Once upon a time, I walked the entire length of Avenida Reforma, including the Calzada de los Misterios. I took a photo every 8 steps or so and created a video out of the hundreds of snaps when I got back home. To be honest, the final product did not meet my hopes or expectations. But never mind. I still managed to photograph all the monuments along Calzada de los Misterios. From memory, I think they were something to do with pilgrimages to the Basilica de Guadaloupe. Probably. That was a mighty long walk. Too long for one day. I had to split it into two. It became even longer when I wandered off the the other end of Reforma for a good couple of kilometres, unaware that the road had actually ended some time back.
When I left Mexico in 2011, the city was making some effort to spruce up a few of its landmarks, historic streets and monuments, The Revolution monument perhaps being the best example. I rather hope they got around, or will get around, to fixing up the La Raza monument. It was looking very much the worse for wear the last time I ventured past. It had certainly seen better days, as shown in the photo below…
The date? It’s the 27th June 2010. The place? The FIFA FanFest in the Zocalo, Mexico City. The time? Just before 10am in Mexico. Just before 4pm in South Africa. The model? Well, that’s me. Fully kitted out in my England top, waiting anxiously for the World Cup match between Germany and England to kick off. One of very few Englishmen or women there and well outnumbered by the Germans. As usual. But we are optimistic. You know. World War II, 1966 and all that. It’s the first knockout stage. Continue reading
Earthquakes are part and parcel of Mexico City’s past, present and future. Some parts of the world wait for ‘the big one’. CDMX simply waits for another big one. The wait is never long. We did not have to worry much about relatives. The first we heard of the quake was just a couple of minutes after the event when Mrs P’s dad called to say he was ok. We had no reason till then to think he might not be. The remaining friends and Continue reading
Most cities have an architectural landmark that is appropriated as an icon. More often than not, it’s a tower of sorts or at least something that towers over the surrounding area. London has the Elizabeth Tower. Paris the Eiffel Tower. New York, the Empire State Building. And Mexico City has the Angel of Independence. A golden lady with a generous bust and Red Bull style wings over-looking the metropolis from a lofty perch. Her image is used on taxis, tourist literature and all sorts of Continue reading
A while ago I came across a Facebook post title, ‘If You Had To Choose One Museum In Mexico City, what would it be?’, with the basic premise that the visitor will be in the city for just three days. I never got around to putting in my suggestion, but I enjoyed reading other people’s recommendations. I’ve seen my fair share of Mexico City’s museums. In fact, there can’t be that many people who’ve been to more of the city’s museums than I. Continue reading
There are dates that stick in the memory. Birthdays. Deathdays*. Terrorist attacks. Anniversaries. February 16th is a date that sticks in my memory. In 2011, on that date, I got on a plane and flew back to the UK. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Have I made myself clear? I hope so.
Life in Mexico was fun. Every day was an adventure. Every single day. Without exception. In the UK, every day is either a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Preferably one of the latter two, which might turn out to have an adventure of sorts in store. Sometimes. True, there are benefits to living in the UK. There are no doubts about that. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to turn on a tap and not really be certain whether any water would come out. But certain that if it did, you shouldn’t really drink it. Although I did drink it on more than one occasion without any noticeable side effect. Tis all but part of the adventure.
Since returning to the UK, I’ve droned on about Mexico City to anyone who will listen. I’ve also droned on to anyone who won’t listen. That’s one of the benefits of droning on. It doesn’t really matter if anyone listens or not. It’s a pitiful form of self therapy, but it relieves the withdrawal pangs.
It doesn’t, I fear, give anyone a real idea about why Mexico is such a fabulous little patch of planet Earth. I’ve shared videos over the years on this blog, and I watch some of them sometimes. I sometimes think that opening YouTube and entering Mexico City in the search box is the equivalent of a smoker having a sneaky cigarette when he’s trying to quit. Naughty but nice.
Sadly, most videos show only one facet of the city. It either dwells on the poverty or crime, or on the history and developed parts of the city. If ever there has been one video that almost, almost, captures the Mexico City I lived in, it’s the one I’ve embedded below. Perhaps you’ve seen it before. But it’s so well done, it’s nice to see again, isn’t it. It’s a government sponsored creation. Who’d have thunk that a political/tourist motivated bit of work would best capture the Mexico City that I lived in? No, it misses out a lot of the warts. But truth be told, I did my best to miss out on the warts too, when I lived there.
- Deathdays. Why does no one use this word? It’s such a logical choice. I claim copyright.
Different cultures deal with death in different ways. In Mexico, of course, there is a special day for the departed – Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. But then Mexico has a special day for every type of person, living or dead. The English method is simpler. A short service, then back home for some triangle sandwiches and crisps and a few beers. Then back to work.
Although that’s the short story. Wherever you walk in Britain you’ll see an inviting bench, ready to take the weight off your feet. The longer you’ve been walking, the more inviting it is. Benches are every where. Town centres, woodlands, along paths, in gardens. Everywhere. And most of them will have a small rectangular metal plaque. Upon which is a dedication to a loved on. It’s a memorial and a seat. We are such a practical bunch, us Brits.
I never met Bill. But what a great name. It was a fine view too. I always read the plaques. It’s funny to think that there’s a life long story behind each one of them. Many of them mention how the person used to love sitting there for hours. I sometimes can’t help but be grateful they’re gone, or they’d be sitting there still, leaving no place for me to rest my weary bones. I used to wonder how you go about getting a memorial on a bench. So I ‘googled’ it. It’s a council run thing, unsurprisingly. In Bournemouth you dial 01202 451781 an go for option 1.
I’d like a bench with a plaque in my memory one day. Preferably a day quite some time from now, if possible. Does Bournemouth Council allow a little wit or sarcasm on the plaques? I’m guessing ‘stabbed to death with a spoon here whilst admiring the view’ is probably out of the question, although it would be fun to spook a few people. Humourous plaques do exist though, as can be seen here, here and here.
Where should my bench be? Perhaps along Gloucester Road in London. Or across from the British Museum. Both great places to sit and people watch. But no, I think if I am going to sit anywhere for a long time, it should be in Mexico DF. Where the sun shines its warm rays on the city every day of the year. Near the Obregon monument would be nice. Or along Reforma, maybe? No, my preference would be Avenida Alvaro Obregon. My favourite street in the whole city.
I don’t need the plaque to say anything much. It could state how much I always liked a shapely Latina derrière. Lechery beyond the grave appeals to me. But it should certainly be in English, just to bewilder the locals. Gary Denness, 19.10.1972 – 20.10.2073. Lived past a hundred and still never saw England win a bloody World Cup. Such is life. The dates are by far the most important thing…
The London taxi, properly known as a Hackney Carriage, is the best in the world. Really. It has no rival. Is this news surprising? It is news. Not my opinion. From comments I’ve read around the world, it appears so. Which I found surprising. Unlike most taxis around the world, the Hackney Carriage is a purpose built vehicle. Unlike most cities around the world, the drivers know every nook and cranny of the city they serve. Their training course, the Knowledge, is thorough. The charges come from a regulated meter, and aren’t too outrageous. And the cars are comfortable.
I tip my invisible hat to ye, Hackney Carriage drivers of London. Never was a taxi so easy to get into and out of, nor swallow so many bags, nor sit so many people comfortably. It also looks fantastic. Along with soldiers wearing bearskin hats, red post and phone boxes, double decker buses and Big Ben, the Hackney Carriage is an instantly recognised London icon.
Where did Mexico come? Tied fifth, a great result. I don’t know whether to be surprised at this result or not. Taxis in Mexico City have the worst reputation ever! And yet, providing you’re not going too far (it’s a big city, and I’ve been in more than one taxi where the driver got lost on a south to north jaunt) then it’s cheap, cheerful and there’s a plentiful supply of taxis to choose from. You do need a choice though. Some times the ‘meter isn’t working’. Which is taxilingo for ‘it’s a gringo, he’s got the cash, why not milk him of as much of it as possible’. Which didn’t work on me. It shouldn’t work on anyone….just take the next damned taxi that will come along in about…oh, say about fifteen seconds?
More than half a million Brits are boarding flights this Easter. To anywhere but here. Spring has officially started, but the snow drifts burying half the country suggest that winter has decided to overstay her welcome this year. It is bleeding freezing. A few brave cherry trees are blossoming, but the flora remains in stubborn hibernation. I wish I were one of the six hundred thousand headed to the sun. Alas, I am not. I will have to make do with dreaming of the sun.
Anyone care to guess where in the world I’d rather like to be sunning myself? I’m offering no prizes. I have been consoling myself with a few videos of my favourite city and country. I’ve posted loads of them over the years. The Bicentenario series by Televisa. The wonderful rendition of Cielito Lindo for the Banamex advert. The very slick advert by the Mexico City government. There’s lots of old reels available on YouTube too. Remember the 1940’s video in colour that did the rounds a few years back? There’s a couple of black and white ones too. And one from the 1950’s too.
Or are you just after the hard facts? Perhaps this National Geographic video will be to your liking. But I found the video I’ve embedded below the most interesting. It’s a BBC documentary, made in 1999. I’m sure that’s Taxquena in the opening few minutes. This is a period that put most residents of DF, at least those that can remember it, in fear of their city. I knew so many people who had horror stories of crime in Mexico City. Nine out of ten of them came from the mid to late 90’s.
When I first arrived in 2003, things were calmer, but still edgier than they are now. The doors of the Hostel Cathedral which almost abuts the Zocalo would have its doors shut not long after dark, and a security guard or two toting shotguns. Those days are happily gone. The hostel has its doors open till late at night and you can walk three blocks from the Zocalo without getting robbed. Although, to be fair, there is still one direction you’re not best advised to stroll off in…
Seventy two years ago today, a young revolutionary-minded Spaniard strolled into an office in a Coyoacan home and plunged a ice axe into the head of an old revolutionary Russian. A day later, Leon Trotsky died as a result of the wounds inflicted by the pick axe. His home today remains largely as it looked on that summers day in 1940. The photo below is one I took in 2009 of his desk, where he sat when the the fatal blow was struck. Although these days, the people sneaking around the compound are tourists, rather than Soviet assassins. It’s one of my favourite museums in Mexico City, yet doesn’t get the footfall it deserves. they really need a decent multi-language website, perhaps.
Political fugitives still exist in the 21st century. The most famous, or infamous, of which would be Wikileaks founder Julian Assange. I’m not sure I approve of what he’s done. Although I certainly don’t entirely disapprove, either. But regardless, I support his fight against extradition on two grounds. Firstly, I would not trust the Swedes to not extradite him to the US – and I most definitely do not trust the United States to afford Assange either a fair trial or even civilised treatment.
Iraqi jails, Guantanamo Bay and the incarceration of Bradley Mannings have somewhat tarnished the reputation of the US judicial system. Further tarnished, I should say – any country still operating the death penalty is a bit backward in my opinion. China, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia….and the US. It’s not a good list to be in. Secondly, I do not like the way successive British governments have implemented and acted upon extradition treaties.
I am seriously disappointed in the way the British government has approached the impasse that has been created by the Ecuadoran government granting Assange political asylum. Threats to burst into the embassy and take Assange by force? That’s simply not on. It’s what you’d expect of a tinhat dictatorship. I really don’t believe it will happen. It won’t have much public support here. I hope it doesn’t happen – it’d be a national embarrassment and would reflect poorly on us as a member of the international community. I would hope it would be the death knell of our current government too. Perhaps the Liberals will grow a pair, pull out of the coalition and force a general election.
I’ve pretty much given up on the current government doing anything to help out the economy. As far as the average Joe is concerned, it’s just about watching the pennies and hoping the pounds will take care of themselves and not turn into Euros. I think most of us don’t fully appreciate exactly where all our money goes and just how much (or how little) expendable income we actually have.There are personal finance tools available, one of which I have been trying out. It is quite amazing how much money leaves my wallet on frivolous purchases. A proper money management tool really brings it home. It also makes it easier to see savings that can be made. There’s no need to wait until you are in the dire financial straits of the Greeks to start economising.
A link to this was posted to my Facebook page the other day, with the promise that it would bring back memories. It sure did. I’m looking forward to my commutes when I return. I never tired of the metro. Although I did avoid the busiest parts of the line in rush hour whenever possible. Life gets crazy in rush hour.
The video was taken by a chap called Santiago Arau – you should check out his Vimeo page for a few more pretty cool Mexico videos. I do like Vimeo. I didn’t renew my subscription with them because I simply didn’t have the cash at the time. I’d sell them a nice bit of ad space on my blog – say, for about what it costs for a years sub to Vimeo! Out of interest, has anyone ever signed up for Vimeo, or gone and bought a Pro account on the basis of my blog? I know I did get a few enquiries…
I don’t often dedicate a whole blog post to pimping someone else’s blog. But I’ll make an exception today. I suspect it’ll have limited appeal – it’s a niche blog. It’s one guy’s project to document every metro station in Mexico City – the MCM Project. I almost typed ‘in DF’ then, but of course certain parts of the Metro go beyond the Federal Districts borders. It’s in English and Spanish, by the by.
Anyone who’s read any of my older posts will know I loved the metro. I loved it because it was efficient. I loved it because it was cheap. I loved it for the separate world that seems to exist there. I loved it for the art and obscure wonders that can be found there if you look hard enough. Every journey was an adventure. It’s a truly wonderful system.
And, in case you’d forgotten or never known, I hold the world record for covering the entire network in the shortest time. Admittedly, as I’m the only person (as far as I’m aware) that has taken up this challenge, I only had to do it to claim the record. When the new line opens, I’ll have to do it again. It’s the rules.
But anyway, I digress. If you’re ready for a tour of Mexico City, station by station, then this is the blog for you. When he left a comment on my blog recently, I bet he had no idea that he’d bumped into such a kindred spirit. Nor that he’d bumped it someone who’d already done his entire project in little more than ten hours! But I never did document the system in half the depth he’s doing. I’m on his virtual carriage for the ride.
Moving back to Mexico needs planning. Short term, I pretty much know what needs to happen and how things will go. Long term? I am, after all, planning to settle permanently. Do I want to teach English for the rest of my life? I could probably scrape by comfortably enough. But I’d like to embark on something slightly more challenging, and preferably a good deal more profitable. What to do?
I’ve had a number of ideas. But there is one that stands out. Open a tea shop. A Little English Tea Shop. There’s a lot to commend the idea. The average start up in Mexico lasts two years. Except those serving up food. They have an average life expectancy of eleven years. I like those numbers.
The idea of a Little English Tea Shop appeals for a number of other, more important, reasons. It’s something that can start off small, and something that can easily grow with success. Hell, I could start off with a market stall on Alvaro Obregon. It’s something that would have a unique twist on the average coffee shop. We’d have to sell coffee, of course. Hot chocolate too. But tea would be the selling point. English tea, herbal tea, every tea. We’d serve it in tea pots. And in winter, we’d clothe the tea pots with a tea cosy.
Scones too. Lots of scones. With jam and clotted cream. We could sell bags of scones to take away. Tubs of clotted cream too. And jars of real English jams. I’d serve up other sugary English desserts too. I make a mean Apple Crumble. And who can resist a Spotted Dick with custard? I’ve tried out my custard on students. They found it most agreeable. Mexicans do have a sweet tooth too. I had thought of cupcakes too, but it appears I’ve been beat to that market. But then again, I think English cupcakes might have added appeal.
They’ll take away bags of tea in decorative little packs as well. Hot chocolate too. Mexicans invented hot chocolate. The English turned it into a solid bar for eating. Then we made a drinkable version, and we do that pretty good. It’ll be a bit like selling sand back to the Saudis, but I’m game for a challenge. Besides, I’ll have a nice selection of out of date English magazines and newspapers with BBC Radio 2 playing softly in the background.
This would be just the beginning. We would be selling on Englishness. Our ceramics industry has gone from one that supplied the world, to a borderline cottage enterprise. But we still make great ceramics. We could sell dinner sets and plates of a multitude of designs. With commemorative issues for Beatrix Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Wales and the other royals who get wed or dead. It’s be pricey and exclusive stuff.
If it sells it’ll be profitable. Having seen the silly fortunes that the growing middle-class spend on inferior crap in Palacio and Liverpool, I am confident it is a viable proposition. I just need the location. Someone small but visible in Coyoacan or Colonia Roma would make a nice start. But I guess a space in a mall like Perisur would be where the money is at. But anyway. It’s something for me to ponder. The photo below looks great. I took it on Portabello Road in London. I could see it working well in a trendy part of DF though.
I love this video. The owner of this Vimeo account released another great video last year which went viral in the Mexpat community. This new one is just as good if you ask me. And worth watching full screen. I wish I had the talent/ patience/ equipment to make a video like this. I miss Mexico City. A lot. If you’re tired of hearing me say that, then pity my work colleagues who get a daily earful of my pining. But I will be back. And even if you have little interest in Mexico City, the videos are both worth watching, for their creative attributes alone.