Mexico City Day 1 – Solo Traveler In CDMX

When I was in college, back in the dark ages of skeleton keys and no internet, we bought these books called “Let’s Go Europe” or “Let’s Go Latin America” to find out how to travel down the well-worn paths. I went all over Europe with two friends, a backpack and that dog-eared book. Never would I conceive of going alone. Now, thanks to the Internet, it seems that solo travel is popular, especially among women. Now that we have Facebook groups, Airbnb experiences, Bumble, and a million articles telling you how to travel, I feel like I can safely and confidently travel alone.

However, a few things I try to keep in mind.

1. Always stay alert. There is nobody there to pick up the slack.
2. Take time to get organized.
3. Understand that anything can happen. (For example, in Mexico City and many other countries, traffic lights are merely a suggestion.;-)

I love Mexico. As soon as I smelled the diesel, fruit and taco smell, I felt at home. I spent a lot of time in Mexico and Latin America as a kid and in high school and the culture and language feels like it brings out more joyful personality. (America does the opposite). And, yet, the fact remains that Mexico is a third world country and a place where I am not a citizen. So back to point one, “always stay alert.”

On my first day, I woke up late and had breakfast at my hotel/bed and breakfast place. The guy who runs the my Bed and Breakfast, asked me about my plans. I wasn’t sure if he was being a concierge or hitting on me..( a little of both, but mostly the latter).

I decided to take the Metro to the Centro Historico where I had signed up for a Guru Walking Tour. I forgot that the first day in a new city is always a cluster of confusion, disorientation and purse chaos. I tried to change money, but they told me I needed my passport, so I came back to the hotel. The sun was blazing so I bought sunscreen and later a hat. I found my way to the metro under the guidance of google maps and to the Centro Historico feeling hot, my battery in the red, and annoyed that my purse had become a black hole. I needed to regroup so I stopped at a restaurant “El Cardenal” and ordered salmon with a mango sauce and a sparkling water, used the bathroom, charged my phone, figured out the currency exchange rate and where I need to go for my walking tour. As I mentioned in step 2, I took the time to get organized. This is when I started to feel a little overwhelmed by the heat and realized that the altitude of Mexico City, 7300 feet above sea level, was affecting me. (I live at sea level.)

As I began the Walking Tour I began to feel worse. Other than that, the tour was fantastic. We walked through the Centro Histórico, saw the Palacio Postal, which is really what a post office should look like, the Catedral Metropolitana, and the Zocalo Plaza. At about the time my guide, Manolo, told us about the fist fight between Picasso and Diego River I barely had the energy to shout out “Picasso was an asshole.” At that point though all I could think about was the possibility that I could face plant in the middle of the Zocalo Plaza and how I would forever be known to the other participants as the Lady of Who Fainted in The Zocalo WTF.

I bowed out of the tour early and drank water in the shade. Once I felt better I got into an Uber to my next event, a Churro Making Class, because contrary to all travel logic, I planned two activities for my first day in Mexico City. I found it through AirBnB experiences which I highly recommend for solo travelers. I met a bunch of other solo travelers, and together we grated sugar, sifted flour, beat the batter, poured it in boiling oil, made shapes, covered the churros with sugar and cinnamon and ate them with chocolate mixed with chili and coffee. I spent time with what I guess is Generation Z and totally didn’t realize that I could be everyone’s mother.

When it was over, all I could think about was a shower and a fruit or vegetable. I found a mercado and bought fruit, including mango, which I have always associated with Mexico. As a kid traveling through Mexico, my mother and I ate many mangoes in hotel rooms. It never struck me as weird at that time, but when I got home and cut the mangos with a knife from the kitchen it occurred to me that this is not in any guidebook about Mexico. So I recommend a Hotel Mango, just cuz. Anyway, I ate the mangos with Kombucha because I couldn’t stomach food with the heat and altitude. And I took a shower that was either scalding hot or cold…because, well, it’s Mexico.

Next Up: Frida Kahlo.