Wanderlust

Despite its noise, filth, and relentless crush, Mexico City, specifically its Centro Histórico, has since I moved to Guanajuato come to fulfill for me a number of purposes: It offers museums and concerts unavailable in Guanajuato; it offers tangible items either unavailable in Guanajuato (heavy-duty two-face tape, hoisin sauce, bridge threaders), cheaper in el DF (Distrito Federal) (film, photo processing and enlargements, tea bags of green tea), or of which there is a better selection there (clothes and vitamins); and it of course offers the vitality of a real metropolis and for me houses certain places (the Museo Franz Meyer, the Mercado La Merced, the Catedral Metropolitano) that I find myself returning to almost every time I go, which is several times a year.

From an esthetic point of view, Mexico City’s Centro Histórico has become something of a disappointment since I have come to know Havana’s, which is much superior in its intactness, and which has the advantage of offering cafés where one can relax and hear fabulous music. Although there are a large number of absolutely stunning colonial structures in el DF’s Centro Histórico, unlike Havana, here there is no continuity of architecture, and buildings that are not just modern but also ugly (notably the Torre Latinoamericano, which is taller than anything else) are a major distraction from what is worth looking at. The other problem is the crush of humanity and traffic and in many places the incredible density of ambulantaje (selling on the street), which can make it difficult even to get a look at some of those gorgeous palaces and churches. (What used to be one of my very favorite places, the Plaza Santo Domingo, has since been ruined for me by an invasion of ambulantaje.) For this reason it turns out that the best way to appreciate what is beautiful in the Centro Histórico is to walk around early on a Sunday morning, when everything is closed and the streets are relatively deserted.

When I go, it is generally for a long weekend, leaving Thursday and returning Monday (or arriving in el DF from a trip somewhere else usually Thursday). As soon as I arrive I head for a newstand and spend 7 pesos on a copy of Tiempo Libre, a newsprint magazine that comes out every Thursday and offers listings of all kinds of cultural happenings for the coming week. On Friday morning, when I buy La Jornada, the national newspaper I always read, I consult the cartelera that it publishes on Friday, with information on events for the weekend. I find that some events will be listed in one source and not the other. One frustration of pursuing cultural happenings in el DF is that it is very hard to get information in advance on what will be taking place in the future, so that on some visits I will find three or four concerts to go to and on other visits only one. One exception to that difficulty is the website I recently discovered of the Instituto Nacional de Bellas Artes, at http://www.inba.gob.mx.

My favorite concert venues are the Sala Ponce in the Palacio de Bellas Artes, the Antiguo Palacio del Arzobispado, and the Salón de Recepciones of the MUNAL (Museo Nacional de Arte). The Sala Ponce is a small auditorium, ideal for chamber music, on the second floor of Bellas Artes (Avenida Juárez and the Eje Central Lázaro Cárdenas), where one can hear the Orquesta de Cámera de Bellas Artes and other chamber groups. The Antiguo Palacio del Arzobispado (on Calle Moneda just east of the Cathedral) is a museum owned by the Secretaría de Hacienda y Crédito Público in the ample patio of which is presented an active program of cultural offerings; I have seen performances of jazz and flamenco there. At the MUNAL (on Tacuba a little east of the Eje Central) there are frequently free concerts of chamber music at noon on Saturday and Sunday. And of course there is the main sala at Bellas Artes (where I heard a magnificent performance of “Messiah” last year and the Orquesta Sinfónica de Xalapa more recently), but I tend to prefer the type of music performed in smaller settings. All events, by the way, come at a discount with the INSEN card. The enormous frustration of wanting to go to concerts in Mexico City is that the city is very horizontal (the opposite of New York, which is very vertical), meaning that excellent offerings may be taking place at venues like the UNAM and the Centro Nacional de las Artes, either of which would require riding an hour on the Metro from the Centro Histórico, which this old lady traveling alone is not up to doing at night.

As to museums, with one exception I relate more to specific exhibits that sound interesting than to particular museums, so on a particular trip I may walk south to the Museo de la Indumentaria Mexicana inside the Universidad del Claustro de Sor Juana (Avenida Izazaga just east of Isabel la Católica), north to the Palacio de Bellas Artes, a museum as well as concert hall, cross the Alameda Central to the Museo Mural Diego Rivera at the western end, venture out to the Museo Nacional de Antropología, in Chapultepec, or go into what I think is the Centro Histórico’s most magnificent secular building, the Palacio de Iturbide (Avenida Madero between the Eje Central and Bolívar), now a cultural center belonging to Banamex (and Citibank) that offers exhibits from the bank’s own collection of paintings. The one museum I keep returning to is the Museo Franz Meyer (Avenida Hidalgo 45, across the street from the north side of the Alameda, in a pleasant sunken plaza with two churches known as the Plaza de la Santa Veracruz; www.franzmeyer.org.mx), a museum of “artes decorativos” based on the collection of a rich German who lived in Mexico in the early 20th century. The permanent collection includes several bargueños, and I happen to get high on bargueños, which I discovered in Ecuador. (A bargueño is a portable desk with a multitude of little drawers and, more importantly, exquisite inlays of mother of pearl, tortoiseshell, or wood of a different color.) There are always temporary exhibits (my favorite of course was an exhibit of bargueños and desks from the 17th century on), and there is a lovely patio with a little café. A place that I treat like a museum although it isn’t is the big Fonart store on Avenida Juárez (the avenue that runs along the south side of the Alameda) a little past the western end of the Alameda. The artesanía is of the highest quality and beautifully displayed, with a tree of life that is at least eight feet high at the far end.

But to actually buy artesanía I go to the mercado de artesanías at la Ciudadela, a large plaza south of the western end of the Alameda at the Balderas Metro station. On the south side of the plaza is El Centro de la Imagen, a cavernous museum of photography (usually too avant-garde for my taste), and on the north side is an enormous and very varied mercado de artesanías, somewhat confusing to navigate because of the multitude of stands, but if you’re looking for something in particular, people are very helpful if you ask. Just don’t go before 11, or you’ll miss out.

I’ve mentioned the Alameda Central in passing, but it’s worth focusing on the fact that this is a very, very lovely rectangle of parkland that starts just west of the Palacio de Bellas Artes and marks the western end of the Centro Histórico, with a large number of 19th century fountains and semicircular stone benches with very high backs, patrolled by mounted police in charro outfits. Across the street from the south side of the Alameda near the eastern end is a Gandhi bookstore and a Sears, noted for a café on the 8th floor that offers a spectacular view of Bellas Artes from above. Calle Dolores, which goes south from the south side of the Alameda close to the eastern end, is for two blocks el DF’s Chinatown.

If you cross the north-south Eje Central—which can be an intimidating experience—from the southeast corner of the Alameda, Avenida Juárez becomes Avenida Madero, something of a main drag of the Centro Histórico. Passing an art deco building on the left, you arrive at the famous Casa de los Azulejos (House of Tiles), housing the main Sanborn’s, where if your feet are tired you can stop at the counter or the restaurant and order something to drink while you rest. The magazine section is very complete, bridge threaders are available in the pharmacy, and the danés de manzana (apple Danish) in the pastry section is fabulous. Whenever I need money, I use one of the ATMs at Sanborn’s because there are always a lot of people around. A little further down the block is a General Nutrition Center, and across the street is the Iglesia de San Francisco, which has a gorgeous gold retablo on the right as you enter, and further down across the street is the already-mentioned Palacio de Iturbide.

Keep on going, passing an area of opticians and stores selling gold jewelry, and in four or five blocks you’re at the Zócalo, the second largest plaza in the world, after Red Square in Moscow. It is also possibly the world’s ugliest plaza, totally bare cement except for a massive flag flying from its center. My mother (who twice lived in Mexico City) told me that the Zócalo used to be beautifully landscaped until someone sometime shot at the president from one of the trees and the president ordered them all cut down. During the administration of Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas, the first elected Jefe de Gobierno del Distrito Federal as a result of elections in 1997, a poll was taken as to whether residents wanted the Zócalo landscaped, and the result was 80 percent in favor. A design competition was held, a winner was chosen, and nothing ever happened.

Ugly as it is, this massive space can be very functional; book fairs are held here, mass concerts are held here, the May Day parade ends with rallies here, altars are exhibited here on el Día de los Muertos, and of course demonstrations and sit-ins for all kinds of causes take place here. To get a spectacular view of the Zócalo, the Cathedral on the north side, and the Palacio Nacional on the east, have a meal at the outside part of the seventh-floor restaurant of the Hotel Majestic, on the northwest corner of the Zócalo. Although not at all religious, I’m a fan of churrigueresque gold retablos and figures, which keeps me visiting the Cathedral to see their selection, wishing that the first chapel to the left as you enter wasn’t always closed and that the lighting was adequate to fully appreciate all those gorgeous angels and archangels as I peer through the rejas.

Across from the Cathedral on Avenida Cinco de Mayo, a block north of Madero, is a spectacular colonial building housing one of my favorite shopping experiences, the Nacional Monte de Piedad. This is the national pawnshop, which for my purposes is a place to exercise patience for the sake of buying gold jewelry at bargain prices. Long stretches of counters, each staffed by an individual entrepreneur, each displays an array of gold rings, bracelets, earrings, watches, and so forth, so that to see, for example, all the earrings it is necessary to peruse the contents of a large number of cases.

For more mundane shopping, I go a little south of the Zócalo on Cinco de Febrero, which forms the Zócalo’s western border, to look for clothes at El Nuevo Mundo and El Palacio de Hierro, department stores across the street from each other; for underwear I go to Diseños Princesa at Cinco de Febrero #14. At the corner of Cinco de Febrero and Avenida El Salvador is the enormous Farmacia París, where in the self-service section I can find a selection of bandaids unavailable in Guanajuato. For classy hardware (a miniature flashlight, a tortoiseshell comb) I go to Bowker on 16 de Septiembre (one block south of Madero) between Bolívar and Isabel la Católica. For second-hand books, I can browse in a number of stores clustered on Donceles (three blocks north of Madero) at the end near the Cathedral. I get photos developed and enlarged for rock-bottom prices at Lucky, Tacuba #74-B (Tacuba is two blocks north of Madero). I once came across a shoe store specializing in comfortable (and attractive) shoes; it’s Soria Zapatería, at Cinco de Febrero #50-B, between Mesones and Regina (several blocks south of Madero).

For looking more than buying, I take the Metro to the Mercado La Merced; the Metro stop La Merced is smack in the middle of the market’s main building. I get high on markets as well as bargueños, and although not as colorful as, say, the mercado in San Cristóbal de las Casas, the Mercado La Merced at least is truly immense, the main building several blocks long and two or three blocks wide. It is a wholesale as well as a retail market, and there are stands selling nothing but carrots, nothing but garlic, nothing but mushrooms, huge mounds of mole, and so on. When I need an extra bag to take home my purchases and the photographs I have had developed in, I take advantage of a couple of puestos in the midst of the food that sell a large assortment of nylon bags with zippers, as well as the more typical Mexican shopping bags. In that vicinity, at desnivel (going down), there is a housewares section, although I also have seen an impressive selection of pots and pans outside, along with a lot of miscellaney. I once asked where the flowers were and discovered that there is a separate building for flowers, in which part of what is impressive is that 90 percent of them are artificial. Of course it’s easy to get totally lost wandering around, but it’s also easy to ask where the entrada to the Metro is for the return trip.

Speaking of the Metro, you can get a map at a trailer with tourist information stationed by the Cathedral. When you consult the map, you need to note the destination of the line you’re taking in the direction you’re going so as to follow the signs in the station indicating the platform for the train going to that destination. You pay 2 pesos at the taquilla for a paper ticket that goes in a slot at the turnstile, you walk to the front or the rear where the cars are less crowded, you keep a tight hold on your bag, and you do a lot of walking where it says Correspondencia when you need to change to a different line. My means of transportation within Mexico City are basically walking and taking the Metro; I mostly avoid taxis except for going between the bus station or airport and my hotel (an authorized taxi from the bus station or airport and a taxi called by my hotel to return) because of the crime associated with taxis, and I haven't figured out the buses, besides which the peseros (small buses) are sometimes hijacked.

And speaking of my hotel, I can recommend the hotel itself but must mention that the encroaching ambulantaje in its vicinity has been getting truly oppressive. The hotel is the Hotel El Salvador, Avenida El Salvador #16, between the Eje Central and Avenida Bolívar (four blocks due south of Bellas Artes), (01-55) 5521-1247 and 5521-1008; www.hotelelsalvador.com; info@hotelelsalvador.com. (I make reservations by email and get a return confirmation.) It’s a three-star hotel with 100 generously sized rooms with built-in furniture functionally designed, offering cable TV, parking, a restaurant, and internet service in the cocktail lounge (25 pesos an hour, more than you pay elsewhere); a single room is 290 pesos and a double 350. A room in the front will get you a balcony, a lively street scene (it’s an electronics district), and the accompanying noise; a room at the back will get you quiet and maybe a view of the laundry. What makes me occasionally think of changing hotels is the ambulantaje that is increasingly obstructing the sidewalk on both sides of the Eje Central from Avenida Madero south, including the four blocks I frequently find myself (slowly) navigating to reach the hotel. The ambulantaje there used to be more easily bearable until a street called Corregidora, which runs on the right side of the Palacio Nacional and used to be totally choked with ambulantaje, was cleared and given back to traffic, and that ambulantaje migrated to the Eje Central. Evidently the city administration is reluctant to challenge the ambulantes out of a fear of violence. I have to admit to buying things on the street (my everyday watch, a battery-operated pencil sharpener, black emery boards, a sink stopper, bicycle shorts) and I understand the economic necessity behind the phenomenon of ambulantaje, but I sometimes go out of my way to avoid walking on the Eje Central.

Being a vegetarian, I’m not a good source for restaurant recommendations, except that I recently discovered a restaurant called El Generalito because it’s across Calle Filomeno Mata from a vegetarian restaurant I patronize. El Generalito offers a comida corrida for 35 pesos with four choices of a main dish (including a vegetarian offering) and quite good food. Filomeno Mata is a pedestrian street going north from the north side of Madero between the Eje Central and Allende, which is the continuation of Bolívar. (Street names can cause a lot of confusion because they change a lot in el DF, e.g., north and south of Madero and east and west of the Eje Central, and sometimes with no particular pattern.) The restaurant is on the right and has no sign but does display the comida corrida on a chalkboard outside.

Actually I only eat comida out and prepare my desayuno and cena in my hotel room. I travel with an immersion heater and metal mug for making tea and various other equipment that permits me to have fruit, pastry, and tea for breakfast and either a cheese, tomato, and onion torta (with olive oil) or a stuffed avocado (with tomato and cheese) for cena. I buy my provisions at the Mercado San Juan, which is conveniently near my hotel and which sells the prettiest vegetables you’ve ever seen, especially the tiny little artichokes. (From the hotel, go west on El Salvador, which becomes Ayuntamiento the other side of the Eje Central, passing the Mercado de Artesanías San Juan—not as good as the one at La Ciudadela—walking through the Plaza San Juan so that you’re one block further south, where the funny-looking telephone building is, and then going right a little to the market. If you continue west on Ayuntamiento, by the way, you’ll find yourself first in a lamps-and-light-fixtures district and a few blocks later in a bathroom-furniture district.) For snacking I like the pay de amaranto with various fruit fillings sold in stores of the the Super Soya chain, which you’ll run across on Bolívar and 16 de Septiembre.

For doing email, I recently settled on a cybercafé with a dozen computers on Tacuba between Allende and Chile (would be Bolívar and Isabel la Católica south of Madero), on the second floor, walking up steps that are out of doors by a number of shops. It charges 10 pesos an hour before 1 p.m. and 15 pesos afterwards.

To get to Mexico City by bus, I’m a fan of ETN, a luxury bus line whose buses have 24 seats, two on one side of the aisle and one on the other, a bathroom, seat belts, leg rests, and, best of all, headsets, so that it’s not necessary to suffer through the soundtrack of the movie. It stops in Irapuato, gets to el DF in five hours or a little less, depending on traffic and on how long it stays in Irapuato, and costs a little over 300 pesos or half that with an INSEN card.

Expect to get confused, stressed, and quite tired (I find the altitude higher enough than Guanajuato’s to make a difference), but also expect to return enriched.