Aimee and I have wanted to visit Mexico City for years. The immense size, rich culture, and interesting history has fascinated us both. So we jumped at the opportunity when we were able to line up a week of overlapping vacation time from our jobs. We weren't going to let a little cartel violence, economic instability, or Zika virus get in our way. But more on that soon!
We planned our trip as two segments. The first one was an escape in the lush forests and butterfly sanctuaries of Michoacan (the state next to Mexico City), and the second one was a romp through the city itself. A big draw was the Frida Kahlo museum and the other monuments to Mexico's mid-century cultural revolution.
We woke up early on Saturday morning for our flight down to Mexico. Some smuggled breakfast burritos accompanied the surprisingly tasty stroopwafels that United tried to pawn off on us as a whole meal.
Our flight touched down in Mexico City around two or three in the afternoon, and we had arranged to have a driver waiting for us. I had read before our trip that although the government was taking major steps to remedy this, taxi travel in and around Mexico City can be somewhat perilous for tourists. Less reputable drivers had created a cottage industry of "mini kidnappings" where tourists were taken to an ATM to withdraw a ransom payment before their luggage was stolen and they were left stranded. So needless to say, I could easily justify the extra $5-10 to have a trusted driver waiting for us at the airport. Plus, who doesn't like seeing their name on a card at the airport?
Our driver, Fernando, loaded our bags into the back of his late-model passenger van and navigated us through the airport towards the freeway.
But I use the term freeway loosely. All of Mexico City is essentially one giant traffic jam. Our driver provided some context by telling us that there are 23 million people in Mexico City, and 21 million cars. It felt like we squeezed through about half of them along our 90 minute drive to cover the 6 miles between the airport and the bus terminal.
Our early trip excitement was the only thing keeping us from losing our breakfast burritos over all the lurching back and forth. Driving in Mexico City is a delicate balance of nimbleness and suicidality. In order to get us into the bus terminal, our driver had to nose his way through several massive intercity busses. If there was a wide enough gap between two busses for light to pass, he would nudge within millimiters of the gap, and work his way inch by inch between the busses as they moved forward. I can only assume that the bus drivers were showing how impressed they were by leaning on their airhorns for the 5 minutes it took us to work our way in.
The picture didn't turn out great (because I was trying to avoid eye contact with anybody) but we could have picked the nose of the bus driver if we reached out of our taxi. In fact, moments after that photo was taken, we heard the sound of plastic crunching as our van lurched sideways. Aimee and I were silently hoping that we had run over a large water bottle, but we knew better. Without missing a beat, our driver deadpanned, "you can get out now" before launching in to an argument with the other taxi he collided with.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mexico City!
