MEXICO CITY Y EL FINAL DEL VIAJE

We were both sad at leaving our little casa in Antigua.  In spite of the ordeal of my visiting Tikal, we really liked it there.  Our driver picked us up at the door and drove to Guatemala Airport.  It is a relatively small airport and easily managed.  Like every other airport in the world now,  they have kiosks to get your boarding pass.  When I booked my reservation it did not ask for my passport (which was odd since it was an international flight)  I had to enter my name but I do not use my middle name for in Mexico for that is actually your last name.  There were three boxes and I could not move on until something was in the third box.  I entered "Mr."  Remembering that I entered Larry Mr. and sure enough it popped up.  Instead of what we are accustomed to in a boarding pass it spewed out three 8 x 11 sheets of paper.  One was placed inside my checked luggage which I thought was a good idea.  Jennifer was not so lucky as it would not accept her real last name.  She had to go to another window to explain her problem.  They gave her what looked like a grocery receipt.

No problem with the flight and we pulled up to an actual gate so getting off the plane was no problem.  I walked up to Immigration and told the man I understood no Spanish.  He muttered a few words I did not understand and stamped my passport and visa.  Not so for Jennifer.   She got a real bitch who questioned her entry into Mexico just 6 months earlier.  She was told that a mark was going on her passport so unless she obtained a permanent visa, she would not be allowed back into Mexico again.  She was almost in tears.  She spoke perfect Spanish and yet I breezed through with no problem.  That will be our next battle:  getting permanent visas.  We had a nice cab driver who drove to our hotel, but had to let us out at the corner as our street was a pedestrian only street that led to the Zocalo (or main square of Mexico City)  The room was quite small but very clean and very well equipped and it was in a great location (unlike our first hotel).   The Hotel Ritz in Mexico bares no resemblance the The Ritz in Paris, other than it's name.  It is an old hotel, I think it said 1939 (which makes it younger than I am) but the baths had been redone with white marble and frosted glass.

We wandered around the Zocalo marveling at the beautiful buildings all illuminated.  We had arrived just a few days after the earthquake hit.  But the only sign of it were the tents set up in the middle of the square where food and housewares were handed out to the homeless.  We saw no damage at all.
Mexico City is an enormous megalopolis of over 21 million people (most are extremely poor) But around the Zocalo every one looked prosperous and in a hurry (just like all major cities)   On the way back we stopped to watch a little kid playing a small guitar and singing with all his heart.  He was just amazing.  When he wasn't singing he pressed his ear on the guitar listening to the sounds.  We are hoping he will be discovered by someone for he could be the next Mexican Michael Jackson or maybe Ricky Martin.  He was that good and so cute.  I can't remember if we ate that night as both of us were so tired.  I had brought a flask of Scotch with  me and Jennifer bought a bottle of Tequila at a local tienda (I had also brought a flask of Tequila for her, but she drank it in Antigua)  Maybe that is why we never ate.

The next morning I was up early and quickly dressed  in sweats to go to the lobby and get some coffee for my morning coffee and cigarette.  There was no coffee in the lobby and they directed me to the dinning room where a huge buffet had been set up for our complimentary breakfast.  I told the girl I just wanted coffee to take outside to have with a cigarette.  She said I could not take the cup outside so I told her I would take it to my room (a lie of course).  This is all in Spanish.  She said if I took the coffee to my room, I had to sign by my room number and that would be considered my complimentary breakfast.  WHAT??  I will never travel again without my portable coffee pot.  I got a cup of coffee next door and sat on a bench in the middle of the street to have my smoke.  No one else seem to be smoking anywhere.  A couple of policemen walked toward me and I was afraid I would be cited for drinking and smoking in the street.  (Is this Laguna Beach, or what??)  They passed by and I was struck by the fact that they carried only a pistol.  In Vallarta 18 year old kids are sporting machine guns.

Jennifer's main reason for visiting Mexico City was to see the home of Frida Kahlo.  Frida is an icon in Vallarta although she never got near the town.  Our favorite bar is called Un Bar Frida and there are paintings of her all over, including a huge mural that was cut out and moved from their previous location.  Jennifer has written a book on Un Bar Frida and the colorful characters that frequent the place.  The book also discusses the life of Frida and some similarities to Jennifer's life.  I had purchased tickets on the internet for I heard they were lines around the block.  Not so!  I was first struck by the size of the property which was originally owned by her parents.  The house is quite large and the walled gardens even larger.  I commented that her parents must have been rich, but Jennifer said the were not.  Even in the 1950's a property that size must have been worth a lot of money in the middle of Mexico City.   They had not only her paintings, but photos, and in glass cases her wardrobe and jewelry.  She was known for her large collection of precolonial art  (some of which was on display)  Along the way (in English) her life is chronicled as well as describing the use of each room during her life time.  She had many, many physical problems which she overcame.  Her clothing was designed to hide her deformed body.  She was considered quite gorgeous and attracted attention where ever she went.  The gardens are also gorgeous (which was the only thing I was allowed to photograph).  I really enjoyed it, but not as much as Jennifer.

I was still suffering from my cold and ran out of Kleenex.  I wanted out and go to a pharmacy.  I was told there was one 3 or 4 blocks away, but Jennifer thought we should get a cab.  As we headed back to our hotel I said,  "I am dying, get me to a pharmacy"  The driver said they are everywhere and I said,  "Fine take me to one".  It was just a few blocks from our hotel.  For some reason they sold me three boxes of the stuff.  They must have seen I was suffering.  I do not know what it was as it was a Pharmacia Similar.  What ever they worked so we walked to the Zocalo where there is a roof top terrace overlooking the Zocalo.  We started up the stairs, but when we got to the second floor I said, "Find me an elevator"  I think it was the fifth floor.  The food was so so, but the view was nice.

I was not in the mood to do much more walking so we returned to the hotel.  We wanted a really nice dinner for our last night and I had to recover first.  I asked the concierge and he showed me on the map where a nice reasonable restaurant was located.   Later that evening we set off.  He was a few blocks off on the restaurant but Jennifer spotted it.  The manager said they were closed.  Why?  There was no one in the place so maybe that is why.  Discouraged Jennifer looked across the plaza and spotted one on the corner.  It was a Kaiser of Paris which is basically pastry.  But next door was a nice restaurant with outdoor dinning.  We settled in there.  To our surprise and delight there was an ash tray on the table.  The first we had seen in Mexico City.  The food was wonderful and the ambiance even better.  Jennifer said she felt like she was back in Rome.  A perfect ending to our vacation,  I went back the following morning to take a picture of the restaurant and the square where it was located.
It is a short flight to Vallarta and we cleared customs and were out in front in no time.  Over Jennifer's protests, I hailed an airport taxi.  I was dropped off first.  So nice to be home again!  In spite of a few set backs (like Tikal) it was a wonderful trip.  Jennifer is a lot of fun to travel with.   Less than 30 seconds after I opened the sliding door to the balcony, kitty appeared.  She was screaming her head off.  I picked her up and carried her to my desk.  She likes to sit on my lap while I am at the computer.  I needed to check my email and wanted to spend some quality time with her, but also I was delaying going upstairs.  Felipe had messaged me at the M.C. airport.  He had his wife cleaning my apartment and she discovered that a lot of stuff had been stolen from the terrace.  I had only paid Felipe to water my plants and look in on kitty, but he had my apartment cleaned anyway.  That is the kind of person he is.

When I first opened the door I am not sure what I thought I would see, but I was surprised that everything looked the same.  There was no vandalism, nothing broken or even moved.  They just took everything that they thought they could sell.  My fan and ladder may be the most expensive things to replace, but my devil mask with the sheep horns will be the most difficult to find.  They took all my tools, including my garden tools, ash tray, even kitty's brush.  They also took several pieces of Mexican folk art.  Odd! as Mexicans do not like their own folk art, especially the younger ones.  But they were not stealing it for their own use, but to sell.  All the pillow cases to the pillows on my chairs were gone.  That also seemed odd, then I realized that they needed them to carry all the stuff away.  Still, it must have taken them several trips.  They also stole stuff from my neighbors patio and hit the patio of the taco restaurant next door.  Busy boys!

September is the slowest month of the year in Vallarta.  The foreign tourists have not arrived and all the Mexican tourist left when their kids went back to school.  There is no business,  no jobs and they have no money: so they steal.  They mean us no harm they just need money for food and they believe that anything they take an American can easily replace.  To a Mexican all Americans are rich, even someone like myself.   Tracy (my neighbor) and I have gotten together and made up a plan to stop the theft.  We now think they use the tin roof of the taco stand below her balcony on the side street as it has new dents in it.  We are going to put razor wire on their roof (with their permission of course) then install motion detection flood lights on her balcony and lower patio.  This I have offered to pay half of the cost.  They cannot reach my deck except from hers.  She also wants to put in a motion detection camera.  That may work as a deterrent, but even if it captured the face of the thieves, what can you do with it?   It is a hazard of living in a poor country, but I would not consider living anywhere else.

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