Winding up on a high (altitude) note: Mexico City - April 21 to 24th 2016

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April 20-24

Completing the presentation and voluntary work marked a milestone in my itinerary and to be welcomed with open arms for a potential future visit as a volunteer a heartening gesture of my efforts.

Our last night in Puebla was had in the historic centre. We were seated facing the lit cathedral, gloriously radiant at night and a befitting structure it is, in place of its previously intended location, Mexico City

The camarero at a high end establishment approached. Resplendent in suit and a bow tie. "Quieres tomar?" Unbeknown to me, chinese whispers from camarero to camarero resulted in one of them later breaking into a birthday song, fit for NZs time zone (a day early locally)

Chaac, the God of rain, then threw a major tantrum. The heavens opened for a good electrical storm, accentuated by the airborne ash and to continue for the next three days. Finally, Chaac stalled their activity after a good thrashing of thunder and lightening. Waking to clear skies, the volcanoes were now visible, the snow capped peaks encased with a vague smog.

Stuffing my pack closed for the second to last time took some huffing and puffing. Once señor security at the bus station had checked us over thrice with X ray scanner, a frisk, and manual bag search on entering the bus, we did the same trip in reverse as coming from Mexico City to Puebla.

Arriving at the Central station, severe inner city traffic congestion the norm, we took the metro to Hidalgo and in twenty minutes exited to find a slice of heaven. Massage services, gym, pool, the promise of a birthday meal and FaceTime and this was one decadent day of loveliness ahead.

Hours slipped by. Pedals turned. Strokes in the pool made. The firm pressure from Beatrice in the day spa then took all the tension away.

"Inspiramos...exhalamos..". She had the techniques down pat, and although it was hideously Hilton extravagance for Mexico, there's a time and place to dial up manual manipulation, and finishing my fourth decade demanded it.

Complimented by excellent wifi and a tranquil lap pool and outdoor area overlooking the Reforma avenues, the day was near perfect, only to be improved by being nearer loved ones. We ate, we drank at a 16th century casa (Casa de azulejos), and admired an extensive ancient exterior tiling job. Joined by Miriam's dad, the sparkling rose did exert its effect, Spanish practiced, and being a year older appeared pretty good. Sin crises!

A day trip on a weekday was our intention on the 22nd, to limit out chances of being one of the many archeological site lemmings.

Teotihuacán is about 45km from the city. It's a massive site of an estimated 3000 edifices and temples structures that is apparently neither Mayan not Aztec in origin. Construction is believed to be around 100BC, and it's known as a grandparent culture to the Mayan and Aztec civilisations.

Abandoned around 700AD, at 5x5 km (25km squared) its breadth is breathtaking and as you conjure up thoughts and an impression of life then, fake silver sellers or persuasive obsidian merchants roaming the site isn't one of them

Adjoining the tour, we paid a trip to the plaza of La iglesia de Santiago de Tlatelolco, which around the time of the Olympic Games in 1969 was where a protest was staged, which ended in death for many, barely making the news. At near 500 years old, the Franciscan convent and ruins were a mighty impressive site for this story, whereas meanwhile, cars spewed carbon monoxide out as they drove swiftly past in at least four lanes of traffic beside this central site.

We also became sufficiently cleansed in our stop at the Iglesias of the Virgin Guadalupe. Ushered over to the 'benedictinos' counter by our guide, incomprehensible Spanish ensued, and before one could perform a religious N-S-E-W on ones chest, we were blessed with the contents of a bucket of water.

Mexican Catholics are evidently different to those elsewhere, where a divine interaction of the Virgin Guadalupe "revealing herself", in all senses of the word, to the indigenous folk resulted in their religion being fused. The symbolism ascribed to their God had aspects of astrology, references to flora of the time, and the features of dualism, as in the facial asymmetry and Mayan beliefs. Truly bipolar facially, with both 'triste y feliz' expressions.

The massive courtyard of wonky buildings sinking into the hillside, and a large architecturally designed church of the same vintage as I, made this a grand visit. Mexico City was built on a lake, and like parts of Italy, is sinking.

The day progressed well, interrupted only when I bought a below par salad for our lunch at Burger King, which Miriam prohibited me to eat. Too risky and I did but agree it was 90 pesos wasted.

Sufficiently tired our from all those steps to reach Mexican enlightenment at the site, we were rocked gently to sleep on the return leg in the mini bus, rain patting at the window, snuggling up to Miriam, and imagining someone else beside ourselves. Two ladies of leisure without partners. Were we students, the wealthy Portuguese asked ? Thanks for the compliment!

100 plus years of tourism has not much changed this site and we both ruminated on how spectacular the Yucatán had been the week before for magnificent and densely populated ruins.

Setting off the next morning to the museum of anthropology, we were about to be blown away at the enormity of relics present. On avenida Reforma, tree lined boulevards led us to a grand entrance where the usual security presence and bag collection was endured. Of course, I had intentions of dragging the Aztec sun stone of several tonnes in my back pack home for some bloody sacrificial ritual

This facility rocked. Literally. Rock of volcanic origin, primarily, was turned into all manner of implements, carvings, adornments and weapons for the numerous warring activity that went on in pre-conquest times and once the Spaniards invaded

Aztec culture came out tops for barbaric behaviours such as decapitation and mutilation, followed by more artistic yet valuable and symbolic endeavours of the Mayans and sub tribes and civilisations. Northerners appeared most nomadic, and given the broad deserts and mountain areas, fashioned their habits and intricate carvings around that. Symbolism was similar all around, and one codpiece-wearing warrior statue could well have come straight out of Blackadder.

Outside the museum the police presence continued, most with loaded guns and ammunition. We wandered up the hill to the former presidential palace, Chapultepec castle, fuelled with a hot drink for the cold day, and spent a good few hours again around the palatial surroundings.

As my Mexican historians told me, all the past emperors up until 1521 held various reigns over Mexico. Once the place was discovered by Columbus and the invasion of Spaniards occurred (thanks to a payment from a queen of the Habsburg's to Columbus), it turned later to a custard of betrayal, power wielding behaviours and gruesome deaths for some of note, all the while trying to make the New Spain like the old. Organ extraction or cultural sacrifice? It was a matter perspectives.

The extensive murals so revered, antique furnishings, and a Cinderella-worthy gold carriage for transport were incredible examples of life then. Right down to the dancing nudes of women in the upper levels, life for some was like a sanitary product advert. Carefree and dancing for joy.

Finally, lunch came at the Mexican hour of 4:30pm, a healthy Japanese joint full of hot noodle broths, that took some curly navigation on foot and an uber taxi.

Once back at base, a quick whip around the old centre, cathedral and recently uncovered ruins of the Templo Mayor on foot rendered me again 'cansada muchas', pretty physically spent, and sick of crowds. Such that a hot bath and a long lingering sleep were in order, but not before passing the ball-gowned and suited folk schmoozing in the lobby, this was a perpetual conference and political delegate venue.

Tlaloc the rain god had a speedy exit that night, and as a dawn of bright sunshine came around 7am, the city's pollution count looked to have dropped. Nothing but blue skies did I see, and stepping out of the Hilton, seen too was another strange spectacle - cyclists exercising!

The local ciclovía was in action next to Alameda park, with a sizeable part of the avenue taken up as in Bogotá 7 weeks prior.

Across the road, the dome crested building, Palace of bellas artes, occupied us for a good hour. That great Mexican mural painting tradition showed itself again, in portrayal of some gory war activity, political commentary, the telling of visual stories about emperor Cuauhtemóc and how his feet were burned by Spaniards, and general gritty messages of gaining their independence (as they did in 1910).

This building was only created after the revolution of 1910-1917, in 1934, and as my amigos informatively commented, similar social and political instability still features in 2016 Mexican life.

And I guess that's why there's at least 10 to 15 brands of bottled water, refried beans or yoghurt in the markets. Everyone is a merchant, and is trying to sell something to earn a crust. Even out-of-tune music grinders on the street. It's amazing what people will applaud.

And now it's departure day.

The coins have been spent on toilet access, tips, tickets, and tweaking of my old watch that I'd broken, fixed by a boy no older than 12 with an accompanying friendly Mexican smile.

I return furnished with a new addiction, to mameys, clad in coffee supplies from virtually every country visited, and without significant damage to my body or credit card.

Houston, it may have had recent problems, but with receding flood waters and moderate temperatures it's a find feeling to be heading home on our national carrier, Air NZ. To roost, to see loved ones, and to save for the next adventure.

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