Mexico City to Oaxaca Coast

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Who would have thought that we would find Mexico to be a country with an unparallelled depth of history and culture? Possibly anyone who has been to Latin America, but that did not include us before we commenced this trip.

To be honest our arrival had not been too auspicious.

I had been trying to memorise the line "Cienta ochenta dias, por favor" on the flight over, for the purposes of gaining the maximum entry time at immigration. As it was, the welcoming officer stamped my passport before I had a chance to say anything, and we were in, with the full 180 days to boot.

Our rucksacks were not so lucky, as it turned out, having been sent on a different plane to us.

This was clearly not an uncommon event as the Continental Airlines lost luggage man was ready and waiting next to the belt.

I gave him the address of the hotel I planned to turn up at, and hoped for the best.

Fortune was on our side as the hotel had a room AND our bags had been delivered to reception by the following morning. Our relief was soon tempered when it became clear that they had been comprehensively rifled (by customs, I assume) with the loss of 3 packets of cigarettes and a new pair of sunglasses.


At least we were free to get on with getting our first impressions of Mexico City, and what good first impressions they were.

Our 'budget' hotel was only a stones throw from the Zocalo, the central plaza which is the very heart of the city.

This is one of the worlds largest city squares, more than 220 metres along each side.

Apart from an enormous flagpole, it is normally a bare square of tarmac, but on this occasion they were erecting a temporary structure for an art exhibition.

The four sides are dominated by grandiose buildings, some started in the 16th century, some completed in the 18th century, but mostly constructed in the 17th century and all purposefully impressive.

The imposing Metropolitan Cathedral sits adjacent to the National Palace and opposite the Federal Government building.

So you can imagine, we left our hotel after breakfast on a cold, crisp morning and straightaway came upon this. It was a good start.

It's not called the Centro Historico for nothing. The architectural zone spreads out from the Zocalo in all directions where it has been adapted into modern life.

Shops, museums, galleries, cafes, hole-in-the-wall taco bars and unblemished blue skies contributed to a vibrant city atmosphere.

Of course, all this architecture is Spanish in style and origin.

By the time the Spanish arrived in 1519, this region had already been at the heart of several historical empires, culminating with the Aztecs, who sited a city of, perhaps 300,000 people here.

When the Spanish arrived the Aztec King, Moctezuma, was unsure whether their leader, Hernan Cortes, might be a reincarnated god, and so acted indecisively. As events unfolded, Cortes, who came to shore with 550 men, brought about the downfall of the Aztec empire.

The Spanish razed the Aztec capital and built their own, the centre of Nueva Espana, right on top of it.

History could have been so different if the Aztecs had just knocked off the conquistadors when they had the chance.


About 500 metres west of the Zocalo stands the Torre Latinoamericana (Latinamerica Tower), in the 1950's Latin Americas tallest building.

We took the lift up to the 44th floor. A lift attendant sits in a tall chair and presses the buttons. She spends her days reading inspirational passages from the bible - at least she did when we were there.

From the top you look down on all the buildings you spent the previous day looking up at and think 'How can they justify charging me £9 for a taxi when the airport is only over there?'


Now fully in tourist mode we bought a 2 day ticket for the open topped bus. This does a 4 hour loop around notable parts of the city accompanied by an interesting, though unmemorisable, commentary.

So we saw some statues, some monuments and, having alighted at the zoo, some giant pandas eating bamboo. This was the first zoo, outside of China to successfully breed giant pandas.

We also passed the National Auditorium, where they do grand scale theatrical productions. Currently playing were Bella Y La Bestia (Beauty and The Beast) and Los Monologos De La Vagina (some other clap-trap). Didn't fancy it.

Even from the top of a bus Mexico city assails you with its art.

Statues are plinthed at regular intervals along the sides of the main roads.
Small plazas feature fountains and worked stone.

Despite its age the city is spacious and well planned.

We didn't see any grotty slum areas, despite the city being home to one sixth of the countries population of 105 million.

Contrary to reports the air felt clean to breathe, probably due to anti-emission legislation taken here in recent years. It was only as we climbed into the mountains surrounding the city that the grey layer of atmospheric smog became evident across the valley below.

The bus journey from Mexico City to Puebla took about 3 hours, of which the first hour consisted of exiting the environs of Mexico City itself.

On first acquaintance I was struck by the similarities between the two cities.

Puebla is also centred around a Zocalo flanked by classical buildings and a grand cathedral. (By extension, I will not be surprised to learn that this is a standard pattern for all Spanish built towns and cities as we progress). These buildings house an assortment of cafes and restaurants, facing out onto the tree-lined plaza giving the place a welcoming, laid back appeal.

You can sense the presence of money. Beautiful people in expensive clothes are out to be seen, buying cappuccino and kissing the air by their friend’s cheeks.

It was most pleasant sitting here and watching the world go by, though I noticed that our coffee consumption had rocketed to unhealthy levels.

Being an historic town there is a wealth of museums and old houses to view.

As luck would have it, many of these are free on Tuesdays, and we were able to wander round and get a dose of culture on the cheap.

One of these was housed in a 16th-century hospital set up, as I recall, by a concerned Spanish monk.

There was a real need for medical care as, amongst other things, the Spanish brought smallpox and various other poxes with them to the extent that about 95% of the indigenous people were wiped out, numbers dropping from around 25 million at the conquest to a little over a million by1605.

Today there are some pockets of pure blooded indigenous people (at the bottom of the social pile), but the majority of the population is of mixed ancestry.

Clearly it wasn't only the building of cathedrals that was keeping the Spaniards occupied.


Ten kilometres west of Puebla stands the town of Cholula.

This town has the distinction of housing the second biggest pyramid in the world or the widest, if you prefer. This was built and overbuilt between AD 1 and 600 (Q: is there a zero BC/AD?), by an early civilisation (pre-Mayan).

This was the pre-eminent town in the region at the time of the Aztecs until the inhabitants laid an ambush here for Cortes in 1519. It all went wrong and they were routed.

In revenge the Spanish concentrated their efforts in creating Puebla as the regional centre and vowed to build a church on the site of each pagan temple in Cholula (a fairly common religious practice, it seems to me).

Anyway, now there is a pleasant whitewashed church perched on top of the grassy mound that is the ancient pyramid.

Actually it is unknown whether the Spanish realised that it's a pyramid or just thought it was a convenient hill for their church building fervour.

Standing on the top you can see that the two towns are on a plain bordered by 2 Volcanoes, so it’s quite picturesque.


It’s a 5 hour bus journey over mountain tops to Oaxaca City (pronounced wo-haka), capital of Oaxaca state.

Dropping down towards the city we could see the bell towers of the historical centre, almost insignificant in the expanse of modern development.

Concrete tenements sprawled up the sides of the valley, so it was immediately clear that the area was poorer than those so far encountered.

We stayed in an old Spanish house, centred around a courtyard. There was little sign of any upkeep, the stone walls were probably last painted when electricity was installed. I called it rustic, Linda called it just bearable, though I think the atmosphere got through to her in the end.

Oaxaca has a large central plaza with trees and a bandstand, offset by a mighty cathedral.

Touristic restaurants sit under the eaves of the perimeter buildings, which is handy as there are lots of tourists.

Buskers of various quality set up and play nearby and then come around for your loose change. There is a broad range of instruments: guitars, trumpets, pan-pipes, xylophones. The worst ones are the singers.

Each day we were there a proper orchestra of some sort would set up in the square for a concert.

It is a town where something is always going on.

Again, it is nice to wander around and come across various churches and old buildings and there are not so many museums to ignore.

We did a tour to see: the widest tree in the world (allegedly); natural dying and weaving; cliff-top cold springs on the side of a mountain; ruins from a 14th-century town; a mezcal distillery (similar to tequila, also with worms).

We took a tourist bus to the ancient Zapotec capital city of Monte Alban.

The remains of this large complex stand on a hilltop 400 metres above Oaxaca, giving panoramic views across the valley.

The city was first occupied around 500BC, but was at its peak from 300 to 700AD with a population of around 25,000.

The important people lived at the top with lower status people occupying lower positions on the hill, probably farming in the valley below.

The site consisted of a range of pyramidical structures which were palaces and temples, also a hall, ball court and large courtyard (marketplace?) mostly available for clambering over.

It took a good few hours to get around the site and with a bit of imagination you could get an idea of what it might have been like at the time (though, strangely, no such representations in the attached museum).


We had been a bit slow getting into the Mexican food, cosseted by the availability of Italian and Chinese restaurants. Finally we took the plunge and had lunch in a taco bar where the meat was cut from a revolving skewer like a Turkish kebab.

In Puebla we tried the regional speciality, mole poblana. A mole is a sauce 'prepared with a multitude of fresh ingredients, including chocolate'. What we got was a chicken leg covered with hot chocolate sauce.

Later on I had a mole negro, similar but with a darker, richer sauce. I could get used to this.

One breakfast I went for huevos rancheros. I was served a couple of fried eggs placed on soft tortillas, floating in a sea of green sauce against an island of refried beans. I don't often take a photograph of my breakfast, but on this occasion I made an exception.

There always seems to be a good selection of beers available. The brewing industry was set up by Germans in the 19th century and includes dark, tasty, bitter-like beers as well as the expected lagers.


Now for some beach time. There are a variety of routes from Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido. The quickest one goes directly over the mountain range (Mexico is so mountainous) and would give you vertigo if you weren't so busy trying to hang on to your seat with your buttocks.

The minibus dropped us off in the lower part of town and we walked downhill towards the sea.

I thought we would check out the local youth-hostel-cum-hotel and we were rewarded with a nice large room with hot water and balcony for a very reasonable price (after bargaining).

The sea here was rough. Big waves to knock the unwary off their feet.

After they hit the beach waves would often rebound and head back out to sea, only to collide with an incoming wave. This meant that there was no rhythm to allow you to judge the gaps for a swim. Lots of surf for jumping around in though.

The next beach along was the surfers beach, though not for novices.

So we spent the days on the beach and, after dinner, an hour or so on our balcony watching the locals setting up their trinket stalls (though hardly selling anything).

Our visit coincided with the town’s annual festival. I was right not to get too excited as the parade mainly consisted of school kids in glittery costumes on the back of trucks.

Most of the town turned out for the free Acapulco Transvestite Show on the second night. It was the usual shimmying and miming stuff but they all seemed to enjoy it. The glittering transvestites joined the closing parade the next night, and that was it.


Moving along the coast it was fairly easy to get to Puerto Angel, a small fishing town with a few hotels and guest houses.

I came here because is it set in a sheltered bay so the sea is calm and good for snorkeling. There is a decent bit of beach, bounded by a wall of rocks below which live an assortment of fish species and the odd bit of coral. Perfectly acceptable for my 20 minutes in the water, despite all the 4 hour trips being touted by all the beach bar waiters.

The town descended into torpor each evening.

The local teenagers hung around the pier for want of anything better to do and I found the requisite time for writing up the trip so far.

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Comments

[Carolina]

At this house began mexican revolution it´s because that there are shots marks (sorry my bad english :)) Actually it is used as a film location for a film of Mexican Revolution