Mexico

The flight was long and wet!! I have never been offered so much cold water. This is clearly a new policy aimed at combating deep vein thrombosis. Alcohol on the other hand was strictly rationed.

We were always going to wake early because of the 6 hour time shift, but however deep our sleep it would not have survived the massed drums and bugles outside our hotel window at 05-00AM it is pitch dark outside. Breakfast at 7 on the 7th floor rooftop restaurant overlooking the Zocola. The Zocola is the main square in Mexico City. Vast and bounded by the cathedral, the government palace. A series of gold dealers and our hotel. In the middle is the biggest flag I have ever seen, and as a connoisseur of flags I have seen some pretty big flags. Said flag was being raised to the drums and trumpets and will be so again each morning.
Our breakfast according to the Jules Verne Itinerary is included. This is true, unless you eat any food. The buffet is lavish, delicious fresh fruit with flavoured yoghurt, the best muesli I have ever tasted followed by eggs and bacon sausage and mushrooms. Numerous continental delicacies and if that leaves you with any room there are pork and chicken casseroles rice and a complete array of hot vegetables. Having eaten our fill we find that our inclusive breakfast entitled us to coffee and an omelette.
Outside on the Zocola, hundreds of school children are massed in regimented lines some are twirling flags in the manner I associate with Italians, others are clutching tambourines.
We quickly work out that traffic lights and zebra crossings have no relevance for Mexican drivers and risk our lives crossing the early morning traffic to the centre of the square. The kids are now in even straighter lines with their flags crossed over their chests though the odd tambourine is struggling to break free. We join the end of a long queue to get into the cathedral then decide to do the outside as the queue in going nowhere. Stall holders are setting up in preparation to disposing of large quantities of food, especially blocks of nuts, coloured plastic bath plugs, blankets, fedoras, electrical fittings, sun glasses, dolls and detergents. We view the ruins of an Aztec temple and notice that the queue for the cathedral has vanished. Inside there is a throng who are being herded into position by marshals wearing yellow sashes. A very high proportion of the men are wearing ecclesiastical vestments, they get the best seats. A big mass is about to happen, the organ and choir are doing spurts of warm ups. We exit discretely.

Jose and Miguel pick us up at 10-00 and drive us round the block for 10 minutes before depositing us in the Zocola!?! 100 metres from the hotel. We see a statue of Don Cortez and Montezuma at the place where they met. Montezuma, king of the Aztecs has a bad image with the Mexicans because he surrendered to the Spaniards without a fight. Don Cortez had the luck to turn up clad in armour, riding a horse which the Aztecs had never seen on about the day that their prophets had predicted that the gods would return. They had only been in Mexico City for 200 years having spent about the same length of time wandering through the wilderness looking for the Promised Land. Is all this starting to sound familiar? They decided that an island in the centre of a lake surrounded by mountains was the said Promised Land and set up house or more accurately dozens of temples. As their numbers grew they extended the island then drained the lake. This seemed like a good idea at the time but has caused some interesting civil engineering problems. Their beliefs included some novel ideas, one was that the Sun god fought the Moon god every day and lost but if you made enough human sacrifices the Sun god would recover during the night. I am not sure I can respect two gods who fail to work out that their daily battle is futile. They believed that dying was a good thing and being executed was the reward for winning football matches or coming top of your class. Once executed your heart was torn out and left for the eagles to take to heaven. No one seemed concerned that the eagles ate the heart first. The snake is a good god which is only fair because snakes get a raw deal in most religions. It's not all good news for snakes though because the Mexican flag has a snake being eaten by an eagle. Perhaps the reward for being the best god. Another belief is that the world has been created and destroyed 4 times. When the gods think things are taking a turn for the worse they wipe the slate clean and have another go. They choose a different method of destruction each time. We have had plagues and fire and floods. Still sounds a bit familiar. Their calendar is based on the sun having a 365 day cycle and the moon 320 days. Both reach the same relative position every 52 years so that is when the big times roll. Make a note of 2012 in your diary and don't pay for any 2013 holidays in advance. They had 5 days in a week 4 weeks in a month and 18 months in a year. All these and many more equally interesting facts are portrayed in a set of murals by Diego Rodriguez on the staircase of the government palace.
The gardens of the palace are beautiful and serene. Flowering trees attract blue-black humming birds. 50 kinds of cactus, lawns and fountains. The armed guards on the roof strike dramatic poses when Meg photographs them.

We set off for the Museum and as we arrive, We are in luck because a group of Voladores are about to perform. There are four fliers and one musician in the team. The musician dances on top of the pole playing a whistle and drum while the fliers fling themselves backwards off the top of the pole. Having carefully wound the rope to which they are attached 52 times round the pole. The effect they create is to spin in wider and wider circles lower and lower, hanging head down. It's a sort of graceful bungee jump to music. As the music reaches a climax the flier's heads are within inches of the floor as they unwind the 52nd turn. They then pivot through 180 degrees to well earned applause
The museum building is attractive in itself. The roof is supported by a central pillar but does not touch the walls. So the effect is of a giant mushroom which also acts as a fountain. We are only visiting the Aztec section. We see the original calendar carved on a stone 7 meters in diameter, various bowls for holding hearts. And squat little figures with squashed faces. The jewellery and pots are relatively crude for a civilisation around 1000 years ago. Our departure is delayed by Barry who is purchasing Mexican artefacts for use in a forthcoming school project. Apparently the delay was that the salesman wanted proof of his identity before he would accept dollars in payment however the delay is good because the Voladores are wound up again

Our itinerary gives us the late afternoon free but Meg wants to visit Xocimilko and enough of the rest of the party agree for Jose and Miguel to propose that they take us for $25. Xochimilko is described in the guide books as floating gardens. Well I mean to say, how totally inadequate. When the Aztecs extended the island they did so by building other islands leaving a grid of canals. Most are long since gone but for the area of Xochimilko. Alongside the canals there are indeed market gardens where they grow flowers. We arrive to see the narrow canal solid with empty garishly painted punts that would hold 20 comfortably, Two rows of conventional dining chairs are separated by a long table . We are told to climb across the first 5 punts to reach ours. I speculate that if even half these punts were in use the canal would be punt jammed. Our punt is joined by a man carrying a crate on coronas and our punter batters his way through a dozen more empty punts and manoeuvres round a right angled bend into a slightly wider canal which is indeed punt jammed. Well not quite stationary. There are an awful lot of punts occupied by Mexicans. Family picnics, courting couples, partying teenagers. Then there are the trading punts selling carpets, flowers, refreshments. A pirate punt laden with mariachi lashes itself alongside and serenades us until the are paid. We drink the coronas, enjoy the music, stop to wander round a market garden selling miniature bushes and yellow lilies before battering our way back to the dock. Later we see hundreds more punts moored in back waters. This is a Mexican must.
We arrange to dine with Ian and Sandy; they are statisticians with an organisation that analyses educational statistics. Most of the party are in Education. They ate out last night, Meg and I crashed out. Jose has recommended a place near the hotel but it is closing, it is 8-00pm. After a bit of hunting we find the place they ate last night and apart from being open it serves good food and cheap wine. Eating wise we are being studiously unadventurous at this stage. Back at the hotel we retire to the roof top restaurant for margaritas and coffee.
We are feeling rather full next morning so opt for the omelette. Our first stop today is at the Church of Guadeloupe. It was here, hundreds of years ago that a peasant told his bishop he had seen the Virgin Mary. The bishop was sceptical and said if you see her again, bring proof.
He saw her again, and asked her for something to take to the bishop.
She gave him a bunch of flowers which he wrapped in his cape.
He went to the bishop and showed him the flowers.
First odd thing about this tale is that the flowers were roses, a flower not found in Mexico at that time. Second oddity was that the cloak now had on it the image of a woman. The peasant identified the woman as the one who spoke to him.
They still have the cloak in the church, the colours have not faded, The cloak was examined by scientists in the 1970's, they were unable to identify the dyes used or explain why the fabric has not disintegrated,. They did magnify the image of the face many times and found in the pupil of the eye an image which they conclude must be the reflection of the peasant. What ever else you think you have to admit it is a great story. The tiny original church on the hill was replaced by two much larger ones at the foot of the hill which have been in turn replaced by a massive modern cathedral. Now this is a really clever bit. Outside you find all the tatt that you expect with the tasteless commercialisation of religion. But inside the cathedral it is tasteful and indeed beautiful. It is circular. The cloak is behind the altar but you can approach it by a passage below ground level and inspect it without interfering with the services which are virtually continuous. 95% of Mexicans are church going Catholics.
Next stop is the obligatory craft shop but this one has a redeeming bonus. Pepe is to show us how the Aztecs used cactus. The one he uses if a fairly innocuous sword plant. He can carve a bowl near the base of the leaves which constantly replenishes it self with a sweet liquid if you are thirsty. From the leaves he makes a very serviceable rope, then, by peeling the leaf in a different direction can make paper. With the flowers he can dye the rope purple or yellow. For his next trick he shows us how to work obsidian which is both shiny and brittle. The craft shop specialise in artefacts made from obsidian. They are a pleasant relief after all the tourist tatt we have seen but at £200-£400 they are not what we are looking for and even Barry does not buy anything.

We arrive at Teotihuacán at about the same time as a million Mexicans. Strictly speaking this place is Almec rather than Aztec. The Almec's built two enormous pyramids and some temples then for some unknown reason they deserted the place. The Aztecs when they found they supposed them to be the work of gods because they had no idea how they had been constructed or what purpose they served. That about sums up the position today. Ask 4 guides and you will get 4 theories, but no one really knows. We climb the pyramid of the moon first. Jose suggests that we might like to restrict ourselves to half way up if we intend to do the pyramid of the sun as well as both are very steep and as they are at altitude we may get distressed. Clearly years of guiding has not improved his understanding of the English. He is right though the steps are fearfully steep and there are no hand rails. Steadily even taking judicious rests Meg and I are first up as befits the oldest members of the party. The view is spectacular. The reason for choosing the site is not obvious. There is no river crossing, no obvious source of water, no gap in the mountains. Just two bloody great pyramids in the middle of nowhere. There are many ways down the steep steps most of which put safety before dignity. Crawling backwards or frontwards on your bottom are favourites. Meg and I hold hands and come down forwards outside leg; inside leg ;outside leg; inside leg; keeping it time by singing L'Homme Armee from Jenkins Mass for Peace. Not only is our method quite dignified, it is very fast. We set off for the Sun Jose is sure we will not want to climb this as there are long queues at the bottom. .I think he must have a date tonight. The English love queues. We join the queue. We are allowed onto the pyramid in batches and the reason for the queue soon becomes apparent. The Almec designers were not expecting crowds on this scale. The pyramid of the sun is not four sides consisting of steps, there are plain slopes and staircases. The staircases can accommodate less people the higher you get. 8 abreast at the bottom becomes 4 then 2 then single file. They have designed the bottleneck. They probably worked on the M25 in the Heathrow area. The pauses however do stop you climbing too fast for your own good and the view is even better that from the moon. By the time we get back to the outskirts of the city they have probably moved 100 meters. Mexico City is one of the biggest in the world but its rate and method of expansion prevents anyone from knowing how big it is. If you own land on the outskirts of the city and do not build on it, squatters are entitled to live there. The squatters operate in packs with as many as 100 families settling on a piece of land and erecting temporary dwelling. Then set about building a permanent dwelling around the temporary one. This only takes days and once built the landowner loses all title to the property. Once the area is big enough the city lays on schools, hospitals and sewerage and a bus service so you have a new suburb. The process is continuous.. Jose tells us he will collect us at 3-00 tomorrow for the trip to theairport. Back in our room Meg checks our tickets to find that 3-00 is take off time. There is no response from the emergency telephone number as it is Good Friday which takes precedence over emergencies. We contact the others and agree to take taxis to the airport if the problem is not resolved by mid day tomorrow.

Meg has a nap. I set off to find the post office and Garibaldi piazza. The post office is necessary for the stamps for the postcards which will never arrive and for its own sake. It is a magnificently spacious mansion with beautiful symmetrical pine staircases. Garibaldi piazza is unique. It is the square where the mariachi gather to be hired. Sombreroed guitarists in narrow trousers decorated with metal strum a few cords whist lounging against statues of mariachi past. Trumpeters sound arpeggios to the pigeons sitting on the statues heads. One statue actually has a statue of a pigeon on the hat he is flourishing. We retrace my steps in the evening with Ian and Sandy. Meg is being quiet; I am in a certain amount of trouble. After last night Meg had decided that Ian was close to the most objectionable individual on the planet and was not going out with him again. I had not realised this and had announced at the end of our trip that I fancied eating in Garibaldi piazza. Only Ian had agreed. Meg pointed out that once Ian had joined us we were guaranteed that no one else would. Our progress to the square was slow because Sandy wanted too photograph everything and Ian videoed even more. We did pass one place of interest, the Opera House, remember my comment about the interesting effect of building on a drained lake? Well the opera House has sunk about 3 metres and can now be reached by a flight of steps. A nearby church is even more spectacular because its twin towers now splay away from each other. The square itself was disappointingly lacking in life. The Mexican habit of eating meat casseroles for breakfast, three course lunches at 3-00pm leaves them without an appetite in the evening and garibaldi piazza is no different from the Zocola. We have a beer in a pavement cafe then are enticed into a restaurant with live music. It is deafening so we leave and go to the one I fancied all the time It is empty we order meals and the house red. The band arrives and plays 1 decibel quieter than the place we just left. As we are the only people in the place they agree to drop the volume a grudging 2 more decibels but not enough to have us order a second course. The first course was tasty and cheap but the bill is large. For the house red he has given us the most expensive wine on his list. We complain fruitlessly. It was quite a good wine and he presumably knows that no one ever comes to his restaurant twice.
As we battle our way back to the Zocola thorough crowded streets. The restaurants are closed but there seems to be a lot of customers about. However they are not looking for food they are going to church. I told you that 92% on Mexicans are church going Catholics, well they are not going to church, they are going to 7 churches which is the number a good Mexican must worship in on Good Friday. In the Zocola a couple of fireworks are let off, we can hear a band in the distance. A large procession enters then tours and exits the square. The Stations of the Cross are portrayed on floats that are being pushed by hand. Many carry candles. The fireworks become suitably spectacular. Ian is keen to start a serious drinking session; we join them for 1 then head for our room.
At breakfast we learn that Steve and Gill have got through at 9-00pm and sorted out Jose. We arrived for breakfast simultaneously with a large party of large Americans, Our waiter keeps apologising for failing to bring us our omelette and eventually tells us to have the buffet. At the check out desk I attempt to pay for the buffet we had by mistake but the senorita considers this to be too complicated.
Jose drops us at the airport far too early so I have plenty of time to plough though my boring book. The flight takes us close to Popocatapetl and over a mainly deserted mountainous landscape. Oaxaca is very attractive, the hostal da loria is a three storey terracotta hacienda built round a palm filled courtyard. Luis wants to take to see the town in ten minutes. The church is a paradox.
Normally I like my churches plain and rococo leases me cold. They have decorated every inch of Santa Domingo's in gold but the individual decorations are small which creates a very attractive effect.
The convent next door is even more attractive. The building itself in plain and beautifully proportioned. It has a cool quiet cloister and overlooks a botanical garden. It houses Zapotec treasures, really attractive jewellery and stylish artefacts, much more like the Egyptians than the Aztecs.

There is a religious procession in the street led by individuals in purple Klu Klux Klan outfits. They are whirling large football rackets which is slightly odd because it is called a silent procession. Luis tour ends in the Zocola which is really two squares that meet at one corner. Both are enhanced by beautiful trees. One square has the main cathedral and loads of vendors selling balloons. The other is surrounded by bars and restaurants. They are thronged with families milling about. We visit the local market where Meg buys a plate showing the sun and moon. We later hear that Americans staying in the hotel were robbed in the market by thieves who cut away their pockets with razor blades. Meg has a list of recommended eating places and a desire not to eat with Ian so we set off early and are delighted to find that top of the list is a place with a first floor restaurant overlooking the Zocola. We get a table in prime position and have a thoroughly entertaining, not to say delicious meal. Chicken in a bitter chocolate sauce and a wine as good as last night's at a quarter of the price. The entertainment comes at all angles. Inside are the house mariachi who play and sing beautifully, we buy the CD. Below in the Zocola we have strolling mariachi. Drummers, acrobats and even Bolivian pipers. All the people strolling around are families. Each group has children. Some are extended families, all are having a really good time the atmosphere is uplifting.
Today's cultural trip is to Mitla. It is delayed slightly by me forgetting my rucksack, and by Sandy who keeps asking Luis to stop so she can be sick. At Mitla are a series of rectangular buildings decorated in geometrical patterns. Pretty impressive in themselves until you realise that they are the Mexican answer to dry stone walling! No mortar has been used in their construction. Both the buildings and the decorations have been pre shaped and slotted together like intricate 3D jigsaws. You could get your temple in a flat pack long before Ikea.
Luis ignores our protests and takes us to a carpet factory, we buy nothing and it costs him his tip, which is a bit hard because the next site is terrific.
At Monte Alban, the Zapotecs flattened the summit of the mountain before constructing their temples, observatory and quidditch pitch. This quidditch pitch has vertical walls and the massive stone rings are fully 10 metres high. Luis tries interpreting the carvings but it seems like anybody's guess. The skulls may mean it was a cemetery, or where they sacrificed prisoners or memorials to slain heroes. Many of the figures are disfigured. That could be a high percentage of deformed citizens or a poor artist. We sit under a tree admiring the view and I leave my binoculars. They are still there 10 minutes later when I retrace my steps. The museum on the site is largely uninteresting when compared with the site itself. I buy a tape of Mexican music which has been drastically reduced and on arriving home discover why they could not sell it.
We return to last night's restaurant which is just as good. Later in the Zocola we join Stephanie and Barry we join them for Tequilas and Margaritas while the strolling vendors sell us bookmarks and a pot. During the night I feel very very sick, in fact I feel I have sickness and dihorreah but everything is staying inside me. Good job that tomorrow is essentially a quiet day flying to Medira via Mexico City. The delay to the first flight uses up most of our transfer time so we leave the plane at a run only to find that the plane onto which we are transferring is the one we just got off.
Once again we have not been charged the internal taxes.
Meg orders a Cuba Libra and gets half a bottle of rum with some coke. I enjoy a tasteless cheese sandwich
As we leave the plane at Medira the air is stifling. It is 40degrees.
"This is what we all came to Mexico for" contends Ian
No one answers.
"Medira" we are told "is tranquillo" not need to fear walking the streets after dark.
Vendors here take no for an answer very politely.
The hotel Mission is a bit grim incorporation a sensationally unimaginative use of brown. Sparse to no decoration, sockets falling off the walls and air conditioning that is not up to it. Still you must look on the bright side every one else says their rooms smell. After a while we even suss out the air conditioning.
It is well situated for the Zocola which is more than can be said for Los Alamedas the place Meg has chosen to eat. We follow the grid plan of the town for a mile or so to find an excellent Mexican meal. I am feeling a lot better. After the meal we head for the town hall where there is to be a folk happening. Sure enough there are dancers a plenty. Men in white wearing fedoras, women in white embroidered with brightly coloured flowers. They wear flowers in their hair. The stepping is intricate and meticulous with lots of feints. The movement is unimaginative, the band is very lively and they entertain a large crowd until the rain starts at 9-55.
We have a final drink before we go to bed and I am very very sick.
Meg sets off with the group for the tour to Uxmal
I elect to have the day off , after breakfast, I am feeling a little better again, and having seen them off I lie down on the bed. Four hours later I wake fully refreshed. After a stroll round the square I take the tourist bus which convinces me that most of the best bits of Medira can be seen on foot, but it is a pleasant breezy ride. I watch Manchester United beating Leicester City; matches have been going well for Bolton over Easter. Then I set off to buy a flag having failed to get a used one.
Meg enjoyed Uxmal and We eat at Los Alamedas again I really am feeling better and this time the improvement is not imaginary.
Today we have a day off so I take Meg to the more interesting areas I found yesterday which are mainly street markets where we acquire grandchildren's T shirts Meg cannot find a yellow sun and moon plate we may have to repaint the kitchen.
Tonight's entertainment is supposed to be dancing to a big band in the street. We are directed to a theatre where an aged guitarist accompanied by an even older guy on the tom toms impress us but have the Mexicans laughing appreciatively. We sneak out between numbers and set off for the big band. We can hear them some distance away. The square is crammed with dancing Mexicans. They all move to the Latin rhythms but they do it on the spot with virtually no progression. There are one other European couple and us we stick out like lighthouses head and shoulders above the rest. Like all the other events we have been to this stops abruptly at 10-00. It was just in time because during the last samba I started to feel queasy. Meg forgoes her lemon Daiquiri to put me to bed. The third night we eat at a new restaurant at a nearby table are the other couple on the trip. We have to pay £2.50 for our entertainment but we do get a box in the theatre which we share with Jill and Stephen. More dramatic dancing, including a very Morris like performance by men wearing Inca feathered headdresses and holding hankies. They made very galley-like movements and lots of leaps. The dances often tell stories and involve some acting. The show finishes promptly at 10-00 even when you pay for it.
Our final day is taking us to Chichenitza; I am completely better and eat a hearty breakfast. Ian announces that we had better give him our addresses if we wanted copies of his holiday video. We promptly change the subject. Our drive takes us through jaguar infested forests. Vultures soar overhead, presumably waiting for the jaguars to leave their kill. During the trip Ian tells us of their current statistical analysis which is trying to determine if a programme to give free fruit to schoolchildren is effective. Some children are given free fruit and a control group are not. The fruit consumption of both groups are noted before during and after the trial. The results should be available in a couple of years. After listening patiently for 15 minutes, Barry announces them as didn't eat fruit before will eat it while it is free and stop as soon as it isn't. 15 seconds to sum up a years statistics.
The Mayans were at Chichenitza all the time the Aztecs and Zapotecs, the Almecs and the Spaniards were coming and going. The structures are similar to what we have already seen. Pyramids.

Temples, an Observatory, a ball park. The main pyramid is the best piece of civil engineering we have seen. The steps are the steepest yet and though we go up and down forwards singing to keep in step, as usual we are holding hands rather tighter than before.
Our buffet lunch is in what looks like a motorway service station. The food does nothing to destroy the impression. Half a dozen youngsters do the bottle on your head dance looking bored to death.
Our final entertainment is a free serenade in another square. There is singing, playing and poetry. The announcements are in Spanish and English. We leave at about 9-30 as the star of the show starts to sing very loudly. Apparently after we left she did the
"Is there anyone here from Mexico City?" routine.
The journey back was always going to be long. There is a delay in boarding during which I inform Barry that I have ordered Ian's video but given him Barry's address, he claims that this is a remarkable coincidence because he did the same for us, Shortly after we started to taxi your pilot speaking announces that we had on board some cargo that had been loaded by mistake. During the two hours that it took to sort things out we were disconnected from the mains electricity and the air conditioning would not work. It was a pretty sweaty group of passengers that alighted at Heathrow but it was yet another great holiday