Kitty Catty Basket
Nov. 29th, 2014 10:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeWe ended up staying in Cryn's place a good three hours after we had got back from the pyramids, with the kitty falling asleep and me taking a good 90 minutes to update this journal. This meant it was past 8pm when we left the house, heading over Insurgentes - the longest road in America remember - from Roma Sur to Roma Norte, where the majority of local nightlife resides. We decided that we would have a bigger night on Friday so decided to keep it simple and go to a tapas restaurant favoured by both Cryn and Misha. Even though tapas is not particularly Mexican, the guys did speak highly of it and as Mexico City is a global metropolis, there is a huge range of good quality cuisine available. Thursday is usually a busy night in this area but not this time, with the majority of places only half full. We had a short wander around the area, where I was glad to see the presence of many dogs, before we sat down in the restaurant, which served taps in white crusty rolls. We decided to go with four of the five combo options (missing out the chocolate one) and soon we were munching on tasty tapas while drinking the deliciously smooth try sweet Indio beer. The label of this, with it's Native American in green and gold, is a true work of art and we admired it as I had a draft and then had two of the five bottles from Taneli's special bucket.
Feeling sleepy, we decided to head back to the flat after this, calling in at a chain of famous department stores on the way home. Named Sanborns, they are owned by the richest man in the world, who is a Mexican who discovered there was a huge gap in 24/7 shopping in Mexico. It was certainly convenient as I needed some nail clippers (after foolishly forgetting to pack some) and both Taneli and I needing some Chap Stick. Maybe it's the altitude, the long flight or the cool breeze, but we had both developed some very sore and chapped lips, hence the need for some soothing medicated lubricant.
We were so tired that we pretty much went to bed when we got back, with me waking up in the middle of the night yet again needing the toilet, even though I had tried to limit my consumption of liquids throughout the evening. The bedroom was a little hot and with Taneli's snoring, it meant I had to sleep with the kitties in the living room. The sofa and single tiger blanket was a lot cooler though and I fell asleep pretty quickly, even if the cats were initially suspicious and then slightly unhappy by my presence. They left me alone though and I think they quite like me, even though I'm a dog. No pettings yet but I'm getting there with the kitty catty baskets. I have been struggling to acclimatize to my new surroundings and I tend to feel tired by around 6pm every day, which is one of the reasons why we have been taking it easy since our arrival. I hope the jetlag effect will subside soon.
I woke up about 8.30am which was a perfect time to awaken. I was soon up and reasonably lively, enjoying the delicious chorizo (which comes mashed here in a vacuum-packed packet) and scrambled egg on toast that Misha made for us. This was most delicious, with the spiciness of the chorizo combining well with the richness of the egg. We also enjoyed some toast with salted butter, interestingly far more orange in colour than the butter back home and a nice cup of chi. By 10am, we were largely ready to head into the city, with Misha having given us directions to the nearest tube stop and which lines we needed to use. He also kindly tore some pages out of a map book from 2003 that we could use to navigate around the centre of the city. We quickly met their cleaning lady, who sadly didn't look like Consuela from Family Guy before we headed out to downtown to see some sights.
The underground stop Chilpancingo (which for some baffling reason is in my dictionary on this device) is two blocks from our digs and is signified by a wasp. All of the stations have a symbol linked with them while all of the lines (there are 10, 1 through 9 and A) have a colour and number associated with them. Misha was telling us that illiteracy is a big problem in the city and that many of the people who ride the metro cannot read the station signs, necessitating the colour and symbol combination. We had to travel three stops on brown line number 9 and change on to the blue line number 2 at Chabacano for another three stops before reaching Zocalo at the heart of the city. The brown line wasn't particularly busy but the blue line certainly was, and with pickpocketing rife, I was particularly suspicious of a group of seven lads who were stood next to us, clocked us and started making odd gestures at each other. To be fair, they were quite blatant so it was probably nothing, which it turned out to be, but I was a little suspicious nonetheless.
I quite enjoyed riding on the subway, largely because it was a unique experience. The gaps between each subway station were surprisingly long while at every stop a new itinerant salesman got onto the coach. Each was selling a different thing and they moved down the carriages with every stop, making me think that they were organised somehow. Cryn confirmed this so on any one train you didn't have a seller selling the same produce. We saw a blind man selling Christmas records at one point and another selling a TV system using music clips exclusively from the period between 1983 and 1991. These sellers were loud but not in your face, and despite clearly being tourists, they didn't single us out for special attention.
Another interesting aspect of the subway were the range of snack counters at every station, including teeny tiny McDonald's, Burger King and Dominos Pizza stalls. They were much more akin to little pop up stands than full restaurants and yet they still served their full fare to ravenous commuters. The typical smell of outdoor cooking pervaded the subway stations, making them quite pleasant places to be had it not been for the huge throngs of people. At the final stop, Zocalo, upon disembarking we saw an exhibit dedicated to the disputed territory of Western Sahara which seemed very oddly placed, with aspects of local life and cultural significance on display. I don't know whether there was any point to it - Western Sahara is hardly high on the list of tourist destinations - but I imagine something was going on.
Upon surfacing at Zocalo, the first thing you see is the impressive Catedral Metropolitana, the city's main cathedral which overlooks Plaza Constitution. The latter is a large open square with some colonial style buildings to its south and west, the cathedral on the north flank and the impressively long yet surprisingly non-descript Palacio Nacional to the east. In the centre of the square is a large Mexican flag which looks impressive in the wind but droops like a pathetic windsock when it's still. At the front of the cathedral, in its grounds, there are some glass windows in the floor below which you can see the original cathedral foundations, including some steps with tiling in situ. We wanted to go into the cathedral but decided against it as there was a mass taking place and we didn't want to disturb them, thinking it would be a little rude even if the doors were open and no one was stopping us. Furthermore, Taneli was wearing three-quarter length shorts and although they covered his knees, we didn't know if this would be contrary to the no shorts policy they advocated. We went around the cathedral before we headed back and in the end, the shorts thing wasn't a problem. The cathedral itself is impressive in its structure but is far more minimalist than many of the churches we saw in Italy last week. Down either side there is a range of smaller chapels, some plain with simple artwork and others more ostentatious with gold and iconography. One had a huge portrait of the Pope while the alters, as there were two, gilded in gold were tremendously impressive. The same could be said for the organ, a large wooden structure framed in gold and placed nearer the centre of the church as if to dominate it. We didn't get chance to go into the special chapel (as we weren't sure it was open) and the vault (as it was so expensive) but wandering around for fifteen minutes was a relaxing experience. As we left, we saw the commencement of another mass, demonstrating just how devout many Catholics are.
Without a guidebook, we opted to walk around the historical centre seeing what we could see. Cryn had told us about the Palace of Fine Arts (Palacio del Belle Artes) a giant marble structure near Alameda Central, the main park in the city, which was a few blocks west of where we were. As we walked down, we saw an interesting juxtaposition of buildings - old colonial structures perhaps worn out a little through age nestling against more modern concrete buildings and even a skyscraper occupied by Ferrero Rocher. There were also a few nice little churches, architecturally intricate yet made largely of plain stone, set aside some major high street brands as this was one of the middle class shopping districts. It was a nice mix of the old and the new, the religious with the commercial. We took advantage of this and stopped by a 7-Eleven where we bought some Sponch, simply because it had a rather silly name. This is a layer of biscuit topped with pink and white marshmallow, enhanced by coconut with a giant jam splodge in the centre. I'll admit the shiny pink package also drew me in. We ate our Sponch on our final yards to the Palacio, with its prestige whiteness soon honing into view. It was a glorious sight in the sun let me tell you.
The first thing that hits you when you see the Palacio is the warmth of the golden domed roof. This is enhanced by the gold lettering on its frontage, which entices you to take a closer look from the other side of the road. Braving the traffic, we did just that, and after navigating our way around a cultural event which was being set up in its forecourt and after looking at the rampant horse statues triumphantly guarding the front of the building, we were soon inside marvelling at a world of marble. To be honest, the reddy brown theme of the interior, with the elephant motifs at the top of the building, did recall memories of a Hyatt-Hilton from the Fifties that I may have once stayed in, but it was impressive nonetheless. Built as a conference hall, theatre and meeting space between 1904 and 1934 (although the architecture betrays its youth, it really could have been built a lot lot earlier), the complex also houses a museum which we decided to look at. Despite there being a ticket office and a sign telling us to pay $45 (the peso sign is the dollar sign here) and an additional $30 to take photographs, the lady on the ticket desk assured us it was free and soon we were on the second and third floors, enjoying a commanding view of the main forecourt of the structure as well as a closer look at the huge golden dome. The word 'livre' confused us as in Castilian Spanish the word 'free', like it is in most of Europe, is 'gratis'.
The museum itself housed a few exhibits, but it was a bit of a confusing hotch-potch. There were a handful of Aztec artefacts, particularly pottery and jugs, as well as some fascinating seventeenth century paintings of the previous century's conquest of the area by the Spanish. Some of these were pure propaganda, portraying Mary as the protector of 'New Spain' or family portraits of a Spanish General and an 'Indian' with their children. There was also a lot of political artwork from the 1930s and 1940s, much of it socialist in nature, which was interesting but inexplicable as to why it was there. While we were there, there was also a prison tour taking place, where around five or six young offenders were being led around in handcuffs accompanied by triple the number of security guards. They filed past us at one point and it was an extraordinary procession. I don't know if it was a day release thing but I'm all for prisoners getting a little culture. The top floor was all about the conception, design, construction and inorgoration of the Palacio, which would have been more fascinating had I understood more Spanish rather than the limited knowledge I currently possess. I regret not studying it a little more before I came out here but I really didn't have the time, meaning some words I knew have since been lost from my mind while I would say I understand 50-60% of the words I see on a day-to-day basis. Sadly there are usually one or two words per sentence with which I struggle which doesn't make such things easy. Added to this is that I've forgotten a fair bit since studying GCSE Spanish for a year in 2007-08. Still, what I do know, which is what Cryn told me, is that Mexico City is sinking due to the fact it's built in the valley on an old lake and a lot of water has been drained to provide water for the city. The weight, largely from the marble, of the Palacio means it's sinking far quicker than any other building and this is evidenced by cracks in its structure, even though it is currently celebrating only its eightieth birthday. We couldn't see any cracks but I've been assured it's happening.
Upon leaving the Palacio, we headed over to the park where we saw a political rally taking place. We weren't sure what it was but we assumed, with the red flags, it was a union march and something to do with workers' rights. They were stationed on one of the main roads and we had to dip into the park to avoid them, sitting in the sun in front of a fountain for a few minutes into they had moved on. This was all very pleasant and we were soon on our way again, spying a few other churches before battling our way along a pavement on which market stall traders were selling their wares, particularly tourist products, DVDs, memory sticks and food, most of which was being eaten by locals. The blue tortillas looked particularly interesting. I'll admit that this area had a familiar smell to it, much akin to similar impoverished areas of Indonesia and the Philippines and this evoked memories of those trips. I have no idea of these olfactory reasons, but it was the case.
We headed east, spying a couple of museums, one of which was displaying a couple of large meteorites which were exceptionally cold and smooth to the touch. We also saw the resplendent golden beauty of the post office building which was something out of the 1900s in its quaintness. It's still a fully working post office and I wish I could have taken some pictures but alas there was a security guard with a massive fuck off gun, the biggest I have ever seen, and I didn't fancy chancing it. While we were walking aimlessly down these streets, we saw a range of colonial buildings, newer ones, posh shops and ramshackle dates affairs, with many of them quaint and probably having not changed in decades. This was particularly the case east of the main square, which was teeming with life as market traders had set up shop on the pavement while bricks and mortar establishments competed on the high street to get their products a profile. The presence of so many street vendors crowded the pavements, so much so that the road was often the safest place to be. The shops were particulate busy as people get paid here fortnightly on the 15th and 30th of the month, and with the 30th being a Sunday, most people got paid on Friday. Down some streets there were protective idols, with the Virgin Mary being common, again highlighting the devout nature of Mexican Catholicism. A whole shopping centre dedicated to religious goods, many of them gold in nature, also demonstrated this. Despite the crowds, as tourists we were never specifically targeted although a massage man did place his device on my back for me to check its quality. I found the whole chaos exciting, a real slice of city life, and I was glad to be a part of it.
Before this, we had had lunch in Starbucks in the posher western part of the city. In the porticos around the main square - one of them containing beautifully rich blue tiling of the coats of arms of the main Spaniards involved in subduing the indigenous population five centuries ago - we were repeatedly hassled by people touting their restaurants. I tend not to respond to those people and Taneli fancied Starbucks, which cost roughly £5, which must be well beyond the means of most people in this city. Due to this late lunch, at weren't massively hungry but this didn't stop us later in the day when we enjoyed delicious barbecue food at an Argentinian steak restaurant just two blocks away from Cryn's place. We had made it back a little after 4pm, with Misha just finishing his work but Cryn still at his office, largely as he had to get the tyre fixed that he punctured on Thursday. With this done, we largely went out as soon and Cryn returned at around 6pm to enjoy a sumptuous feast at a place where the guys know the owners very well. There was a range of top beers available from around the world so I was happy while we got to try some more fantastic Mexican food along with Argentinian cuisine, which is very popular here due to the large Argentinian community in the city. The beers I had included a 9.2% one from Germany and a whopping 14% one too, the latter called Samichlaus Classic, which was exceptionally sweet. We started with an empanada which was effectively like a deep fried pasty. Mine was filled with meat and cheese and it was exceptionally delicious, particularly with a green sauce of olive oil and a variety of herbs sprinkled on the top. We also got a dish called choriqueso which was a little like a Mexican fondue of melted cheese with mixed in chorizo, which is scooped into a tortilla, doused with chilli sauce and wrapped up before eating. This was divine although it was quite greasy, understandably so considering it was high fat cheese. Our main course consisted of parillaba, a large platter of various meats grilled on their special coal barbecue. There was chicken, steak, ribs and two varieties of snausage to name but a few of the meats, and the four of us shared one huge portion. The tray was piled high with different tender cuts and it was just a case of piling in and cutting off what you wanted for yourself. Some of the meat was a little tough but the snausages were delicious and succulent while the chicken was the real highlight, as it was full of flavour and melted in the mouth. For dessert I opted for alfajor, a dark chocolate cookie wrapped in green icing, drizzled with chocolate. The cookie part was a little dry in all honesty but this suited me as the two high strength beers, combined with my tiredness (by 6pm I've been knackered every day so far since arriving - must be the jetlag) meant I was feeling uncharacteristically tiddly. The meal itself was fantastic and sitting outside in the little veranda made it a perfect evening, with great songs from VH1 Classic in the background. We got a discount as the owners know Cryn and Misha, while everyone at the establishment was really friendly. Due to this and its proximity, we may go back another time.
We got home about 9pm and were so tired we didn't know what to do with ourselves. We had hoped to go to the pink zone, the gay area of town which thankfully is quite unlike the dreadful gay districts back home. However we were all so tired that we opted to take it easy, with some going to bed straight away and me going in the shower and updating this as I still needed to acclimatise to the timezone and felt an earlier night would scupper that. So this is what I did and after a nine hour sleep with just one toilet interruption, I feel a lot more refreshed.
Feeling sleepy, we decided to head back to the flat after this, calling in at a chain of famous department stores on the way home. Named Sanborns, they are owned by the richest man in the world, who is a Mexican who discovered there was a huge gap in 24/7 shopping in Mexico. It was certainly convenient as I needed some nail clippers (after foolishly forgetting to pack some) and both Taneli and I needing some Chap Stick. Maybe it's the altitude, the long flight or the cool breeze, but we had both developed some very sore and chapped lips, hence the need for some soothing medicated lubricant.
We were so tired that we pretty much went to bed when we got back, with me waking up in the middle of the night yet again needing the toilet, even though I had tried to limit my consumption of liquids throughout the evening. The bedroom was a little hot and with Taneli's snoring, it meant I had to sleep with the kitties in the living room. The sofa and single tiger blanket was a lot cooler though and I fell asleep pretty quickly, even if the cats were initially suspicious and then slightly unhappy by my presence. They left me alone though and I think they quite like me, even though I'm a dog. No pettings yet but I'm getting there with the kitty catty baskets. I have been struggling to acclimatize to my new surroundings and I tend to feel tired by around 6pm every day, which is one of the reasons why we have been taking it easy since our arrival. I hope the jetlag effect will subside soon.
I woke up about 8.30am which was a perfect time to awaken. I was soon up and reasonably lively, enjoying the delicious chorizo (which comes mashed here in a vacuum-packed packet) and scrambled egg on toast that Misha made for us. This was most delicious, with the spiciness of the chorizo combining well with the richness of the egg. We also enjoyed some toast with salted butter, interestingly far more orange in colour than the butter back home and a nice cup of chi. By 10am, we were largely ready to head into the city, with Misha having given us directions to the nearest tube stop and which lines we needed to use. He also kindly tore some pages out of a map book from 2003 that we could use to navigate around the centre of the city. We quickly met their cleaning lady, who sadly didn't look like Consuela from Family Guy before we headed out to downtown to see some sights.
The underground stop Chilpancingo (which for some baffling reason is in my dictionary on this device) is two blocks from our digs and is signified by a wasp. All of the stations have a symbol linked with them while all of the lines (there are 10, 1 through 9 and A) have a colour and number associated with them. Misha was telling us that illiteracy is a big problem in the city and that many of the people who ride the metro cannot read the station signs, necessitating the colour and symbol combination. We had to travel three stops on brown line number 9 and change on to the blue line number 2 at Chabacano for another three stops before reaching Zocalo at the heart of the city. The brown line wasn't particularly busy but the blue line certainly was, and with pickpocketing rife, I was particularly suspicious of a group of seven lads who were stood next to us, clocked us and started making odd gestures at each other. To be fair, they were quite blatant so it was probably nothing, which it turned out to be, but I was a little suspicious nonetheless.
I quite enjoyed riding on the subway, largely because it was a unique experience. The gaps between each subway station were surprisingly long while at every stop a new itinerant salesman got onto the coach. Each was selling a different thing and they moved down the carriages with every stop, making me think that they were organised somehow. Cryn confirmed this so on any one train you didn't have a seller selling the same produce. We saw a blind man selling Christmas records at one point and another selling a TV system using music clips exclusively from the period between 1983 and 1991. These sellers were loud but not in your face, and despite clearly being tourists, they didn't single us out for special attention.
Another interesting aspect of the subway were the range of snack counters at every station, including teeny tiny McDonald's, Burger King and Dominos Pizza stalls. They were much more akin to little pop up stands than full restaurants and yet they still served their full fare to ravenous commuters. The typical smell of outdoor cooking pervaded the subway stations, making them quite pleasant places to be had it not been for the huge throngs of people. At the final stop, Zocalo, upon disembarking we saw an exhibit dedicated to the disputed territory of Western Sahara which seemed very oddly placed, with aspects of local life and cultural significance on display. I don't know whether there was any point to it - Western Sahara is hardly high on the list of tourist destinations - but I imagine something was going on.
Upon surfacing at Zocalo, the first thing you see is the impressive Catedral Metropolitana, the city's main cathedral which overlooks Plaza Constitution. The latter is a large open square with some colonial style buildings to its south and west, the cathedral on the north flank and the impressively long yet surprisingly non-descript Palacio Nacional to the east. In the centre of the square is a large Mexican flag which looks impressive in the wind but droops like a pathetic windsock when it's still. At the front of the cathedral, in its grounds, there are some glass windows in the floor below which you can see the original cathedral foundations, including some steps with tiling in situ. We wanted to go into the cathedral but decided against it as there was a mass taking place and we didn't want to disturb them, thinking it would be a little rude even if the doors were open and no one was stopping us. Furthermore, Taneli was wearing three-quarter length shorts and although they covered his knees, we didn't know if this would be contrary to the no shorts policy they advocated. We went around the cathedral before we headed back and in the end, the shorts thing wasn't a problem. The cathedral itself is impressive in its structure but is far more minimalist than many of the churches we saw in Italy last week. Down either side there is a range of smaller chapels, some plain with simple artwork and others more ostentatious with gold and iconography. One had a huge portrait of the Pope while the alters, as there were two, gilded in gold were tremendously impressive. The same could be said for the organ, a large wooden structure framed in gold and placed nearer the centre of the church as if to dominate it. We didn't get chance to go into the special chapel (as we weren't sure it was open) and the vault (as it was so expensive) but wandering around for fifteen minutes was a relaxing experience. As we left, we saw the commencement of another mass, demonstrating just how devout many Catholics are.
Without a guidebook, we opted to walk around the historical centre seeing what we could see. Cryn had told us about the Palace of Fine Arts (Palacio del Belle Artes) a giant marble structure near Alameda Central, the main park in the city, which was a few blocks west of where we were. As we walked down, we saw an interesting juxtaposition of buildings - old colonial structures perhaps worn out a little through age nestling against more modern concrete buildings and even a skyscraper occupied by Ferrero Rocher. There were also a few nice little churches, architecturally intricate yet made largely of plain stone, set aside some major high street brands as this was one of the middle class shopping districts. It was a nice mix of the old and the new, the religious with the commercial. We took advantage of this and stopped by a 7-Eleven where we bought some Sponch, simply because it had a rather silly name. This is a layer of biscuit topped with pink and white marshmallow, enhanced by coconut with a giant jam splodge in the centre. I'll admit the shiny pink package also drew me in. We ate our Sponch on our final yards to the Palacio, with its prestige whiteness soon honing into view. It was a glorious sight in the sun let me tell you.
The first thing that hits you when you see the Palacio is the warmth of the golden domed roof. This is enhanced by the gold lettering on its frontage, which entices you to take a closer look from the other side of the road. Braving the traffic, we did just that, and after navigating our way around a cultural event which was being set up in its forecourt and after looking at the rampant horse statues triumphantly guarding the front of the building, we were soon inside marvelling at a world of marble. To be honest, the reddy brown theme of the interior, with the elephant motifs at the top of the building, did recall memories of a Hyatt-Hilton from the Fifties that I may have once stayed in, but it was impressive nonetheless. Built as a conference hall, theatre and meeting space between 1904 and 1934 (although the architecture betrays its youth, it really could have been built a lot lot earlier), the complex also houses a museum which we decided to look at. Despite there being a ticket office and a sign telling us to pay $45 (the peso sign is the dollar sign here) and an additional $30 to take photographs, the lady on the ticket desk assured us it was free and soon we were on the second and third floors, enjoying a commanding view of the main forecourt of the structure as well as a closer look at the huge golden dome. The word 'livre' confused us as in Castilian Spanish the word 'free', like it is in most of Europe, is 'gratis'.
The museum itself housed a few exhibits, but it was a bit of a confusing hotch-potch. There were a handful of Aztec artefacts, particularly pottery and jugs, as well as some fascinating seventeenth century paintings of the previous century's conquest of the area by the Spanish. Some of these were pure propaganda, portraying Mary as the protector of 'New Spain' or family portraits of a Spanish General and an 'Indian' with their children. There was also a lot of political artwork from the 1930s and 1940s, much of it socialist in nature, which was interesting but inexplicable as to why it was there. While we were there, there was also a prison tour taking place, where around five or six young offenders were being led around in handcuffs accompanied by triple the number of security guards. They filed past us at one point and it was an extraordinary procession. I don't know if it was a day release thing but I'm all for prisoners getting a little culture. The top floor was all about the conception, design, construction and inorgoration of the Palacio, which would have been more fascinating had I understood more Spanish rather than the limited knowledge I currently possess. I regret not studying it a little more before I came out here but I really didn't have the time, meaning some words I knew have since been lost from my mind while I would say I understand 50-60% of the words I see on a day-to-day basis. Sadly there are usually one or two words per sentence with which I struggle which doesn't make such things easy. Added to this is that I've forgotten a fair bit since studying GCSE Spanish for a year in 2007-08. Still, what I do know, which is what Cryn told me, is that Mexico City is sinking due to the fact it's built in the valley on an old lake and a lot of water has been drained to provide water for the city. The weight, largely from the marble, of the Palacio means it's sinking far quicker than any other building and this is evidenced by cracks in its structure, even though it is currently celebrating only its eightieth birthday. We couldn't see any cracks but I've been assured it's happening.
Upon leaving the Palacio, we headed over to the park where we saw a political rally taking place. We weren't sure what it was but we assumed, with the red flags, it was a union march and something to do with workers' rights. They were stationed on one of the main roads and we had to dip into the park to avoid them, sitting in the sun in front of a fountain for a few minutes into they had moved on. This was all very pleasant and we were soon on our way again, spying a few other churches before battling our way along a pavement on which market stall traders were selling their wares, particularly tourist products, DVDs, memory sticks and food, most of which was being eaten by locals. The blue tortillas looked particularly interesting. I'll admit that this area had a familiar smell to it, much akin to similar impoverished areas of Indonesia and the Philippines and this evoked memories of those trips. I have no idea of these olfactory reasons, but it was the case.
We headed east, spying a couple of museums, one of which was displaying a couple of large meteorites which were exceptionally cold and smooth to the touch. We also saw the resplendent golden beauty of the post office building which was something out of the 1900s in its quaintness. It's still a fully working post office and I wish I could have taken some pictures but alas there was a security guard with a massive fuck off gun, the biggest I have ever seen, and I didn't fancy chancing it. While we were walking aimlessly down these streets, we saw a range of colonial buildings, newer ones, posh shops and ramshackle dates affairs, with many of them quaint and probably having not changed in decades. This was particularly the case east of the main square, which was teeming with life as market traders had set up shop on the pavement while bricks and mortar establishments competed on the high street to get their products a profile. The presence of so many street vendors crowded the pavements, so much so that the road was often the safest place to be. The shops were particulate busy as people get paid here fortnightly on the 15th and 30th of the month, and with the 30th being a Sunday, most people got paid on Friday. Down some streets there were protective idols, with the Virgin Mary being common, again highlighting the devout nature of Mexican Catholicism. A whole shopping centre dedicated to religious goods, many of them gold in nature, also demonstrated this. Despite the crowds, as tourists we were never specifically targeted although a massage man did place his device on my back for me to check its quality. I found the whole chaos exciting, a real slice of city life, and I was glad to be a part of it.
Before this, we had had lunch in Starbucks in the posher western part of the city. In the porticos around the main square - one of them containing beautifully rich blue tiling of the coats of arms of the main Spaniards involved in subduing the indigenous population five centuries ago - we were repeatedly hassled by people touting their restaurants. I tend not to respond to those people and Taneli fancied Starbucks, which cost roughly £5, which must be well beyond the means of most people in this city. Due to this late lunch, at weren't massively hungry but this didn't stop us later in the day when we enjoyed delicious barbecue food at an Argentinian steak restaurant just two blocks away from Cryn's place. We had made it back a little after 4pm, with Misha just finishing his work but Cryn still at his office, largely as he had to get the tyre fixed that he punctured on Thursday. With this done, we largely went out as soon and Cryn returned at around 6pm to enjoy a sumptuous feast at a place where the guys know the owners very well. There was a range of top beers available from around the world so I was happy while we got to try some more fantastic Mexican food along with Argentinian cuisine, which is very popular here due to the large Argentinian community in the city. The beers I had included a 9.2% one from Germany and a whopping 14% one too, the latter called Samichlaus Classic, which was exceptionally sweet. We started with an empanada which was effectively like a deep fried pasty. Mine was filled with meat and cheese and it was exceptionally delicious, particularly with a green sauce of olive oil and a variety of herbs sprinkled on the top. We also got a dish called choriqueso which was a little like a Mexican fondue of melted cheese with mixed in chorizo, which is scooped into a tortilla, doused with chilli sauce and wrapped up before eating. This was divine although it was quite greasy, understandably so considering it was high fat cheese. Our main course consisted of parillaba, a large platter of various meats grilled on their special coal barbecue. There was chicken, steak, ribs and two varieties of snausage to name but a few of the meats, and the four of us shared one huge portion. The tray was piled high with different tender cuts and it was just a case of piling in and cutting off what you wanted for yourself. Some of the meat was a little tough but the snausages were delicious and succulent while the chicken was the real highlight, as it was full of flavour and melted in the mouth. For dessert I opted for alfajor, a dark chocolate cookie wrapped in green icing, drizzled with chocolate. The cookie part was a little dry in all honesty but this suited me as the two high strength beers, combined with my tiredness (by 6pm I've been knackered every day so far since arriving - must be the jetlag) meant I was feeling uncharacteristically tiddly. The meal itself was fantastic and sitting outside in the little veranda made it a perfect evening, with great songs from VH1 Classic in the background. We got a discount as the owners know Cryn and Misha, while everyone at the establishment was really friendly. Due to this and its proximity, we may go back another time.
We got home about 9pm and were so tired we didn't know what to do with ourselves. We had hoped to go to the pink zone, the gay area of town which thankfully is quite unlike the dreadful gay districts back home. However we were all so tired that we opted to take it easy, with some going to bed straight away and me going in the shower and updating this as I still needed to acclimatise to the timezone and felt an earlier night would scupper that. So this is what I did and after a nine hour sleep with just one toilet interruption, I feel a lot more refreshed.
