Chapter Five: Diego Rivera Mural Day
June 21, 2023
Chapter Seven: Exploring Chapultepec Park & Museo Nacional de Antropología
July 27, 2023Historical & Hip: Mai Tai Tomás Travels To México City
Chapter Six – “Russian” To See Coyoacán’s Museums & Music To My Ears
Day Six – Hot To Trotsky, Axe To Grind, It’s Only A Drill, Feeling Blue With Frida, Strolling Through The Mercado, Where’s The Entrance?, Seafood Heaven, Magical Mango Margarita Meets Tuna Tower, I Can’t “Handle” The Truth, Even St. Michael Was Embarrassed and Mariachi Music at One Of Mexico City’s Oldest Restaurants
Upon awakening, we again read the note that the hotel had slipped under the door the previous evening about Mexico City’s seismic drill later that morning.
Today we were off to Coyoacán to visit the Casa Azul (Frida Kahlo Museum). Uber picked us up at 9:15, and I asked our driver to drop us off at the museum (about a 30 minute ride from Centro Histórico), but realized after exiting the car that I had forgotten this was not our first stop of the day. As we didn’t have reservations until 11:15 a.m., I had planned to explore the nearby Leon Trotsky House & Museum beforehand. I really need more caffeine in the morning.
Luckily, the Leon Trotsky House & Museum was only about a three-block walk from Casa Azul, and we arrived shortly after it opened at 10 a.m. A massive critic of the Stalin regime, Trotsky finally landed in Mexico City in 1937 (with many stops along the way) after his 1929 expulsion from the Soviet Union. He was helped in his relocation efforts by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. Trotsky and wife, Natalie Sedova, lived with Rivera and Kahlo at Casa Azul for a couple of years. 
They moved to this house after a falling out with Rivera (one reason being Trotsky had a fling with Frida). Entering Museo Casa de Leon Trotsky ($40 MEX … a little more than 2 bucks), there is a room chronicling Trotsky’s life throughout the years and also hypothesizing what might have been if Trotsky had won his power struggle with Stalin.
There were numerous photos and newspaper clippings. This photo shows him with a book about The Moscow Trials. The trials held in 1936-1937 were part of Stalin’s “bloody purge against the bolshevik Old Guard.” It accused Trotsky and his son of “serious counterrevolutionary crimes.” Nearly every Trotskyist remaining in the Soviet Union was rounded up and executed from 1936-1938. They also condemned the exiled Trotsky and basically anyone related to him to be killed.
After reading about Trotsky’s life (and death), we walked through the gardens.
Inside the Guards Quarters we saw the route he and Natalie took in exile looking for a place to live. They ventured to Turkey, Norway, France and other European countries before eventually ending up in Mexico City. Frida Kahlo greeted them upon arrival.
We visited the dining room of his spartan house. In 1982, this entire complex was designated a historic monument.
La Cocina was left as it was in the late 1930s.
Three months before Trotsky was assassinated, there was another attempt on his life. In May of 1940, 20 gunman infiltrated the property and sprayed the house with bullets. Many believe that muralist David Siqueiros was somehow involved, as he did not share fellow muralist Rivera’s viewpoints regarding Stalin. Figuring the next attack would be a bomb, the house was fortified and watchtowers were added. It didn’t help.
Nearly three months later, Trotsky was in the yard feeding his pet rabbits and chickens when the boyfriend of one of Trotsky’s confidantes was allowed inside the compound. Trotsky and his soon-to-be assassin (carrying a pickaxe with a shortened handle under his raincoat) went to Trotsky’s study. There, the assassin pulled out the weapon and “buried its sharp tip into Trotsky’s skull.”
Although doctors thought he might survive, Trotsky died the following day. His assassin served 20 years for the crime in Havana, and then returned to the Soviet Union and received a “hero’s welcome,” even receiving a medal for killing Trotsky. The room, with all its books, looks the same today as the day he was murdered.
The bed that he rested on during the day is also in the study.
We viewed other rooms such as the bathroom and the office where Trotsky’s secretaries worked.
Back in the garden among tropical flowers, including rare cacti that Trotsky collected, we saw the tomb containing the ashes of Trotsky and Natalie, who penned a biography of Trotsky before her death in 1962. A Hammer & Sickle on the tomb complete with the Soviet flag flying overhead. This is well worth a stop when in Mexico City. We spent about 40 minutes here.
On the short walk back to Casa Azul, we paused for a moment at a very colorful shop.
Next trip we really need to go on a mural tour.
We were back at Casa Azul shortly before our timed entry and many in that time slot were already queuing. It’s certainly not hard to figure out how they came up with the name for her house.
Nearing the 11 a.m. time slot, the 11:15 grouping started to form a line, as well. As a dog laid in the shade protecting itself from the heat, the peaceful quiet of this Wednesday morning was suddenly pierced by wailing sirens. The earthquake drill had begun. I guess only the dog (who started barking) had not been advised of the impending drill. It’s something we should consider in California, but someone would probably sue due to the noise. We have a video, but don’t want those who read this to lose their hearing.
While waiting in line for entry to the museum, Tracy purchased two alebrijes from a street vendor. Hand-carved and brightly painted, one was a hummingbird and the other a dog which reminded her of our late corgi, Frankie.
She was worried about getting them home in one piece but the woman showed her how the wings could be removed for packing and then wrapped them in bubble wrap for travel. So what are alebrijes? Tracy and I only knew them from the Disney movie, Coco, but have since learned that they are Mexican spirit animals invented in 1936 by a Mexican papier-mâché artist, Pedro Linares. The alebrijes were made popular by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo who commissioned him to create alebrijes for them, some of which we saw in the museum. Señor Linares created the fanciful animals after a strange dream he had. Tracy is now obsessed with these whimsical creatures and wants to travel to Oaxaca, home of the artisans who carve and paint these magical animals. Since I have read Oaxaca also has fabulous food, I’m in!
We entered Frieda’s courtyard, resplendent in blue. Frida did not have an easy life. She contracted polio as a six-year-old making one leg shorter than the other. Then at 18, she was traveling on a bus that was hit by a tram, which would confine her to bed for three months and caused pain throughout her short life. 
Walking inside the house she shared with Diego Rivera while they were married, there were lots of her paintings as well as other artists. Mi familia (Inconcluso) is on the left, while on the right is Viva la Vida, the final painting she would sign. She inscribed the words only eight days before her death.
This painting also led to a 2008 music hit. Coldplay’s Chris Martin told Rolling Stone that he named this song and album on this painting he saw, which translated means “Long Live Life.” He added, “She went through a lot of shit, of course, and then she started a painting in her house that said ‘Viva la Vida.’ I just loved the boldness of it.”
At one time, Frida had thought about being a medical illustrator. In her painting El marxismo dará salud a los enfermos (Marxism will give health to the sick) she shows herself in her leather corset “being cured by two huge hands, which are symbols of Marxism.” She once said about this painting, “For the first time, I am not crying any more.” The painting never was finished and was one of her final portraits.
There were also portraits of Frida by other artists.
Rivera paintings could also be found, like this oil on canvas painting La Quebrada (left), a place where cliff divers do their death-defying dives in Acapulco. He dedicated this painting to Frida two years after her death.
The patio looked just as lovely from the inside as from the outside.
Frida was also into photography and collected more than 6,000 photographs (roughly the same number I put in these posts).
This photo is of French writer and poet André Brenton, Diego and Trotsky.
We entered the kitchen where Frida is formed by miniature clay mugs on the wall. There’s one of Diego on the right side that our crack photographers failed to grab because one woman in our tour group had to take 112 pictures of this room allowing no one else a chance (although we were able capture most of the two doves on the left). I think she might still be there.
In Frida’s studio we took a glance at her art supplies.
Other artifacts included a bust of Diego (we were now on a first name basis with the two).
Although Frida and Diego had their difficulties, it was an affair of the heart.
Because of her polio, injuries and surgeries, Frida often painted in her wheelchair.
We then visited the room where she died in 1954. The first thing you notice is a skeleton looking as if he’s going out on the town near the headboard and a painting behind her that looks eerily like a dead child holding some flowers.
And, of course, her death mask.
Frida had two bedrooms, this one was her night-time bedroom with a skeleton above her head.
And here’s the other bedroom, with an urn containing her ashes. You’ll have to take our word on that, but we did get a nice photo of a bench. Rivera, it is said, wanted his ashes to be combined with Frida’s upon his death, but that didn’t happen.
We ran into more than a few interesting characters as we toured the home.
Then it was back outside to the patio area where we checked out pieces by Mardonio Magaña. ..
… a sculptor who was discovered by Diego.
Like Tracy, Frida loved her garden and it served as a creative refuge and inspiration for both her and Diego.
There are numerous native plants throughout, and there was never a lack of color.
In 2004, hundreds of Frida’s personal objects, including clothes, were discovered at Casa Azul. Mannequins in a nearby onsite building display a variety of her clothing representing “her authentic Mexican femininity.”
It also includes one her famous corsets. Instead of having this piece of clothing “define her as an invalid, Frida decorated and adorned her corsets, making them appear as an explicit choice, and including them in the construction of her looks as an essential piece.”
In 1953 Frida had her right food amputated. Afterward she uttered one of her most famous phrases, “Who needs feet? I have wings to fly.” Some of the implements that helped her walk are displayed in another room.
Her amazing life came to an end in July 1954 from a pulmonary embolism. I read, “Like the woman herself, Frida Kahlo’s funeral was both traditional and out-of-the-ordinary. She was laid out for viewing in her favorite jewelry and Tehuana costume. It was artistic through and through. During the procession, a Communist flag was famously draped over her open casket.”
All in all, it was a very informative and enlightening morning. Following our museum memories, we walked down to the Mercado N. 89 Coyoacán.
Colorful does not half describe walking through this vibrant maze.
I think Tracy could have spent the rest of the day here exploring.
But we had things to do.
Walking past Jardín Allende …
… we passed a few places where we could grab a bite …
… but as we already had lunch plans, instead we stepped inside Parroquía San Juan Bautista (once we found the elusive entrance), one of Mexico City’s oldest churches (16th century) known for a blend of baroque and colonial architecture. It was declared a national monument in 1934.
This is certainly a gorgeous church (it has been renovated rather recently), however like most of the churches we entered on this trip, a service was taking place.
Not to fret, it was time for lunch. We took in a little more of the area …
… and hopped in an Uber to a different part of Coyoacán. Our good friends who we spend many holidays with and affectionately call the Chicas, have family in Mexico City. Xochitl’s (one of the Chicas) daughter Michele and son-in-law Jorge own two seafood restaurants, one in Coyoacán, so we Ubered about 25 minutes to Mariscos del Patio (Patio Seafood), Armada de Mexico 1473, Coapa, Cafetales, Coyoacán. (You can read the complete review here.)
Tracy and I were looking forward to seeing Michele again until I had a terrible thought … what if I didn’t like my meal? Not to worry, it turned out to be one of our favorite (if not the favorite) restaurant of the trip. Crisis averted.
From its name you can surmise seafood is the name of the game here, and I am not usually a big fish eater. However after this experience, that might change. Thanks to the friendly staff who helped us with ordering due to our woeful lack of Spanish, we started with ceviche, an array of grilled shrimp and marlin quesadillas along with fresh chips, salsa and pico de gallo.
Having not paid attention to how much we were ordering, I ordered the Taco Patio; garlic shrimp scampi served on a cheesy freshly made corn tortilla with a side of mixed green salad. I always eschewed fish tacos in the past, but after devouring this flavorful taco I thought to myself, “Why have I not eaten these all my life?”
Then came mango magic. Our server told us that the mango margaritas were excellent, and true to his word they were wonderful. Not naming names, but let’s just say at least a few of us ordered more than one. I have to learn how to replicate this drink at home.
Fortunately none of us had really had much breakfast, because before you could say “stuff your gills,” more fish dishes arrived on the table. Tracy, Stephen and I ordered the Torre de Atún (Tuna Tower) which Tracy described as “an explosion of flavors” … a jewel-toned fresh tuna tower with plump shrimp, avocado, red onion and cucumbers drenched in secret sauce poured over the top. Wow!
Tim opted for the tasty Tostada Mariana; cooked shrimp, cooked octopus, surimi crab and fresh fish, while Sheila enjoyed Sizzling Grilled shrimps with pico de gallo, served with rice and papas a la francesca, otherwise known as French fries.
We will definitely return on our next trip to Mexico City, as some of the other dishes looked wonderful.
What I really enjoyed, too, was we were not in a touristic part of town, so this was an authentic meal with some of the freshest fish I’ve tasted. We bade farewell to Michele and the gang, and it was time to head back to Centro Histórico.
Along the way, another mural stood out.
Soon we were deposited near the Metropolitan Cathedral, so Stephen, Tracy and I decided to see what we had missed when we visited during Sunday service. Entering the same area, we were immediately able to figure out what all the noise was on our previous visit. There is a contraption where you can make a medallion of your favorite saint. I only have one favorite, Saint Michael the Archangel, a saint who I have counted upon numerous times to prevent injury and, in some cases, death. It is here where Stephen and Tracy had yet another opportunity to video my ineptitude and blackmail me for eternity.
A woman showed me how to make and “take your souvenir coin.” It looked like all you had to do is insert the coin, crank the handle and, voila, old Mike would miraculously appear on your coin. Easy peasy, or so I thought.
Well, I started cranking that baby, and it was then I realized an arm with a partially torn rotator cuff was not going get the job done. By the looks of this photo, I was holding the handle in such a fashion that even a normal arm would find it difficult to turn (mechanical reasoning was never my strong suit). At times, she couldn’t even bear to look at this Mai Tai Tom-foolery. Thankfully, the woman sensing the futility of my efforts (and the line forming behind me), came back as my “relief turner” and out popped a St. Michael medallion. Little did I know that on our last full day in Mexico City I would need to enlist his assistance once again (foreshadowing alert). I might be running out of miracles.
Sufficiently embarrassed and humiliated, I then rejoined my companions, and took a last look at the church.
On our walk to the hotel, we passed a bust of Samir Flores Soberanes. I wondered who he was, and why a statue of him was here. Turns out Soberanes was a journalist as well as an environmental and indigenous activist, who was shot to death in 2019 outside his home in Amilcingo, a couple of hours south of Mexico City. He was opposing a planned development project that included two new thermoelectric plants and a 93-mile natural gas pipeline in his home state of Morelos. Thousands of people in Mexico City protested. A replica of the original bust in his home town was copied and placed in the Zócalo a year later. As we had seen earlier on the trip, this was another Anti-Monument in Mexico, pieces that are traditionally installed during or after protests.
The wind was whipping the giant Mexican flag in the Zócalo, much to Tracy’s delight.
It was actually nice to rest for a couple of hours, but once again it was time to eat (it’s what we do). We met back up with Tim and Sheila, and walked to a Centro Histórico institution, Café de Tacuba (C. de Tacuba 28, Centro Histórico). Not only is this one of Mexico City’s oldest restaurants, it’s one of North America’s oldest restaurants. Speaking of old (not including our group), Calle de Tacuba is, according to what I read, the first road ever in Mexico City. The restaurant opened in 1912. If you are seeking a quintessential Mexican restaurant and experience, look no further than Café de Tacuba.
Located in a former convent, it’s a vision for the senses, one of those senses being hearing. I had read that on weekends mariachis stroll the room. I was hoping on a Wednesday, we might be treated to some music. We were.
Soon after sitting down, we were serenaded for about the next 20 minutes.
That’s all we got on this night, but it started off the evening right.
Since we had participated in a rather hefty lunch, we were ready for drinks and a “light” meal, so we just ordered entrees. None of which could reasonably be called light.
Jack and Tim ordered the Chiles rellenos de queso; poblano peppers stuffed with cheese.
I thought I’d be safe ordering Enchilada Suizas; oven baked with sour cream and melted cheese. “Great,” I thought, a meal of cheese enchiladas was perfect. Two problems, the menu just said “Suizas,” and I had totally forgotten that this dish also includes chicken. When it arrived, I stared at a large Suizas casserole. It was good, but had I attempted to finish it, they would have had to roll me up the oldest street in Mexico City.
Sheila and Tracy fared better on the lightness quotient with their dish of Tostada especial Tacuba de pollo dashebrado; tostada with chicken and Oaxaca cheese.
We washed this all down with a Mexican Barbera from the Valle de Tomás, which by its name must be a great wine region.
The food here was not the best we had in Mexico City, but it certainly was very good, and just sitting inside this restaurant exudes historical Mexico ambiance.
We bid adios to our ambiancing friends Tim and Sheila, who would be departing for home the following day, and the three of us had a nightcap at Gran Hotel Ciudad’s rooftop.
Tomorrow, we would return to the charming Condesa neighborhood, but at different hotels than where we stayed before. After lunch at a busy and enjoyable spot in Condesa, Tracy and I walked to Bosque de Chapultepec (Chapultepec Park) to wander a bit, taking in some of the park’s sights and sounds.
We would eventually hook back up with Stephen to take a step back in time at the Museo Nacional de Antropología, a fascinating museum featuring different eras in Mexico. It is here that we learned about an unusual game where the loser had his heart ripped out, and where, for a brief moment in history, a San Diego State Aztec was crowned an Aztec emperor.
Chapter Seven: Exploring Chapultepec Park & Museo Nacional de Antropología
Day Seven: Charming Boutique Hotel, Who’s A Lardo?, There’s Trouble Afoot, Monument To Heroes Defending Mexico City, Be Sure To Come Here On A Weekday, Artifacts Galore, Where’s The Football Schedule?, Hail Montezuma, A Happening Part Of Town and Our Only Restaurant Misstep
