Mexico Dispatch IV

Day 3 in Mexico City.

After the slow day that ended at Specto, this morning everyone was itching to get down to business. The hotel lobby was buzzing with chatter well before we were due to meet.

“What are you bringing out?”

“What stock (film) are you shooting?”

“Oh wow, you’re only taking a 28 mill? I could never!”

To the uninitiated, we probably sounded, well… just like we looked. Eclectic. But if one thing was unmistakable, that was our enthusiasm. Childish grins adorned all faces. We are about to go adventuring in Mexico City!

Carlos, our fellow Beers & Cameras buddy and guide behind F8 And Go There, had arranged for a car to take us to the main place everyone visiting CDMX has to see, to the hotspot for “I was in Mexico” photos. You guessed it, The Zocalo!

I know I already took you out for a spin there but lemme just set expectations, this will not be the last time we re-visit this iconic square. Keep in mind, just because you and I have been there the group still hasn’t, so be a team player.

Now,

As everyone knows, any self respecting artist has two, and only two, paths to take when it comes to lifestyle.

Option one, austerity and martyrdom. Whether self imposed or, more often by happenstance, it means finding brilliance through the complete deprivation of joy, worldly pleasures and even necessities. Think Van Gogh, Dostoyevsky, Goya, Poe, Kahlo… you know the type.

Then you have option two. Hedonism!

Living life cranked up to 11!

We’re talking debauchery of Diego Rivera proportions, decadence that Oscar Wilde would find homely, belligerence and insatiable thirst for the thrills of life only Hemingway and Caravaggio would stomach, or better yet revel in!

Where am I going with this?

Well, that was a long winded way to say, our first stop was going to get breakfast. You just can’t practice good art on an empty stomach. Ask the second group, they’ll tell ya!

We were dropped off at the Gran Hotel Ciudad de México. Overlooking the iconic Zocalo, we had a reservation at their rooftop restaurant where we were set for the epicest of breakfasts! But to get there you first had to, naturally, go through the lobby. This would present more of a challenge than one might think, at least for a group of photographers.

The Grand Hotel of Mexico City was built as a Mercantile Center in 1899, using what was known as the, get this, Chicago technique. It didn’t take long to pick up on the design cues. It shares its DNA with the Rockery, the Chicago Cultural Center, Marshall Fields/Macy’s on State, to name a few.

So what happens when a bunch of photo snappers from Chicago walk in? They start a snappin! Right?

Not quite.

After the initial taking in of the scene and appreciating the beauty of the building, we pulled out our cameras and dispersed trying to find the right angle for our shots. That amazing Tiffany glass roof (from the opening photo) was just the sort of challenge we all appreciated!

However, not a minute later, we were being corralled by security telling us “No se permiten cámaras profesionales!”.

Oh, come on!

You mean to tell me that the building which is featured in not one but TWO James Bond movies, and is one of the most visited tourist spots in the city, doesn’t allow cameras that are not attached to a phone?!

I really would love to debate the logic behind this rule with whoever set it. Seriously you guys! (eh? eh? get it?)

Anyways, not being a bunch of quitters, and being well versed in sneaky street photography, we all nonchalantly walked around taking hip shots with silent shutters. No, there was no angle hunting but we did get some of the amazing ambiance.

Take that you hospitality despots!

Risking being late for our reservation, this time Carlos had to step in and get us to stop snapping and start moving.

We took the lovely metal cage elevators to the last floor, where this time left unsupervised, we were able to take as many shots as we wanted, before Carlos had to remind us again that delicious food was waiting for us behind just one more door.

Reluctantly leaving the glamorous lobby behind, we walked out onto the rooftop restaurant, only to be greeted with an even more mesmerizing view of the whole historic center. I swear, anywhere you turn, there was something incredibly beautiful to photograph.

We were promptly seated at a huge table where we got some much needed coffee and parked our cameras so we could scout out the buffet.

Everyone came back with full plates of the most delicious breakfast food you have ever tasted. We shared and compared notes and went for round two, followed by three (and maybe even four) making sure not to miss anything that was highly recommended.

As we were refueling, some of us would take the occasional shot here and there, mostly from the designated photo spot on the terrace overlooking the main plaza.

That was until the Bummer-bomber struck again!

This time the party pooper was the restaurant manager.

She was a harrowing figure, moving around like a willow’s shadow on a breezy day. She would perch up by the desert and beverages and would look for any sign of a “professional” camera clapping, ready to swoop in and ban all fun.

Fortunately, the lovely servers were on our side. They were very curious about what we we were doing in Mexico City, and even more so about the gear we had on us. Jackie’s Rolleiflex TLR stealing that show by far.

Now I can’t say for sure but I have an inkling that they phoned in a “manager needed at the lobby” situation that drew here away from the restaurant. They told us to go ahead and take as many photos as we like, saying “We’ll keep an eye out for her, don’t worry”. What absolute Chads and Chadeses! Their tip was beyond well deserved.

Fueled up and ready to go we made our way down.

The group took some time to explore the center square. We had sunshine and clear skies, making everything look just perfect! Plenty of light to feed our cameras and to make the scenery pop, what more can you ask for?

We agreed upon a meeting point and time and then dispersed to look for our take home frames.

I meandered with no clear goal. I had already had the pleasure of experiencing the magical sensory overload the other day so now it was time to take it in and enjoy it. Immersing myself in the crowd of people, many of whom seemed to be pouring in from all parts of Mexico for the festivities, felt like I was not just a tourist on a schedule. The edge of “I need to capture everything!” was off. Now I was just a guy with a camera, leisurely observing the world around me. As if this was Chicago and I was at Millennium Park.

It’s interesting how this changes the perspective in which we see things. As I write this and recall, the first day was a blur. I remember a lot but it is veiled in that covering of daze. This day though? I remember it much more vividly. I remember my interactions with the locals, what I was thinking, what it felt like, the sun beating down on us, the smell of Mexico City, I feel it right now sitting at my desk.

I am by no means a world traveler, but I’ve seen a place or two. Enough to have learned that a packed agenda, while beneficial, can also feel like driving through a town and saying you’ve been there. Technically? Yes. Realistically? Naah. Taking a tour bus and never setting foot outside it is more like live theater, you see the show and you go home. Walking the streets however, meeting the people, trying to converse in broken Spanish, now we’re talking! You need to be a part of the play to earn a peek behind the curtain.

Having had enough of the beating sun, and seeking whatever sliver of shade we could find, we moved on to Madero Street towards Palacio de Bellas Artes.

The nice thing about Madero is it’s a pedestrian only street. We were able to roam around to our heart’s content without risking getting run over (Mexican streets are not a good place to play Frogger).

The street is lined with historic buildings, churches, stores and street vendors. Genuine photographic galore! As you can imagine it took us a while to traverse it.

One thing that I noticed at this point was how cognisant we all were of one another. It would be very easy to lose spatial awareness and end up wandering into someone’s expensive film shot, again and again. While I’m sure it did happen here and there, we did the best to give each other space.

Equally important, resisting the urge to flock to the same shot that someone has already lined up in their viewfinder is no small feat. And again, while we have similar photos, I don’t think this turned into a bigger issue, which it very well could have.

Kudos all!

Eventually we reached our destination, Palacio de Bellas Artes.

What was the daytime experience like, you wonder? Exactly the same as my nighttime visit two days earlier. Popping!

It was literally as if someone just switched the lights on.

Same lively crowds, same pleasantly loud vendors selling colorful wares and delicious food. People everywhere, enjoying life, relaxing, laughing, dancing… it was beautiful!

It took quite a lot of self restraint not to go full A-10 and just go BRRRRR with my film camera. Fortunately I was packing digital too, otherwise this trip would’ve become all the more expensive. And we’re just getting started!

I captured one of my favorite frames here.

As I was exploring the park I saw this young couple locked in a playful tug of war in one of the fountains. They were so into it I went completely unnoticed, even though I was basically in it with them. Eventually they saw me, laughed, waved and hurried along to join another group of students.

Love. This is what I think when I think of Mexico City.

Wrapping up at Bellas Artes, we met our driver (whose name I am skillfully avoiding as I can’t remember it, shame on me) and traded the heat and passion of downtown CDMX for the quiet and quaint, bohemian neighborhood of Coyoacan.

Being the designated driver for my family, I never get to carelessly look out the window while in a car. Riding shotgun on this trip I took full advantage of an opportunity not likely to repeat itself anytime soon. Like a sus guy in the back of a Tacoma technical, camera in hand, I was blasting left and right. Thus, another one of my favorite shots came into this world.

Feast on this folks!

Now, Coyoacan is a pretty interesting place. On the surface it is a calm and deceptively tame settlement on the outskirts of Mexico City. But if you dig just a little, you will find it has much more of a flair for drama than it lets on.

For one, it was the home of Frida Kahlo. The famous artist was born here and lived here throughout her life. She married Diego Rivera, who also made it his home. Their tumultuous relationship is well documented and probably already more than Coyoacan ever aspired to be known for.

The fascination for the history buff in me was in the fact that through their communist interests and associations, they petitioned the Mexican government to give asylum to, of all people, the out of favor Soviet leader Leon Trotsky.

Mr. Trotsky, who had found himself on his former pal Stalin’s Naughty List, which was rather permanent and non-negotiable, moved to Coyoacan to Frida’s Blue House. He was welcomed along with his wife, whom he then promptly proceeded to cheat on with his artist host. Eventually he met his demise at the end of an ice axe, courtesy of his old friend from the party (not just a party, THE party).

Now talk about drama!

Anyways, Coyoacan is to this day a hotspot for art and still carries its subtle knack for throwing a twist when least expected.

Case in point, me finding what is a very traditional Balkan (my home peninsula in Europe) treat on the streets of this Mexican neighborhood. Of all things in the world, I least of all expected to have a street vendor in Latin America sell me a freshly brewed cup of proper Turkish coffee and some Baklava.

Only in Coyoacan can you find Soviet leaders and Ottoman fares.

Go figure!

Now getting a little tired, with a coffee in hand I got to exploring as we were also slowly making our way to the last stop for the day, Mi Compa Chava, where we were promised good grub from the sea!

However, it didn’t take too long for the combo of cobblestone streets, the jolt of coffee jitters along with balancing multiple cameras and a cup to spell disaster for me.

I truly don’t recall how but a nice chunk of what was remaining of my piping hot Turkish treat ended up all over my shirt and pants. I can tell you, it’s a weird feeling getting doused in something hot that then promptly cools off and makes you feel cold. It’s a double whammy of Coyoacan proportions.

Fortunately, at this point we were at the restaurant so I was able to leave my gear with my pals while I stood outside in the still powerful sun to dry off. Surprisingly it worked amazingly well and in 10 minutes I was completely dry.

Back at Mi Compa Chava, the party was in full swing. The band was playing enthusiastically, folks were dancing and the smell of delicious food filled the air.

Talk about the perfect ending of a jam packed day!

We packed the gear up as we made room on the table for the myriad of exotic dishes. A few more photos were taken here and there but at this point the photography part was over. We were hungry, tired and just wanted to relax to the fine tunes and the hefty margaritas. Can you really blame us?

And while I had a close call, unlike Trotsky, I did not meet my demise in Coyoacan. I survived the puffer fish taco which was outstanding and lived on to experience another magical day in Mexico City.

More on that in Dispatch V, I promise it’ll be a good one!