Dubrovnik & Montenegro: Cliff-Jumping, Kayaking, & Beachingby Randi / August 31, 2013
Bagan, Burma
Before I went to Myanmar, better known as Burma, last year, my knowledge of the military-ruled country came courtesy of J. Peterman on Seinfeld. I assumed that when I arrived, I’d be able to buy melons off of boys’ motorbikes. While this was essentially true, I also learned so much about this very problematic yet alluring country, and had the time of my life.
First off: My boyfriend and I consider ourselves intrepid travelers and we like to plan everything ourselves in the most authentic way possible. However, all of our initial research about traveling in Burma recommended having a private company book everything in advance in order to avoid common problems with corruption and bribery. Considering how difficult the decision to actually go to Burma was, since we’d be supporting the horrible government with at least some of our dollars, we had the great people at Santa Maria Travels & Tours book our hotels, internal flights, and activities. Using a company like Santa Maria helps ensure that you stay in privately owned hotels, rather than state-owned, so a small percentage of your money would go to the government, rather than all of it. Having contacts in the country to help us should problems arise (and arise they did) definitely helped make this challenging trip a bit more manageable. (Also, what finally convinced me to take this trip? That President Obama had decided to go there, arriving just when we were leaving. Also, Anthony Bourdain came around then too.)
Immediately upon landing in Yangon (Rangoon), our first guide met us and took us to Shwedagon Paya, the most famous pagoda in Myanmar. (Ok, you are correct that I keep switching between Myanmar and Burma. Myanmar is the official name, changed by the military government in 1989, but many people we met were not happy about that. So I’m going to go with whatever sounds best in each sentence.) The most sacred pagoda for the Burmese Buddhist people, Shwedagon Paya is also the grandest and most famous.
First off: My boyfriend and I consider ourselves intrepid travelers and we like to plan everything ourselves in the most authentic way possible. However, all of our initial research about traveling in Burma recommended having a private company book everything in advance in order to avoid common problems with corruption and bribery. Considering how difficult the decision to actually go to Burma was, since we’d be supporting the horrible government with at least some of our dollars, we had the great people at Santa Maria Travels & Tours book our hotels, internal flights, and activities. Using a company like Santa Maria helps ensure that you stay in privately owned hotels, rather than state-owned, so a small percentage of your money would go to the government, rather than all of it. Having contacts in the country to help us should problems arise (and arise they did) definitely helped make this challenging trip a bit more manageable. (Also, what finally convinced me to take this trip? That President Obama had decided to go there, arriving just when we were leaving. Also, Anthony Bourdain came around then too.)
Immediately upon landing in Yangon (Rangoon), our first guide met us and took us to Shwedagon Paya, the most famous pagoda in Myanmar. (Ok, you are correct that I keep switching between Myanmar and Burma. Myanmar is the official name, changed by the military government in 1989, but many people we met were not happy about that. So I’m going to go with whatever sounds best in each sentence.) The most sacred pagoda for the Burmese Buddhist people, Shwedagon Paya is also the grandest and most famous.
The main stupa of Shwedagon Paya
The grounds of the sacred Shwedagon Paya were crowded even in the early morning.
 Burmese people praying to the Buddhas at Shwedagon Paya |
 My favorite – a Burmese man meditating under a bell |
The exterior of Sule Pagoda
Next, we went to Sule Pagoda, located in downtown Yangon. It was suspposedly built before Shwedagon Paya, and is 2500 years old. To reach it, no matter your mode of transport, you have to risk your life and cross the most insane intersection in the eastern hemisphere. So scary!
A stall in one of the food markets of Yangon.
We visited a few other pagodas in Yangon, and then we finally ate! I didn’t have much trouble finding vegan options in this Buddhist country: The main way of eating is a varied spread of curries, and you can just request the vegetarian curries. There are also salads served, but don’t eat raw vegetables or fruit here that you can’t peel! Danger! (Take it from me and my few days wasted from what I thought was cholera. I knowwww.) Our first meal was soupy noodle bowls made in 2 minutes on the street. Street food is the best, right? It was so good.
 First meal in Burma, noodles on the streets of Yangon. |
 The noodle bowl stand on the street. I think the food came to like 40 cents in USD. And it was delicious. They were really nice, and while they didn’t speak much English, we figured out the vegetarian thing. |
Most of the streets are covered with vendors of all sorts, but mainly food. We tried as much as we could, and most of it was good (all of it was interesting!).
 Part of the food market  A stand selling sugarcane juice. It was good! A little warm though (haha, it was like 100 degrees out everyday, everything was warm)  This was gross |
 A man selling jackfruit; I wish I could have tried this!  Ohhh the bananas in this part of the world. The best About that red food to the left, oh my. It’s some kind of very popular candied fruit we tried at the behest of our guide, who ate a ton of it. I thought it was tomato, my boyfriend thought it was plum. Our guide didn’t know the English word for what it was. There probably is no English word for what this was. There will never be an answer, and you could not pay me to try it again. Well, maybe you could, I’ve had grosser things in my life. |
The Colonial-Era Strand Hotel, where most of the fancy people stay. If you really need a salad or something raw (like I did after several days), this place would probably be safe – probably. The lobby is also a gorgeous place to sit and cool off (AC!).
The busy, overcrowded streets of Yangon. This view is more representative of the city than the shiny gold pagodas. The cities, the everyday lives of the Burmese people, are gritty, and so much money (so much) goes to beautifying the pagoda sites, covering them with gold leaf while most people live in poverty.
We stayed at the decent Panorama Hotel in Yangon. It was pretty comfortable and clean, and it had wifi! I sent my first tweet ever from this hotel! This is the view from our window. You can see Shwedagon Paya in the background. Not bad! Such a lush expanse.
Our time in Yangon/Rangoon was eye-opening and really special. It was a great introduction to and preparation for the rest of the country. However, nothing could prepare us for our second stop of our journey – one of the most beautiful places in the entire world, Bagan, Burma.
This is Bagan, Burma. It is stunning, with vast fields covered in thousands of ancient red brick pagodas. The beauty is astounding. My favorite part of the trip by far.
The Bagan airport
Bagan is an unbelievably special place. If you are coming to this part of the world, you need to go to Bagan. Oh, about traveling within the country: You can get around by train and bus, but flying is the way to go. Trains and buses can sometimes take days, seriously, because of frequent delays, so air travel is the most common form. The flights are short from town to town (our longest was probably an hour), and they are usually on time. However…they are frightening. I was white-knuckling it during each of four or five flights we took. Luckily, we safely arrived each time. I don’t want to dissuade you from flying (you do not want to miss so much time with ground travel), but you should be prepared for these bucket-jumpers.
The main thing to do in Bagan is visit some of the beautiful red brick pagodas pictured above. (I won’t be sharing many pictures of the insides and the Buddhas – it’s possibly sacrilege.) We went in so many, by the end of the first day I was begging to never see another pagoda in my life. However, the next morning changed everything…
The main thing to do in Bagan is visit some of the beautiful red brick pagodas pictured above. (I won’t be sharing many pictures of the insides and the Buddhas – it’s possibly sacrilege.) We went in so many, by the end of the first day I was begging to never see another pagoda in my life. However, the next morning changed everything…
The view of Bagan from a hot-air balloon. Best experience ever. (Taken with an iPhone too; pretty impressive if I may say so!)
Taking off in the balloons at dawn
If you are going to Burma, you MUST go to Bagan, and you MUST take a hot-air balloon ride with Balloons Over Bagan, a company run by an Englishman named Lee. This was the most incredible experience, and you will not find any better view that this! This is the #1 reason I want to return to Burma. (It didn’t hurt that I was in the balloon with Lee! Such luck!) I’m going to share a crap load of pictures with you, because I can’t do justice to this experience with words.
 Beginning to fill the balloons |
 This operation was so fun to watch! |
You don’t really appreciate fog until you are in a hot-air balloon
Can’t take credit for this picture; I know for sure boyfriend took it. The others though are fair game 🙂
Hot damn, am I right?
The markets all throughout Burma were also incredible. In Bagan, we saw the most varied types of produce, nuts, and even tofu for sale. The main thing they sell to tourists are the longyis, the type of garment most people wear (like kilts, or sarongs).
 We also had some great food in Bagan. I enjoyed the family-style spread of vegetable curries available. Burmese curries that I had were very different from, say, Indian curries, in that there’s little of the familiar spice blend. The curries are more akin to just ‘dishes’ of different varieties, from root vegetable soups and noodles to stir-fried green vegetables, all served with white rice (and salad; don’t eat it!).
|
 At left, women in the market sell thanaka, or cosmetic paste made from tree bark. Women all over Burma paint this paste on their faces, usually in circles. Use of thanaka is a cultural, cosmetic thing, but it also provides a bit of sun protection.
Above, bowls of betel nuts and betel leaves are for sale in all markets. Burmese people chew on the nuts wrapped in the leaves like it’s their job. You’ll see many people with the telltale red-stained teeth.  These are the traditional Burmese end-of-meal (can’t really call it dessert!) plates. You’re given a bowl of jaggery, or palm sugar candy, the sweetest motherf-ing tooth decayer on the planet. I know some people love it, but yeesh. On the right is the traditional combination of ginger, fried beans, and fermented tea leaves. Very interesting! |
Bagan is a convenient jumping off point for visiting Mount Popa, a beautiful volcano (inactive, I hope) with a monastery atop it. It’s a few hours drive from Bagan, and then a really long climb to the top. Bear it mind that the climb is done barefoot, as you cannot enter any pagoda or sacred space in shoes. The walk was covered with monkey poop thanks to the guys at left and their friends. It was worth the trouble though! Cutes! But don’t touch them! Diseases!
On the walk up, there are also people (mostly children) selling all kinds of things, from longyis and food to the same old tourist souvenirs being sold outside every pagoda. (It takes something away from the experience, to encounter the throngs of impoverished children everywhere you go and not be able to really help them.)
On the walk up, there are also people (mostly children) selling all kinds of things, from longyis and food to the same old tourist souvenirs being sold outside every pagoda. (It takes something away from the experience, to encounter the throngs of impoverished children everywhere you go and not be able to really help them.)
Mount Popa
One of the coolest things about Mount Popa? At the top, they have little plaques commemorating all of the donors to the pagoda. Imagine my delight when I saw one for Burma Super Star, the great Burmese restaurant in San Francisco! So fun!
All in all, Bagan was just an incredible experience. We stayed in a bungaloo at the Kumudara Hotel, which as far as I can remember was the best we stayed in in all of Burma. I definitely recommend it – it had a pool! And, check out the view beyond the pool below. It’s amazing. Stay tuned for posts on the rest of my journey through Burma!
From the hotel pool, you can see (and freely go towards) some of the red brick pagodas in the fields. Amazing!
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The Train to Chengdu: THIS BETTER BE WORTH IT
August 9-10
Dear little baby laptop diary,
Dear little baby laptop diary,
Today, August 9, is our third year anniversary! No not you I don’t even know you! Z and I got married three years ago today! Yay for us! Happy anniversary! Unfortunately, our meticulous schedule has us departing on a 26-hour train today,from Guilin (we had to get a car back there from Yangshuo for the station) to Chengdu. Not the most typical way to celebrate the occasion, but we are on an adventure. Because of this special day – but really because the last few trains have been abysmal experiences – we booked out the entire cabin for the first time. The ticket booker we used said they buy the other beds very often for people who want it to themselves, and they buy the other two beds as children’s tickets (so they cost less), for fake children. Or, as we were hysterical to see the agents refer to them as, “ghost children”. They book the kids’ tickets under fake names, so we were excited to see what fun Chinese names our fake children got.
The tickets are issued to both of our full names plus “Junior”. Of course. But still funny!
Let’s hope this actually works and they don’t try to resell the two beds in here, because guess what guys, this train most resembles the last shitshow, to Guilin (when we 2 extra bodies (children) (not the ghost kind)), but it is EVEN WORSE. It’s like someone said, “Give me the oldest train carriages you have for this route and let me make it even shittier!” I know every single time I’m like, hey baby laptop, this train is EVEN WORSE than the last one, and the people reading are probably rolling their eyes like how is that possible, but somehow it really is the worst yet. Since that gorgeous St. Petey to Moscow special sleeper, we’ve gone slowly down the ladder of quality and cleanliness, with few exceptions on the straight slope down. I read my old diary entries on our early Russian Trans-Siberian trains and want to punch myself in the face for thinking that wasn’t the height of luxury and being such a brat about it. (We have to go back through Russia to enter Europe from the ‘stans later so I’m actually excited to sleep on a Russian train again. I KNOW.) Nothing in here has been cleaned since I don’t know the previous dynasty. The walls are stained to a brownish mix of age, dirt, and who knows what else; the sheets are stained and full of stranger hair; it reeks of smoke – which is usual, but it also reeks of something mixed with smoke. We can’t pinpoint the specific stench, but it is NOT PLEASANT. I believe it’s the smell you get when decades and decades of Chinese people sleep, live, and eat weird smelling food in tiny compartments that never get cleaned. It’s pretty bad. It’s also freezing – the air is on super high and we can’t control it – so we are shibbering, and icked out. I mean just look, even one of the nets on the wall has lost the will to live:
it’s like the hallway from The Shining
oh man I can still smell it
The toilets are insane. Similar to the last train (when I shared pictures; you’re welcome) but dirtier, ickier. And the sink room is the same, except for one crucial difference – a pipe is broken, apparently, because the water drains…out onto the floor from below. Like, the used dirty sink water is just draining through the sinkhole and onto the floor. Including water spat out from tooth brushing. So if you want to use the sink WHICH I DO, you need to watch the water level on the floor so it doesn’t pass your shoes and touch skin ahhhhh ewwwww.
I can’t imagine what this would be like with other people in here and I hope I don’t have to.
Since we had to drive from Yangshuo back to Guilin to catch this 12:30pm ish train, we left at 9:30am ish today to begin our journey, and we are supposed to arrive in Chengdu at 2pm tomorrow. So, we needed an entire day’s worth of food for today plus half a day’s for tomorrow. I had a crapload of leftovers from dinner at Lotus Vegetarian in Yangshuo town last night, three containers actually! So I brought those to eat. Of course, takeout containers in China have been laughable, and the chinese food juice leaked all over the plastic bag it came in, the bigger plastic bag I thought would keep it ‘extra safe’, and my beloved reusable tote that I carried the food in. I have to wash that. So gross. Everything somehow smells like stinky tofu. This whole country smells like stinky tofu. Maybe it’s just stuck inside my nostrils.
I ate as much of the leftovers as I could (leftover noodles do not keep well) and was eager to throw the containers and the bags out asap. It had to go in the sink room, where the only decent sized garbage was. Sorrynotsorry.
At the station, I bought these taro cakes that looked decent, were super cheap, and, eureka, had English ingredients listed so they were accidentally vegan. Let’s compare the picture on the box with the actual product:
This is not what was advertised. They were like little squares of powder, and as soon as you touched it, it completely fell apart into a pool of powder. We still tried to eat them – it was like the G-D CINNAMON CHALLENGE. We were CHOKING on powder. So f-ing weird. I am mad, I want my taro cakes. I don’t know if the company is a pos or the store just like changed the product for shits and giggles? Don’t know man. But now I don’t have a fun dessert for this train!
I just found a black hair under the pillow.
I really have to pee but I don’t want to unlock the door to our little safe place. Also, the toilets are disgusting. We are back to the kind that just empty clear out onto the tracks with a big hole you can actually see through. One of them is broken and stuck in the open position so you can just look through and see track the whole time. Fun times.
Z still feels like crap (we have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow! his turn to need one!), unfortunately, so while I can sort of act amused by all this, he is miserable and I feel terrible. It doesn’t help that I bought those taro things primarily because he loves taro. He will be so disappointed when he wakes up to learn that they are just cubes of baby powder. At least we have good fruit! I have a container of cut up cantaloupe – seriously, the cantaloupe in China is OFF THE CHARTS. I know usually it’s like the fruit added to fruit salads and trays that no one wants and you’re like eww get off my tray, but I’m obsessed here. It’s sooo good. I can’t get enough. I also bought a bunch of grapes outside the station so they are unwashed and I can’t wash them in train water so I didn’t reallllly think that one through (I can save for hotel at least), three very promising black plums (I love plums!), weird little fat short bananas that are actually good and maybe sturdier than the regular ones (not as much bruising!), two apples courtesy of Tea Cozy’s daily fruit supply, and a super fun treat for our anniversary, our absolute favorite thing we discovered in Burma – custard apples! I don’t know how we will manage to eat them unless we just save for hotel, but so fun.
some of our great fruit! hooray for the fruit in China!
For these long disgusting Chinese trains, I really can’t recommend enough that you bring a bar of soap and a handtowel. Just being able to wash your hands well and dry them satisfactorily brings a great deal of peace. At least to me.
Remember on the Russian trains when I complained about how they didn’t refill the soap dispenser for a while?? HAHAHAH I was so stupid! At least in Russia people use soap! I have yet to find a non-hotel bathroom in China – in ALL of China – that has soap. Just no one washes their hands after using the hole. No joke, in restaurants, malls, trains, stations, public toilets, museums, everywhere, I watch as people just rinse ONE hand in the water for a hot second and then shake it off onto everyone they pass as they exit. There is never soap ever. So disgusting. How is disease not more prevalent? Actually I don’t know the stats at all, maybe it is.
I’m drinking a random store-bought iced tea with zero sugar, barely any flavor, and no bubbles. I hope Chengdu has bubble tea near our hotel. We also have two 4-liter jugs of water for this 26 hour journey, plus two 1.5-liter bottles and the rest of my 2-liter bottle I started this morning. Plus two baby sized ones for brushing our teeth. So for drinking that is about 12 liters. Is that enough??
Ooh it’s raining outside! I like it, for some reason. It’s relaxing, to be inside while it’s raining out. Like hey this is a disgusting hole and we already smell of smoke and China’s national stench, stinky tofu, but at least we are inside.
Z’s getting tired of Chinese food, and I am a little bit too. It’s too bad that it’s hitting us now, when we are about to be in Sichuan province (land of our favorite kind of Chinese food! Super spicy Sichuan!), but it’s understandable given we’ve been here for almost 3 weeks. That’s a lot of Chinese food. Chengdu has a good deal of Western food apparently, and a great many HappyCow listings, so I’m excited. Also we changed our hostel booking to a very nice hotel as a treat for our anniversary and to balance out the trains and some of the prior accommodations and really just everything, and I hope it lives up to its billing and our expectations, but honestly after this train, anything could seem nice.
It’s so odd remembering the Russian trains, on the classic Trans-Siberian routes, where yes we were bunking with regular traveling Russians but the carriages were filled with other tourists. In China, this is not the case. Even on the Beijing to Shanghai train, we didn’t see any non-Chinese people! There is a group of white college-looking people on this train, but they are in platzkart (not called that anymore I know but it’s a good word), the open-bed-dorm style class, so everyone we see on our carriage is Chinese. That’s why everyone stares, they’re like ‘wtf are you doing out here, you know this isn’t meant for you to see, right, it’s very dirty’.
Damn it’s really raining hard now, maybe I don’t like it. I’m scared things are going to start leaking through the ceiling onto us, which would be sooo not fun.
When I get back to London, well we get back at night so I am going to shower and then sleep. Omg. My bed. But the next day, I’m going to hopefully welcome a Tesco delivery of groceries (I need to do that online several days before, I guess when we are in Poland! Someone remember to remind me!) and make a green smoothie with Vega powder omg I miss that so much. And then we are going to watch Netflix all day. And get vegan soft-serve at Yorica in Soho! Omg whyyy did I think of that I want that now. And we will get pizza delivered, Z from Pizza Union down the block (well I guess he’ll pick that up) and me from Basilico because they do vegan cheese. Or maybe by then someone else will have vegan cheese! What a world is happening out there!
I have to go tell someone to stop smoking in the hallway.
Ok no one is in the hallway or in the next room, which means the smokers in the carriage-connecting parts – the actually signed smoking section, if you can believe it – are next to the air vent and so it is getting circulated to all of us with the air conditioning. Cool. Cool cool cool cool. Oh wow it started hailing.
My eye is twitching! from stress?
I just had to find the boiling water station – no more having it in every carriage – and it was THROUGH THE OTHER END OF THE NEAREST PLATZKART CARRIAGE. Omg I have never been in platzkart before it is a zoo! First of all, the bunk beds are TRIPLE TIERED! Ah can you imagine having a top bunk that is actually third up? So crazy! And everyone is just standing around the open plan talking and eating and wow it is very loud. Thank goodness we are in rooms with doors, even if they provide more surface area for dirtiness.
An attendant just knocked and I let her in and she looked around and at the empty top bunks and I SCREAMED WE HAVE ALL FOUR and of course she didn’t understand my words but was FREAKED OUT from my tone and my volume and she ran away. Z said what the fuck you just terrified her! But I was so nervous that she was looking to put people in here that I burst nervously into shouting. Oops. But don’t even think about it lady!
Yay she didn’t she was just confused! We showed her the ghost childrens’ tickets and she got it. We are safe. Phew. I am so excited to shower and enjoy Chengdu. PANDAS! Good food! Hotel amenities! See you on the other side.
Vegan In Mexico City Part 2: Coyoacan! Frida! Nacho Libre!
What’s up party people! We’re back and ready to talk more about Mexico City! We have so much to talk about because as usual we packed an absurd amount of Activity into our short time there. (Okay other practiced travelers are probably saying ‘no you do a normal amount of Activity for a travel blogger since we need to see as much as possible when visiting a new place’ but you forget how much sleep I need.) As I said in Part 1 of the CDMX posts, we’re breaking up the info roughly by neighborhood to give it at least a chance at making organizational sense.
ok these might not be bears but you get it
In this post, we’re moving south to the Coyoacán neighborhood of Mexico City, where we find the famous blue house of Frida Kahlo, Casa Azul. I mean I guess it’s the famous house of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera but he seemed like a bit of a wanker so I’m going to focus less on him. Just a few blocks away is the Leon Trotsky house, where the Soviet revolutionary/Marxist/politician/Bolshevik/ Communist Party leader/&c lived and died in exile but not before partying with the Kahlo fam bam. I almost used a photo of the Trotsky house as the banner picture for this post but thought that might be weird/get me on lists. Anyway, aside from those two house museums we’re gonna eat great food and then go to a spectacular spectacle that I shockingly loved: Lucha Libre, the crayballs Mexican wrestling extravaganza.
Let’s start with the Commies!
THE LEON TROTSKY MUSEUM-HOUSE
Since I’m American, let’s start with the commies. You know how into all things Russia we’ve been for the past few years, learning as much as we can about the people taking over America, &c (and their language! правда!) so we weren’t missing this. I recommend a visit – it’s pretty quick and fairly interesting. It costs 40 pesos and would not take you more than 40 minutes to visit, so it’s like a peso per minute, a ratio that bothers me much less for museums than it does for theatre, strangely.
Trotsky was kind of a big deal in the USSR in the early 1900s, which is pretty much the time of all the big Soviet leaders whose names you know, like Stalin. Trotsky did not like Stalin. I mean no one ‘liked’ Stalin but he did it to his face. I really want to give him the nickname ‘The Trots’ but he’ll probably haunt me for that so no. Okay, so Leon was big into Marxism as a teen, as all teens are (?) and helped form the South Russian Workers’ Union. Since that sounds kinda nice, unions are good, he was exiled to Siberia, while I on the other hand paid to go there which is hilarious. (It’s not bad.) An enterprising young Trotter escaped to England, changed his name to the one we know now, and met up with fellow Bolshevik revolutionary Lenin, and they drank and argued in all the classic English pubs every night till closing about which of them would be commemorated in the future in every single Russian village and city with a giant and I mean GIANT bust of his head. (It was Lenin.) Mista Trotterrrr returned to Russia in 1905 for the Russian Revolution and was again exiled to Siberia and again escaped. This f-ing guy, am I right?
His radicalism got his azz thrown out of lots of otherwise nice places like Paris, Spain, NYC, and Switzerland (I mean but ‘neutrality’ favors the oppressors so fork you) (I know I know it is bothering me too that that list goes city, sovereign, city, sovereign but that’s how the source material I’m referencing does it ugh) and then he went back to Russia in time for the 1917 revolution. I mean he shows up for the important events, you gotta hand it to him. He was instrumental in the Bolshevik’s successful power grab, and he became Lenin’s secretary of foreign affairs. He did lots of stuff, yada yada yada, learned English from Seinfeld, and seemed to be the successor to Lenin, but as The Death of Stalin taught us, once a leader gets sick all hell breaks out and the succession struggle falls into chaos. When Lenin died, Stalin emerged as leader, and since Trottingham East didn’t like him and in fact openly criticized his polices, Stalin propagandaed him, removed him from his posts, and then exiled him from the Communist Party and then the Soviet Union. After some time in Turkey and a few other Euro stops, Trottingham North was granted asylum in Mexico! Yay Mexico! He and his fam first lived at the Casa Azul with Frida! Did you know! Trotavarius had an affair with Frida, a fellow Communist (Alexander did you know), but like who didn’t (we will get there). I imagine he also ate some amazing food that must have been a welcome respite from cucumber-tomato salad (what I had all throughout the former USSR). After a few years and a few too many fights with Diego (I can imagine what about), the Trotskys moved a few blocks away to their own house, which is now the museum. Despite being probably as far away as possible, Stalin was still mad and prob jealous of the food so he ordered Trotsky’s assassination. The first one, using guns, was a failure, but the last one, with an ice axe, well, the details make it seem like also a failure (I wish I didn’t know the details) but he died the next day from his wounds.
So the museum! So fun! The entry building has lots of photographs from Trotsky’s life and info about his work. It was fun to practice reading Cyrillic again and to listen to all the Russian tour groups (I think when we were there it was just us and Russian tour groups). It’s not super informative but some of the photos are interesting. The real focus of the museum is his actual house and gardens. It has been kept just as it was when he lived there, which means it’s dark, due to bars and shutters on the windows. That also means some of the interior walls still have bullet holes from the failed attack. In the kitchen, his pots and pans are still out; in the bedrooms, shoes are still lined up; and in Leon’s study, his papers and glasses and books are still on his desk. Out in the lovely gardens is his tomb.
So, it’s not the most popular tourist attraction, but I definitely recommend a quick visit before the Casa Azul, especially since his relationship to the Kahlos can help you understand them more.
CASA AZUL: THE BLUE HOUSE OF FRIDA KAHLO
When you visit the Frida house, you buy tickets online in advance. It’s too busy and popular to risk otherwise. But even so, you’ll wait in an endless line snaking around the house, around the block, and several blocks away to enter. Yes, when we arrived in what we thought was good time for our ticketed slot, ticket holders were waiting in a queue for almost an hour. In the SUN, guys. It was rough. If it was for the theatre I would have missed most of the first act and demanded an exchange and better seats.
Is it worth it? I mean I’m not a Frida nut but it’s pretty interesting and, ya know, it’s the big f-ing thing to do. If you really don’t care, then by all means skip it; there’s no reason to set aside a whole afternoon for it. But if you have the time, it’s fairly interesting. You learn a lot about Frida, what she went through, what kind of person she really was. And the house is lovely.
Once you enter, they will try to shuffle you straight into the museum part of the house, where you look at Frida’s and Diego’s paintings with lots of tourists taking selfies with them even though, if I recall correctly, you aren’t allowed to take pictures. Don’t let them manhandle you though – there are no bathrooms until you finish the entire inside tour of the house, so find them first and then go back. It’s a MADHOUSE, wall-to-wall people, and you’ll get agita trying to read about all the works when people are blocking everything. There are some interesting works in these initial rooms, but the better stuff awaits when you see the rooms as they lived in them.
I especially liked the kitchen. I don’t think we were allowed to take pictures but we have this one, so.
Surprisingly, the super long video that’s playing on a deck out in the garden space was incredibly interesting. I usually zone out in museum videos, especially ones that are this long (it’s like a whole movie) but it was great. As we already learned, Frida had an affair with Trotsky, but did you also know she probs had one with…Georgia O’Keefe? Yah. More important than her affairs is the information about Frida’s chronic pain. She had polio as a small child and its effects changed her body forever, leaving her with one leg shorter and significantly weaker than the other, due to muscle atrophy. As a teenager, she would suffer even more after a streetcar accident, which left her with fractured ribs, spine, clavicle, pelvis, leg, a crushed foot, a dislocated shoulder, and an iron railing through her hip and pelvic floor, causing the infertility represented in many of her paintings. They didn’t think she would survive the accident, but she did, and was left with a lifetime of pain.
Her father encouraged her to start painting as she recovered, and that’s how she met Diego. If you’re more familiar with her art than I was, you’ve seen her pain and suffering, as well as her strength, in her works.
In fact, her famous clothing style was a direct result of that: her corsets were really back braces helping her stand up. The square tops of her Tehuanan ethnic heritage could fit over and hide the brace. Flowers in her hair, her famous braids, and other interesting adornment above the neck would lead people to look up instead of down at her broken, withered legs, which were also hidden often by big skirts.
She went through a lot, is what I’m saying. And I knew some of her famous work and some generalities about her life, but I never knew she was disabled. She was an artistic pioneer in large part because of her pain, and it’s worth noting how her disability is largely erased from the popular narrative (and of course the cinematic portrayals). Of course, she still had quite a life – people long thought of her as a victim to Diego’s infidelity, but girl could get it too, and did – but you understand a lot more about her when you know how she was constantly suffering.
Also, she and Diego were Communists. I think it fairly hilarious how much she would despise the capitalist pigs who make endless tee shirts and tote bags with her face on them and how bewildered she’d be by the people wearing them. She’d hate the gift shop on her property selling all kinds of shit with her face. I think she’d hate the Christmas ornaments most of all, or she’d find it all utterly hilarious.
Okay, that’s enough of the serious stuff for today, right? Let’s switch to Arizona trash-bag mode and talk about food and wrestling.
VEGAN FOOD
Coyoacan is a fantastic neighborhood for vegan food. We planned on eating lunch at Aura Vegana (at Malintzin 199), and we stick to most plans, but we were almost enticed away to several other vegan establishments we discovered just as we wandered!
First, we saw Pan Gabriel, a bakery billing itself as entirely vegan! According to HappyCow, it is all vegan, but heads up – inside, we found several products with egg, and several others that reminded me of that one doughnuttery that appeared at the UK Vegan Fest like 9 years ago and told everyone that their giant amazing doughnutty things were vegan even though they looked exactly like another company’s products that were not vegan and then they disappeared from the face of the earth, so, ya know, be wary.
They have a lot of gorgeous bread products, cakes, rolls, sweet empanadas, all kinds of bakery treats that made me absolutely lose my shit and overpurchase in a glutinous fit. However, the actual goodies were disappointing. Everything was very bready, even the things that weren’t supposed to be bread, like doughnuts and cookies and brownies and cakes and well I guess that’s everything. And nothing was sweet enough. Honestly I would skip unless you hear of improvements, or unless you like your treats to be shiny bread.
LITERALLY NEXT DOOR to Pan Gabriel is a restaurant called Temictli, which is billed as ‘Plant-Based’ on the awning but even though I despise the cowardliness of people using that phrase all the time now instead of just saying vegan, they get a pass because they sound amazing and the lady was so nice (also because it’s not in an English speaking country so they can do what they want with words). Temictli’s menu looked OFF THE CHIZZ:
This is not even all of it! We were so tempted to stay put and skip Aura Vegana, but unforch the lady explained that even though she let us in and gave us a menu to look at, they weren’t actually open yet. Oops. Next time Temictli, you sound AMAZ.
So that means we stuck to our plan of Aura Vegana, which was pretty good.
Aura Vegana is a small cafe on the ground floor, right at the entrance, of a larger building with a bar up top and other restaurants inside. They have English versions of their menus, and they have green juice. I was sold before we sat down.
I assume I ordered an ‘Emerald’ juice, which mixed my classic hits like celery, orange, coocoomba, kale, spinach, parsley, and lemon, but I have a slight memory of husbo saying something like ‘you always have stuff like that at home’ so there’s a chance I actually had the ‘Turquoise’, which is celery, parsley, grapefruit, prickly pear, and pineapple. Either way guys, they have various green juices and it’s cool.
Since apparently I share pictures of menus now, here’s one from Aura:
I don’t know why these are called ‘Morning Dishes’ and the next page of the menu – all food from other cultures, like ravioli, various hamburgers, curry, hummus, Vietnamese noodles? – was called ‘Afternoon Dishes’, but definitely stick to Morning because you’re here for Mexican food.
We decided to share an order of enchiladas and an order of chilaquiles. This was baby’s first chilaquiles, which means I didn’t realize what I was getting into: it’s like, fried tortillas with sauces and junk on it, and it’s pretty delicious but was pretty heavy for me. Also, for being called ‘tofu chilaquiles’, there wasn’t much tofu. In fact, there was one piece on top, so, you know. The enchiladas were great, a bit more my speed though it was all heavy, creamy, filling food. We chose the little hogweed and portobello version, although there was not enough little hogweed – I found one strip of greenery which I’m assuming was the little hogweed. Maybe that’s why they said little.
It was all delicious, if heavy, but I should have known that going in. The cashew cheese on top was excellent, as was all the sauciness. Mexican food is amazing.
Outside, we passed a local park that was literally covered in paleta and gelato shops. Paletas are the Mexican ice pops that are made from incredible fruit purees (if you are cool and want vegan ones), which we enjoyed throughout the Yucatan. We decided on watermelon and horchata sorbets from one of the parkside shops, and we liked it, and we loved it.
LUCHA LIBRE
Alright I’m here, she’s here, we all made it to the craziest thing we did in Mexico City, the thing you have to do if you visit CDMX even though it seems ridiculous and if you’re like me you are probably like ‘really?’ but if you are like me you will give it a shot and you’ll be glad you did because it’s HYSTERICAL and SO FORKING ENTERTAINING. On a Friday night after our exploration of Coyoacan and communism and everything, we took the metro to the Arena Mexico for some Mexican wrestling, straight out of the Jack Black movie Nacho Libre but probably not entirely like that but honestly I’ve never actually seen it so shh but it doesn’t matter because now I’ve seen the REAL THING, BABIEEEES!
Lucha Libre is Mexico’s professional wrestling, of the sort you’d see on TV where you know they were faking it but it doesn’t matter. The wrestlers wear masks and costumes and have specific characters to play. The wrestling is as boisterous and raucous as the crowd, and they favor dramatic flips and crashes and bams (I don’t know all the terms) over rule-following and it is RIDICULOUS and it is HILARIOUS and it is AWESOME. I cannot recommend it enough.
When we arrived at the Arena Mexico, there was a line longer than the Frida house line, but it moved. We didn’t have tickets, and neither did the many western tourists in line with us. We had fun talking about our travels and Nacho Libre with the other tourists (I’m really good at lying about movies), and we also bought some amazing swag. Ingeniously, the sidewalks along the side of the building/blocks and blocks where the line travels are filled with souvenir stands. We bought husbo’s brother a Lucha Libre mask, then a few minutes later at another stall we bought him a cape (he’s a fan), then a few minutes later we got t-shirts. It’s like a neighborhood version of the rack by the supermarket checkout.
When we got to the main entrance, we were told there were good 200 peso tickets left for great seats. If you want to spend less, I’m sure you could. The place is freaking enormous, and I don’t think it’s possible for it to sell out, so don’t worry about tickets being available. There were lots of high sections that remained empty.
The only downside to going to Lucha Libre is the venue security, worse than any I’ve dealt with yet. Not only did they take my water – and they didn’t have any free water in the venue, only bottles for sale, which is illegal??? – and my snacks, they took MY GUM. My gum that I can only get in the USA and needed for the plane home so I didn’t vom! Dammit security lady! So so weird.
Aside from that though, it was stellar. Such a spectacle, such a loud ridonk spectacle, and so much fun.
We saw a lineup of 5 matches, I think, including group fights, a random parade of women? I forget, it was bright and loud. But it was awesome. We had recently enjoyed season 2 of Glow so we were jonesing for some well choreographed wrestling that looked painful but wasn’t.
I honestly can’t believe how much I enjoyed this. I definitely recommend it for a touristy but fun cultural experience that you kind of cannot miss. Once we were seated, it ran from about 8:30pm-11pm, about the length of a regular show we’d be at on a Friday night anyway, so it was a new super fun kind of evening entertainment for us.
Here’s my absolute favorite part: all the Mexican babies that are not only up so late but exposed to the UNBELIEVABLE NOISE of this place (bring earplugs if you’re sensitive…not that this baby had any…)
Alright, that’s it for this post! Which of the things that you are probably surprised to have found in this post did you enjoy the most, the Communism or the wrestling?
Oh oh one more thing, found in a shopping mall:
