By the time we got to Mexico City, Neto and I had climbed more than a few pyramids ~ none of them easy. The steps are tiny, as if the people who built them had itty-bitty feet. And yet the risers were so steep, each climbing step felt like a giant’s footstep. No pyramid was as impressive, however, as Teotihuacán, a World Heritage Site, thirty miles outside of Mexico City.
After a week in Cuernavaca, Neto and I decided we couldn’t take being in our Airbnb for one more night. It was noisy and dirty. The art on the wall was grotesque. It was depressing. It was time to move.
“Where should we go?”
“Let’s go back to Mexico City.”
We were both leaving from the Mexico City airport in two days ~ me by plane to Atlanta and Neto by bus to Guadalajara. Spending a couple of nights in downtown Mexico City seemed like a good choice.
As usual, we didn’t have a plan. Our bus pulled into the Mexico City terminal and we went outside to catch a taxi.
“Where do you suggest we stay for a couple of nights?” Neto asked the taxi driver. (Note: Do NOT try this by yourself!)
“I know a nice place by the Plaza de la Republica,” the driver answered. And off we went, Neto in the front seat next to the driver, me in the back. Soon Neto and the driver were laughing and trading stories like old friends. They’d both been to the U.S. They’d both been sent home. Neither of them regretted the experience.
We pulled up next to our hotel. It was breath-taking ~ very European modern with lots of glass and hotel staff who looked like they were part of a photo-shoot. Handsome men with bright white smiles assured us we had come to the right place.
The next day, our last full day together before we had to leave, we opted for a tour of Mexico City and the surrounding area. A van picked us up after breakfast. Again, Neto sat in front with the driver. I was in the second seat, with a delightful family from Ecuador. By the time the tour was ended, we were all good friends.
I was the only person in the van who didn’t speak Spanish. The tour guide did his best to speak English. Neto did his best to translate for me. Mostly I spoke to the family from Ecuador in very short phrases and smiles.
Our first stop was the Templo Mayor, a major attraction in the very heart of downtown Mexico City and one of Mexico’s most important archaeological sites. We wandered aimlessly around the ruins before getting back in the van to go to The Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
The new church was built between 1974-1976 on the same site as the previous 16th century basilica, which had been sinking into the ground for many years. The new, modern church, was filled with prayerful pilgrims from all over the world. Outside the church, priests were selling rosaries. For a few extra dollars, they would say a blessing over the beads.
No trip would be complete without a tourist stop for lunch and souvenirs, where we shopped and had free drinks of tequila and pulque. The souvenirs were mostly items made from precious stones, especially onyx and malachite, not your typical airport fare.
Our final stop was Teotihuacán, a sacred site with not one, but two, Aztec temples: The Temple of the Sun and the Temple of the Moon. Neto climbed both of them. I climbed one with my new best friend from Ecuador. We made it to the top with the help of a long rope, strung from the top of the temple to the bottom. We climbed, step by step, hand over hand on the rope, until we reached the top. We were triumphant.
This is like taking a trip! What a welcome respite from the weirdness of the current times.
I have actually been to these places and it brought back good memories. I was visiting relatives in Lake Chapala when I was introduced to Guadalajara and Mexico City. Hope to get back to Mexico one day. It was my first travel outside the US and where one of our sons was married. Love it.
Makes me want to go!