11th Sept. 2016
We’ve known for some time that we would be in Guanajuato for Independence Day – smaller than Mexico City but big enough that it is bound to have a big parade and lights and stuff. What we didn’t think through was that this would mean that it was going to be busy and we ought to get our hotel booked way in advance. So, for almost the first time ever, we go on to Booking.com, plug in our dates and are told that essentially there are no hotel rooms in Guanajuato. Eventually, after much use of internet search engines and persistence we do find a hotel – a little further out of town than we’d really like. It will be interesting to see what the hotel is like – but it is unlikely to be the worst place we have ever stayed.
Having sorted out accommodation for five days hence (unheard of), we can now get on with our actual plan for the day. Lonely Planet (and Janet) say that the Castle of Chapultec (Grasshopper – yes, really!) is worth visiting and so we head out on foot and metro (seems to be a 50/50 split). The castle is up on a hill in a park and from the mass of people heading that way, it seems that the castle really is a thing in Mexico City.
Apparently, it was originally built as a holiday home for a Spanish viceroy but it now houses the National Museum of History. With a hoard of people and all of the display signs in Spanish we found it hard to glean much from the exhibits. I think that I learned that the Mexican national anthem dates back to 1854 – but I can’t imagine the pub quiz where I would need to know this. We’d already been put off somewhat on the way in with the officious security getting me to hand over my camera monopod (and even worse, labelling it as a selfie stick!).
Once done with the castle (and after trying to be creative with the photographs), it was back down the hill, past the even bigger throng on the way up and through the park. We paused at some of the monuments and sat down to enjoy the ‘Audiorama’ – a little clearing in the wood set up with benches and chairs and with classical music playing from an encircling ring of speakers. It actually was surprisingly relaxing and effective.
From the top of the hill, we had spotted a long, straight avenue with a tall monument in the middle. This sort of thing is irresistible to us (especially as we have a pedometer with us) and so, we head that way. It turns out that the monument is the Angel de la Independencia and the avenue is lined with skyscrapers must be the heart of the business district. Being Sunday, though, the road was closed to traffic and instead turned over to cyclists and rollerbladers – young and old cycling up and down (perhaps a 1 mile stretch) on bikes of all sorts – even the Boris bike equivalents. Even better, there were pop-up gazebos offering free cycle maintenance and a cycling proficiency school.
The whole thing is clearly an effort by the city to get people out and exercising, and you’d have to say its not the worst idea that anyone has ever had. I left Janet contemplating a Zumba class (not entirely sure why) and went off to study a mariachi band playing at the foot of the monument. Cue more photos of Mexican clichés before we were able to tear ourselves away in search of lunch. At 15,000 steps in the morning, I think we deserve a beer!
In the (early) evening we continue our theme of traditional Mexican activities and it is off to the Lucha Libre – Mexican wrestling. This involves a trek out to the Arena Mexico (think of a smaller, more downmarket Wembley arena). We are hardly pushing the boat out as on top of the MXN$5 metro fare, the price for second row seats was MXN$210 (about £8). Surprisingly, the stadium started to fill up as time went by and there was probably 2 or 3,000 people in the arena by the time the action started.
It was good wholesome family entertainment – apart from the cheerleaders in skimpy tops and even skimpier shorts – each bout was clearly scripted (goodies and baddies) and the punches were either pulled or just slaps. All in all it reminded me of the wrestling that used to be on ITV’s World of Sport on a Saturday lunchtime as a child. This time though it was all much more colourful with bright costumes and ridiculous facemasks – and also much more acrobatic with the ‘fighting’ not necessarily confined to the ring as the wrestlers would leap out of the ring at their opponents who were between the ring and the safety barrier. Heckling, shouting, booing and cheering seemed to be compulsory though it was only the latter two that we felt able to join in with.
We were in for a big shock when we got outside – it was raining quite heavily. Guess who hadn’t brought his waterproof jacket with him! So, we had to pick a time when the rain eased off and in order to dash back to the Metro station and then on to a restaurant. We couldn’t afford to be too picky so it wasn’t haute cuisine. It was, however, a reminder of one of my favourite adages…
Failing to plan is planning to fail!