arrive in picturesque Tavira about 2:00 P.M, find street side parking and set off to the tourist office to find a room for the night. The day is insufferably hot and the woman at the IT tourist office is far from charming. She suggests a 4 star hotel and our inquiry about a few simpler hotels suggested in the Rick Steves guide book seems to displease her. She scrawls a few suggestions on a city map and we are off to investigate our options. All are close by but the first guest house is fully booked as well as one of the Rick Steves recommendation. We walk 10 minutes along the riverfront and come to the Marina Hotel which has a double river view room available for 80 Euros a night including breakfast. The room is lovely with a vintage tile bathroom and a balcony overlooking the river.

Tavira, a city built on two sides of the river
Our river front hotel
The view from our hotel balcony

We begin the Rick Steves Old City walk, stopping first in a Café so Art can watch a few minutes of the World Cup and to refresh with a sparkling orange drink and an espresso. The red tile roofs and secluded gardens of Tavira are lovely and we follow Rick’s suggested walk in the stifling heat of the afternoon. 

Rooftop view of Tavira
Tavira garden
The riverfront drive open to vehicles
Later tonight there will be music!

We come to a small plaza and I see the curtained entrance to a Fado Theatre, a recommended 30 minute experience that includes a 10 minute movie of the history of Fado and a 20 minute performance. We have fortuitously arrived 5 minutes before the 5:15 P.M. show and we pay the 8 Euros each and enter the theatre. (Art is not enthused and the guide book has the price listed at 5.5 Euros, not 8 so Art wears his pained expression throughout the tedious performance.) His sour mood does not lessen until we are back outside even with the post performance shot of port, included in the ticket price.  This is one of the few times where I feel that Rick Steves may have gotten it wrong and I am relieved the show is just 30 minutes long.

Fado Historia
Inside the Fado Historia






Tile rooftops of Avira











We return to our car and Art navigates the narrow streets to our hotel where we will have free parking until 9:00 A.M. tomorrow morning. Quick showers and our air conditioned room soon revive us and we head out to enjoy the evening. We sit for drinks at an outdoor café and as Art watches a few minutes of a soccer game, I find contentment in people watching and enjoying a glass of crisp Portuguese wine. It is still daylight when we cross the pedestrian bridge to search for a restaurant for dinner.

Pedestrian bridge in Tavira
Afternoon light in the old city
Restaurants and cafes
















The outdoor tables at Aquasul Restaurant are full or reserved but we are fortunate that they have a single available table for 2 inside and we slip into our seats gratefully. The tuna Carpaccio with arugula is exceptional as is the chicken curry. We order individual glasses of wine and Art, anxious to sample more of the excellent food orders mushroom ravioli, a mistake of overindulgence. Dinner with 2 glasses of wine each is about 50 Euros or $60 including tax and tip. It is close to midnight by the time we climb the stairs to our hotel room.

Thursday, June 28th – The Saga of the Rental Car Return – Tavira
Because I am not authorized to drive the rental car, Art must return it today in Faro. Although Faro is only about 30 miles away, we both know that it will take the better part of the morning for him to return it at the Faro airport and catch a bus back to Tavira. Art graciously agrees to do this alone while I stay in town and catch up on writing and some Marty Magic business. Art drives off around 9:30 A.M. and I sit at a simple café near our hotel and write for a couple of hours, sipping on sparkling water to stay hydrated. 

A blissful morning writing at a riverfront cafe. 

It’s another sweltering day and I want to find something cooler to wear. For a seasoned traveler, I have not packed appropriately. The jeans that the hotel laundered in Evora are now too tight to wear comfortably and I want to blame it on the hot water and dryer and not on the extra calories that I have been consuming. This heat calls for a cool dress and set out along the strip of shops adjacent to our hotel and buy a knee length blue cotton dress and a light straw hat. Art texts me to inform me that the rental car return process sucks but that he thinks he is on the right bus back and will arrive in Tavira at 2:25 P.M. I text a reply that I will meet him at the bus station, a short walk from our river front hotel. 

Secluded cafe along the river
Boat docking in Avira












Understandably, he is not in the best of moods when he returns but after recharging at our hotel, we set out to enjoy the late afternoon in Tavira. We stop briefly in the cool of an Irish pub to watch a few minutes of the World Cup and then wanter onto an upscale riverfront café for cool drinks and tidbits of calamari. Everything is very affordable, making cafe and bar hopping fun and financially painless.  A house wine costs about 2 Euros ($2.50) and the premium wines about twice that amount. Tax and tip are included in the prices so by California standards, café hopping is extremely affordable and delightful in this picturesque town of whitewashed buildings and narrow cobblestone streets. As the afternoon turns to evening, street musicians and performers stake their territory on the bridge and in the plazas.

A balmy Tavira evening

We choose an inviting rooftop restaurant for dinner but the meal is disappointing although the semi sweet white wine with the chameleon on the label is excellent. It is after 10:00 P.M. as we walk back towards our hotel and we hear dance music. There is music in the Zocalo near our hotel. Art fast walks his pack and my purse back to our room and returns shortly, hand outstretched and pulls me onto the square where we join the other dancers. Although Polka is not our dance, we find quite a few songs that we can dance to in the welcome cool of the evening. We are beginning to understand the afternoon ‘siesta.’ Business are open between 10:00 A.M. – 1:30 -2:00 P.M. They then close for several hours, opening again at 4:00 P.M. or 5:00 P.M. and remaining open until 9:00 P.M. or 10:00 P.M. Restaurants, bars and cafes are open until midnight. Young children play and dance with their parents late into the evening. It is simply too hot in the mid-day to do much more than ‘siesta.’


Stone Circles and the Chapel of Bones

Monday, June 25th – Lisbon to Evora
The train station we depart to Evora from is out by the Zoological Gardens and Art wishes to take the metro. Although the metro stop is not far and our luggage is minimal, it is still an effort to maneuver rolling suitcases over cobblestone streets and down into the depths of the metro. Art takes the brunt of it and eventually we pop up at the metro stop nearest to the train station. We are unnecessarily early and our train is somewhat delayed but by 5:30, we are onboard and on our way to Evora. Although we have assigned seats, our car is only half full and the passengers are taking the seating assignments loosely until a few stops along, an entire troupe of girl scouts board and we watch the harried leader find their assigned seats to contain her brood. Their appearance requires most of us onboard make way for them and to scurry into assigned seats.
We arrive in Evora slightly after 6:30 P.M. and take a taxi the short distance to our hotel just inside the old city walls. The taxi metering is different in Evora than in Lisbon but in spite of the higher rate, our 10 minute ride to our hotel is less than 6 Euros. Our hotel, the Albergaria do Calvarios is a beautiful property and almost too upscale for my tastes. We are graciously welcomed and offered drinks in their outdoor courtyard café bar but Art is anxious to watch the soccer game and does not want to do so in the enclosed bubble of our hotel. Our room is elegant and spacious with a view overlooking the red tile roofs of the old city. The modern marble bath has a bidet, which in addition for its intended purpose, I will appreciate for washing and soaking my tired feet after  a long day of walking cobble stone streets. There is no time to waste now however and after depositing our luggage we race along the old city streets to the town square in search of an outdoor café showing tonight’s World Cup game. 

Inside the Evora City Walls
Roof top view from our hotel window.
Courtyard of the Albergaria do Calvarios Hotel













Back street cafe, Evora




Evora city square
The center square cafes have no T.V. screen and we are directed to a side street where several overflowing cafes are showing the game. Although we stand for some minutes and ask about adding a table near the back, there is no seating. We find a sterile indoor café showing the game and each order a drink. Not being a sports fan, I position myself, back to the game and write this blog. At half time, Art wanders out to make reservations for dinner after the game however can’t find the intended restaurant in the maze of narrow back streets. It must be 9:30 when the game ends and we set out in search (again) for the Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant, highly recommended in Rick Steve’s guide book. The handsome but casually dressed Matridis is standing outside and when we ask if we can eat there tonight he replies, “I don’t know; are you hungry?” He explains that we don’t get to choose, that dinner is a set price of 25 Euros each and that it will include salad and starters, a main course with side dishes and include dessert. Wine is additional. We accept his challenge and are seated at the end of a table for 6. We already know that this restaurant is not for vegetarians and want to experience the local cuisine. As it turns out, had Art been able to find this restaurant during half time, the table for 6 was booked but the party didn’t show, so we are fortunate. 

Appetizers at Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant
Main course of roasted pork neck and potato



















We ask the waiter his suggestions for wine and he brings us each ample pours of white wine to pair with the starters followed by glasses of red to accompany the main course. Bring it on! For starters, a perfectly dressed, fresh greens, tomato and tuna Carpaccio salad arrives. Hearty bread and crackers arrive momentarily accompanied by an antipasto platter of cheese fondue, an assortment of cheeses, slices of sausage and salami and three remarkable dipping sauces.  What sits before us is more than an ample meal and this is just the beginning. Everything is exceptional and we pace ourselves. A much younger couple is seated at the opposite end of our table for 6. They are from Florida and this is their first night of their honeymoon; each having arrived in Evora from different destinations earlier in the day. The main course is roasted pork neck, roasted potatoes and a spinach soufflé. I rarely eat meat but the melt in your mouth pork is delicious and the savory soufflé is rich and fluffy. We can make only a small dent in the main course and unfortunately,  because of our travel schedule we will not be able to take the leftovers home. We converse with the Floridian newlyweds while waiting for the dessert course to arrive. A mint, lemon and oregano sorbet cleans our palate followed by a sampling of chocolate desserts. The bill is 60 Euros, tip and tax included. The meal is an extraordinary experience.
Tuesday, June 26, Evora’s Megalithic Sites and the Chapel of Bones.

The included breakfast in our hotel is marvelous but after last night’s feast, I try to choose wisely. The fresh fruit salad is wonderful, as is the egg frittata. An array of out of the ordinary pastries tempts from the buffet but I resist their call and help myself to seconds on the fruit and sip the strong cappuccino. We pass a bag of dirty laundry to reception that will be washed during our archeological excursion to the stone circles.  Mario arrives at 10:00 A.M. and another couple also staying at this hotel and surprisingly from Lost Gatos, California are on our small tour of 6. We climb into the comfortable mini bus with Mario and a driver and pick up a couple from Macau in the center of town.

View of the Megalithic Stone Circle

Megalithic Stones
Explanation of the Stones

Art taking shade in the sweltering Evora heat
Marty and the Stones

Mario has his masters in archeology and is articulate, personable and extremely knowledgeable. Our first stop on the Megalithic tour is an amazing stone circle site. Unlike Stonehenge, there are no velvet ropes to separate us from the magic of this extraordinary site. This is wonderful for us but terrible for the preservation of the site.

Our next stop requires a trek through farmer’s fields where hemlock, Queen Ann’s lace and thistles grow wild. I am struck by the beauty of the wild flowers and interested to see hemlock first hand and to learn the visual difference in identifying hemlock versus Queen Ann’s Lace. Cattle graze in the surrounding fields and the acorns from the plentiful cork oaks are processed and used as feed for the livestock. We come to a lone standing megalithic stone, part of the stone circle we visited earlier but downhill from the cluster of stones and to the West. There is another similar stone in the same position downhill and to the East that we do not have time to visit.

Cork Oak Trees
Thistle

Single Megalithic Stone
Flat topped Queen Ann’s Lace

Our final stop is the site of a burial mound. We drive along a dirt road past groves of cork oaks and park, walking a short uphill path to the burial site. Mario explains that this site has been carelessly excavated with explosives prior to understanding the importance of such a discovery. A circle of huge slabs of stone form a cave like crypt where 12 -15 bodies were buried. These monumental stones were then topped by a larger slab that has been slid away and lies cracked at the top of the site. This cap stone is about 20 feet across. The site was previously covered by dirt to form an invisible mound in the rolling landscape.

Burial Crypt 

Inside the burial crypt

Inadequate cover of the site.

Broken capstone from the Crypt

Mario drops us off in the town center of Evora. We pay him the 25 Euros each for the remarkable tour and although tipping is not expected in Portugal Art passes him 5 Euros, saying “because we are Americans.” 

Roman Temple of Diana

It is 1:00 P.M. and we quickly choose a sidewalk café and order tuna salads to somewhat compensate for last night’s over indulgence. We walk to the Roman Temple of Diana, visit the Roman Cathedral and climb to it’s roof top for a view of Evora. 


Roof top of the Roman Cathedral
Roof top of the Roman Cathedral


Art ontop of the roof
Roof top of the Roman Cathedral
The Cathedral Cloisters

The interior of the Cathedral




































The highlight of Evora proper is a visit the Chapel of Bones. It was built in the 16th century by a Franciscan Friar who wanted those who visited to contemplate that life is transitory.  The Chapel is remarkably macabre and beautiful. 

Panorama of the Chapel of Bones – Evora Portugal

The walls and pillars of the interior are lined with human bones. Skulls decorate the archways and leg bones form the columns. Every inch of the interior is paved with bones. 

Mummified bones
Illuminated skulls and bones



Single wall of bones in the Chapel of Bones
Skull and femur columns

Skull and bone walls
Skulls decorate the arched ceilings