Another Note From Mexico City

Since writing two mornings ago, I have found my way back into the Mexico City that I have known and enjoyed. This with little or no effort, as well. Just being here, walking about as the spirit needs and the body demands, I sink back into a rhythm that works for me in any place that I have visited. In Mexico City we park ourselves close to an enormous mall on Reforma, about a half a block south of the intersection with Insurgentes. In quality this mall is on a par with Yorkdale and the Eaton’s Centre but is considerably more dramatic in its design. It’s a grounding spot for us, one where we can find familiar amenities in the midst of this diverse city. It’s food court gives the usual array of McDonald’s, Burger King, Chinese, Japanese, and Mexican fare, as well as my favourite: an excellent salad bar where the young ladies toss me up a made-to-measure feast of greens that I can enjoy on the spot or take back to the hotel to have with my large cup of tea. There are other restaurants in the complex that cater to the more distinguishing palate. On the top floor is a multi-screen Cinamex, playing some of the films that we have missed since leaving Toronto. We have been to three of them since arriving—two good, one, not so much. Besides, in this lovely mall is an outlet for a very excellent gelato company, whose wares I sample daily! What’s not to like about the place?

I would not like to mislead you into thinking that our days are spent at the mall – not at all, but it is a spot that we return to after explorations of other areas of the city. Yesterday I passed much of the morning talking with someone in Toronto and then reading (the Globe and Mail on internet) and hearing (CNN on TV) about the current happenings in the Ukraine. Odessa was one port of call on the 1973 USSR tour that Martha and I took with Maurice and his band of all-too-merry students from Humber College. We will be in that entire region in October when we sail from Istanbul with Celebrity for an 11 day cruise of the Black Sea. Ports will include Sochi (of Olympic fame), Odessa, and Sevastopol and Yalta, both in the Crimea. I presume that the current state of tensions will have resolved themselves by that period as I am not one to believe that Putin seriously intends to annex the Crimean region. But we shall see. Whatever happens, it is history in the making even as it is in some ways history all over again as the great powers of the west (formerly the British Empire in particular, now the EU and the USA) vie with Russia (formerly the Russian Empire) for mastery of the regions that border their spheres of influence.

In the late morning I dressed myself appropriately (more or less) for walking about in the sunny, temperate climate of MC and took a leisurely walk along the wide, tree-lined Passeo de la Reforma almost to the place where it melds into Chapultepec Park. On the eastern side of Reforma is the Canadian-owned Four Seasons Hotel, a lovely six or eight storied rectangular building which houses a large inner courtyard garden and restaurant. We stumbled upon this place a few years ago during our last visit to MC, enjoying a wonderful lunch set in its fabulous surround. And so there we met yesterday shortly after noon, to once again enjoy its opulent and sophisticated beauty. It did not disappoint. The food was delicious; the service excellent in an unhurried, unobtrusive but always kindly manner; the garden an oasis of delight. One other tourist couple appeared shortly before we left, however, the other clientele were impeccably dressed men clearly enjoying business connections over their drinks and meals – all warmth and friendliness. One other nearby table hosted three well-dressed ladies a bit younger than me, having fun as their conversations covered details probably not unlike those explored by my own lunch buddies and myself. I was aware of them and their clothes, suitable for what is their winter and I could see that one of them who faced me had a similar curiosity about someone like me done up in summer wear a la Indian cotton. This was confirmed when a burst of gaseous odour briefly assailed our senses as some lamps above the garden were lit. The lady opposite me made a face to indicate disgust with the odour but made it directly at me, accompanied by a friendly laugh, both of which I reciprocated. A brief non-verbal connection; very pleasant.

After our undeniably expensive lunch, we hopped on a city bus – 6.5 pesos each – about 50 cents, and went north along Reforma to Hidalgo. Here I had hoped to connect with one of the new Metrobus lines that have dedicated lanes like many of our current streetcars. Consulting our large metro map and discussing our conundrum with a few helpful passers-by, we established our actual location – not where I had hoped to be at all. As we had already paid to travel on the 3^rd line, rather than the 4th that I had aimed for, we decided to ride it south back down to the Zona Rosa and not too far from our hotel. Home again, home again. Some snacks from the corner 7-11, reading, a lovely nap and then off to the mall to buy salad suppers. Today we will return to the Zocalo area and perhaps have a ride on the 4^th line that circumscribes that entire section of the city. Many joys to sample in MC. And tomorrow: off to Toronto and all that that entails!