But it’s not like Quinn would have let us sleep in, anyway. So it was off to el centro for our morning walk.
Not only was it a holiday, but we woke up particularly early that morning, so it was just us and the birds in the town square. And of course the birdseed vendor.
We saw her out there night and day. The lady is a hustler. Putting in long hours for little pay, on a particularly tough day to be dependent on wild birds for your livelihood. “Birdseed. Five pesos. Feed the birds.” BOOM!!! *Wings flapping* “Sonofabitch.” Long pause. Birds return. “Birdseed. Feed the...” BOOM!!! “Oh, for crying out loud.”
And Quinn wasn't doing her any favors, either,
98% of me knew that the teeth-rattling explosions were just early morning revelers ringing in the New Year. But there was definitely a solid 2% of me subtly looking around after each blast to check for oncoming stampedes or picket signs. Our corner of Mexico City felt remarkably safe, but this wouldn’t have been the first time a protest march snuck up on us.
All of our usual cafés were closed for the holiday, so I was starting to get a bit nervous when our family had been awake for more than 35 minutes without food. But thankfully one of the panaderías that flanked the town square was open for business. And equally (if not more) importantly, a little coffee vendor was set up out front.
Shopping at a panadería is one of the absolute most pleasurable food buying experiences anywhere in the world. They’re all remarkably similar. You enter the store and grab a metal tray and some cafeteria tongs. Then you walk aisle to aisle through some of the most decadent baked goods you’ll ever see. All were baked minutes before you arrived, and it's impossible not to fill up your entire tray.
Between the ice cream last night, and the panadería this morning, Mimi has never been happier.
"How often can we do this New Year thing? I like it."
But this was actually not Mimi’s first trip to a panadería. I remember seeing a similar smile almost exactly four years earlier.
And for that matter, four minutes earlier, as well.
With bellies full of caffeine and sugar, it was back to feeding the birds. Nona and Grael eventually met up with us, and we all went out for breakfast at one of the cafés that was starting to open up. It was as delightful as ever, even if Quinn was the only one would could stomach the thought of eating more food that morning.
The only downside of Coyoacán having such nice parks is that they’re closed up when there isn’t any maintenance staff to keep them that way. So most of the small parks in our neighborhood were locked up for the holiday. But earlier in the week, we had noticed (and walked past) a little park under the freeway by our apartment. We think it’s part of a nearby English school for young children. It was both a strikingly efficient use of space, and more than a little terrifying. But we were running out of options.
The kids loved it. I just pretended that it was under a very overbuilt shade structure.
And then, of course, nap time for everyone and back to the town square for dinner. We were wearing down the sidewalk between our apartment, the nearby parks, and the local corner cafés, and loving every minute of it.
Quinn, seemingly having no idea how much food he had eaten that day, absolutely demolished my perfectly seared tuna, and left me with a couple of potatoes and some table bread. How thoughtful.
The evening was rounded out by a roving mariachi playing a song from Coco to our children. He knew his audience.
Our stroll back home that night brought us through el centro, and past Frida’s house. It was a particularly charming moonlit walk.
I love this town.
