This would be our last full day in the city that captured my heart so quickly. It was also the day the street food finally caught up with me.
But that didn't matter. The trip was nearing its conclusion and we still had things to see.
The morning started with a croissant from a local shop, washed down with coffee. The one thing that disappointed me on the trip was the coffee. For some reason - and I have no explanation for this - I expected the coffee to be better. In general it was weak and lacked bold flavors. But the croissants were excellent, and as an American I'm used to weak coffee, so it was okay.
Near our hotel in the old city is the National Palace. I could make all sorts of arguments that calling the seat of power a palace is related to many of Mexico's troubles; but I was on vacation and a visitor, so I won't.
It was very cool.
The Palace opens at 9:00 and we were up well before that, so we wandered around the neighborhoods. In the old city there are dozens of churches. Many are in need of repair, but are nonetheless beautiful structures, maybe in part because of their dirty facades with weeds growing out of the cracks that have formed. Maybe they are a good metaphor for what happens to a society that neglects its moral underpinnings (and I'm talking about my own, here). Beauty neglected is still beautiful in its own way, perhaps because we see things as they were, or could have been, or still could someday be.
Those churches we visited were not tourist destinations. We visited the national cathedral as well, a spectacular building. I prefer the smaller places that aren't as photogenic. Behind the Palace we saw places that are anchors for their neighborhoods, places of safety in neighborhoods whose struggles are visible on the faces of its inhabitants and colorfully illustrated by the graffiti painted on every surface.
Only one other obvious tourist was there, another good sign.
Finally the palace was open and we went inside.
I admit to having a naturally rebellious nature; that's why terms like Palace give me an immediate negative reaction without first considering why it is called that. Some would say it's part of being an American, but that's not it; my nation isn't immune from romanticizing people in power and putting on pedestals people who have no right to be there. It's part of my Appalachian culture, at least how that culture was imparted to me.
There was great beauty in the Palace, a focus on history to remind us of what it was like in an era when the struggle for recognition was closely tied to the whims of our European overlords. Mexico's path was different than America's; but the similarities are tangible and should be a reminder that my country's Southern neighbor isn't so different than my own.
One thing in the Palace that reminded me of how different Mexico is. Gardeners were trimming the hedges and working on the topiary, and lying on the wall a fifty feet away from the nearest gardener was a machete. In the Palace. It's something unimaginable in America, where our concern for things overwhelms us and prohibits us from being human. My first instinct was amazement; my second, envy at an environment that laid back. An official laughingly reminded the gardeners to not leave a machete lying around, and they all laughed about it. That is awesome.
From the Palace we headed back to Chapultepec after a quick stop in our room. That morning I was reminded that communication is truly bi-directional. I could ask for directions to a bathroom; but I didn't have the language skills to understand the instructions on how to actually get to one.
First we needed lunch. We headed back to La Condessa. Specifically: Azul Condessa.
Some food is so pretty you are hesitant to eat it. Such was the case with my salad at Azul. Brilliant presentation, something I rarely care much about. Eat it I did, and it was wonderful. The only thing better than the food was the service. Kind, professional, attentive without being oppressive. And the setting was incredible, a place that inspires conversation and relaxation.
From Azul we walked the short distance to the castle at Chapultepec, again appreciating the quiet streets of Condessa. It was a rambling trip. Our legs were tired from the previous day's long trek. And in the end we didn't go into the castle. The entry fee felt a bit high and we were both tired. We got as far as the gate and turned around, preferring the serenity of a park bench to the crowds at the castle.
Somewhat refreshed from our siesta in the park, we hopped on the subway, and then to the hotel for a bit. Finally we headed off for supper. Our destination was Bosforo, but we were a little disappointed in the offerings. No, that's not entirely correct; the offerings didn't mesh with what we wanted. We had a drink and looked for another place, but didn't find anything that we could say with certainty that we wanted. In the end we went to a restaurant that we contemplated on our first night, a seafood place across from the Palacio de Belles Artes. It wasn't the greatest meal I'd ever had, but far from the worst.
