PLAZA GARIBALDI
Ah, Plaza Garibaldi. Anyone who has looked twice at their $40 Lonely Planet guide to Mexico will have seen the place marked as one of the highlights of Mexico City. A strange bastion of mariachi music in a corner of the city so seedy not even a bird will touch it, I enjoyed this quirky excursion a lot.
One Saturday evening early in April, a Japanese friend and I decided to visit the venerated plaza and see what all the fuss was about. The place is easily accessible by metro, and we arrived around 6pm. To be honest, arriving so early was a slight error of judgement. At that early time of night, the square was less a lively centre of traditional Mexican music and more a sad block of pavement that looked like Chernobyl in 1986.
Still, my friend and I had a look around and had dinner while things slowly picked up.
One of the main things to do at the plaza is to visit the Tequila Museum, so you can learn in detail about the substance you'll be poisoning yourself with later on. With a series of panels taking you through the production process, and a long shelf full of specimen bottles, it's actually a pretty cool museum which is worth the few pesos it costs. At the end, a twenty-something explained to us the 'correct' way to drink tequila, the general idea being that you swish the liquid around in your mouth before swallowing, so as not to give your throat a stroke. Then, once the actual swallowing of the concoction is done, you suck on a lemon in order to supplant the unpleasant aftertaste of the tequila with the unpleasant aftertaste of of a highly acidic citrus fruit.
After leaving the museum, we had to decide which night-time establishment to pop into. It wasn't long before we were ambushed by a lively but somewhat unrelenting plaza-wanderer, whose job it was to convince visitors to enter one of Garibaldi's bars or restaurants. Of particular interest to the man was the idea that we would enter the nearby strip club, a proposition he made various times and in various ways, with a rather unapologetic prurience, until eventually we gave in and accepted. He led us up a dimly lit flight of stairs, which made me briefly wonder whether I had at some point been teleported into a David Lynch film, and we emerged in an even dimmer-lit open area which was completely empty except for us. We took a seat and opened up the drinks menu, and nearly had a heart-attack. We would have dropped our drink if we'd bought one; prices in the 300-400 dollar range littered the menu, which for me is roughly a month's living money. Just as a rather crestfallen looking temptress began to shuffle over to us, we stood up and resolved to leave immediately.
We headed downstairs and entered the main bar, which doubled as a venue for traditional Mexican dance and singing. This area projected a decidedly better vibe, and we promptly ordered a Corona. Remaining for well over an hour, we slowly imbibed our ethanol, and watched as a chubby forty-something in a green suit danced around singing old Mexican love tunes.
Eventually it was time to go; the later you stay in Plaza Garibaldi, the higher chance you have of being thrown up on. Venturing back out into the warm night, we located the metro, and returned home.
ZOO
Mexico City is home to a rather impressive zoo, which houses an extensive range of creatures from all over the world. I had been wanting to go for months, and finally got around to it. Upon arriving, I was surprised to discover that entry to the animal park was completely free - I guess president Peña Nieto has a soft spot for antelopes. However, inside the zoo, there were two areas that I had to pay to gain entry to, and these were the butterfly sanctuary and the reptile room.
Indeed, they had butterflies! I was overjoyed to see this, since I had completely missed out on the big butterfly sanctuary in Michoacán. Barely able to contain my excitement, I handed the desk-manners a fifty peso bill with a trembling hand, and ebulliently pranced into the haven of lepidoptera. Although it was very, very hot inside, I was just happy to finally see the winged creatures. Caterpillars also made an appearance, adorning the plants like Christmas tree decorations, zealously gobbling down the very leaves they were perched upon.
It was a magical experience.
I pressed on, exploring the rest of the zoo. There were birds, bears, wolves, deer, hippopotamus, giraffes, antelopes, and much more.
And here are some pictures from the reptile room.
A very fine range of beasts indeed. And with several species of animal native to Mexico, the zoo left me with a better idea of the fauna of the country I'm in. Previously, I had reached the conclusion that 98 per cent of the animals in Mexico were squirrels and dogs. No more.
Oh and as a bonus, here are a few pictures from a trip to the aquarium, which I undertook the following weekend!
Damn I love fish.
PARQUE BATÁN
The last April outing I'm mentioning in this blog seems almost hilariously trivial - basically, I went to a local park. But hear me out, hear me out.
I had known about this park for a while. It's located right next to the main highway about ten minutes south of where I live, and on the odd occasion I've walked down that way, I've noticed said park. But I always neglected it. I snubbed it. I basically pulled a metaphorical middle finger at it, dismissing it as not worthy of my time. Well, one afternoon, I wanted an easy outing close to home, and realised that Parque Batán was the perfect answer.
Upon arriving, I was met with a rather droll scene: it turned out that today, it was 'Children's Day' at the park. Thus, the park boasted a range of spectacles of appeal to little-uns. But first, I had to pay for a ticket to get in. So I joined the relatively long line of twenty and thirty-something parents with their spawn, and made a rather amusing contrast to it. Certainly I received a few quizzical glances - as a twenty year old student on his own, I didn't exactly fit the target demographic of a twenty-seven year old Mexican couple with a couple of toddlers. Nevertheless, I braved out the swathe of staring four year olds, and eventually got my prized ticket, which cost less than two dollars. I clarified of course that I was only there to look around the park, in case they were wondering whether I planned to jump up and down in the bouncy castle with the three year olds.
Basically, it was just a nice park. I reconnoitered the site, and was overwhelmed by its niceness and innocence. Up north, drug cartels are chopping off heads and throwing police officers into snake pits. Here, five year olds were laughing mirthfully at fake dinosaurs, and prancing around inflatable castles. Parque Batán was a world of its own - a world wherein nuclear families, rather than nuclear arms deals, were the order of the day.
There were even turtles there!
Parque Batán was a nice foray into an important side of Mexico - young families doing young family stuff. Sure, I might have stuck out like a sore thumb, but I was glad to have gone when I did. Some of the best gems lie right around the corner. Well, if you live near a jeweler at least.
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