93.12: ROAD TO MEXICO CITY: July 2008

July 13, Sunday AM, Mexico City, Hotel Segovia

• The pictures were all taken on July 12, Saturday. We spent the whole day traveling to Mexico City or Cuidad de Mexico. Like in the US, the capital of Mexico is not in one of the states but rather in its own federal district. It is huge, 14 million people in a mile high bowl surrounded by volcanic cone shaped mountains.

• The rain has been with us off and on the whole trip. It's the tropics. Ten minute shower. Done. Feels good. Things dry up. We were on a toll road after one such shower doing a respectable 50 mph. The sun had come out again but you still needed the wipers to be doing their slow intermittent flop tic tic tic flop thing. Now you need to know that the toll roads are "high" roads. They are built at least 5 feet above the surrounding jungle. Something about drainage. For whatever reason the road got to be 40 feet above and then it plunged, honest to god, like a roller coaster, or better analogy, like the log chute ride. At the bottom was a pond 30 feet wide. I hit the brakes and we cranked the windows up tight and braced ourselves. But we forgot the rear slider window. We took on a gallon of water coming from behind, over our shoulders and splashing as far as our legs. Some people pay for such amusements and say oh boy let's do it again. And I gotta admit it was fun except, oh shit, the maps. Sog city. Dab and daub and keep going.

• The scene at lower left, is a lady doling out toilet paper. The sign says Servicio de baño $2.00. That's pesos, or 20 cents US. She sold miles of the stuff. The inset photo shows my hand holding my purchase from the service sector.

• We left the flat land and climbed into the mountains. The views must have been spectacular but we never saw them. On the contrary we endured fog including a harrowing half hour of winding road through cut-it-with-a-knife gray soup.

• Rainy car trips are good for doing your summer reading homework.

• Boys on a horse-drawn cart: You never see them sitting down. Wouldn't be cool. They ride in the back of pickups, same way. Sometimes manning a machine gun.

• Bull: It's spooky from afar, but it turns out to be a billboard for Magno Osborne enteel exceso, whatever that is. Note to self: Google search. (It’s brandy.)

• Truck: Looks like a load of onions. Note to self: enlarge, look close.

• Housing: In a southeast suburb, coming into town.

• Night Traffic scene: Kind of artsy, I think. It decided to drizzle, streaking the windshield so as to maximize our challenge as we drove into a world class traffic snarl. Snarl and honk and gesticulate and whistle. There are no painted lanes. If you see a space big enough for most of your car, go ahead and claim it, quick. Hannah manned the soggy maps and tour guide book and got us through.

• Green sign: Green signs are your friend.

• Toll Booth: Believe it or not Toll Booths are your friend. I didn't even mind paying for the same toll 3 times when we got turned around and around again. At 85 pesoes a pop that was an expensive lesson but at least we knew where we were.

• We steered for the highly-recommended-for-its cuisine "Zona Rosa" of the city. Sounds pretty doesn't it? We found it alright and arrived on a Saturday night at the height of activity in the "Red Light District". Hannah's not-yet-15-year-old eyes collected way too many impressions, ones she can't wait to tell her underage friends. We parked and walked looking for a hotel. They are everywhere, two per block.

• Wooden Box: The hotel room has no individual room air conditioner. Instead it has a central system with a wooden slider board arrangement that covers the ceiling vent. Hannah could, but the average Mexican, included the kid that schlepped our luggage, is too short and cannot reach it. So it's located over a bed, and ordinarily, I suppose, the vertically challenged person would need to hop up there to adjust the air flow. A noisy hurricane comes out, right down on the sleeper. Felt good though, and it drown out the street noise.

• Hotel Room Painting: Familiar, like home.