The Speakeasy

If you don’t love a good speakeasy you have no sense of adventure at all. When I graduated from college I had a BFF that went to work in Manhattan and I was so fortunate to take many trips to the big apple.  But even better than spending time there was having a local to show me around.  And we loved going to the bars with no names.  There’s something special about knowing where the locals go.  So far we have found only a couple of such places in Mexico City and here is where I’ll tell you about one of our local speakeasies.

A few weeks ago a friend visited from San Francisco, Marcel.  He used to live here in the City and in fact went to high school with Andy.  We were out to dinner, wrapping up and relaxing when Marcel mentioned he wanted to go hear some live jazz.  He recommended Parker and Lenox.  We hadn’t been but always love trying new places and even though we are not true lovers of jazz we went along to check the place out and extend the evening.  When we arrived at the address there was a building, yellowish in color with an unrecognizable symbol for their signage.  No street number, no name, no nothing to indicate we had arrived at the correct location.  When we peaked inside there were a few tables and a diner style bar.  There certainly wasn’t a stage present nor a sole in the place.  We walked the side streets hoping to happen upon the correct address.  But with no luck we returned to the original location to ask a hostess if they knew where it where it might be. 

She smiled and told us to follow her.  I thought she misunderstood was going to seat us at a table.  But we walked past all of the tables, down a long dark and narrow hall.  At the end she pulled back a long black velvet curtain that ran floor to ceiling and let us pass through.  We were there, in the jazz club with live music going in that familiar syncopated rhythmic patterns.  The place was full of people.  There was a bar with people standing from their seats and swaying on their feet.  There were loungers and pillows near the stage full of people looking up at the stage, watching the band, with smiles from ear to ear.  There was other various seating around the rather small room with the squat ceiling.  We were able to get what seemed to be the last small table near the door.  The drinks arrived quickly and the music was excellent jazz, although sans a singer.  It was strictly instrumental.  We sat for a couple of sets and enjoyed the night before saying goodbye to Marcel.  And the bonus?  Parker and Lenox is located blocks from our current apartment and we enjoyed a nice walk back.  And now that we know how to find the place we will certainly be back, especially with our visitors that want to go where the locals know.

“Fish, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”

Last weekend we attended an age old Mexican pastime.  We went to the bullfights.  They are held seasonally at Plaza de Toros.  The first time we attended the bullfights I completely fell besotted.  We try to attend at least once each time we are in CDMX.  I know many complain about the ritual, and don’t even get PETA started.  No, not People Eating Tasty Animals.  The other one. I thought I would share some of my experiences with you and hope if you find yourself in Mexico City, you may consider giving the bullfights a try.

In order to arrive at the Plaza you walk the gauntlet of vendors selling all matter of tacos and bullfight souvenirs from bota bags (yes your wine is allowed inside) to all the textiles you can imagine imprinted with bulls.  At the end of the gauntlet you arrive at the row of ticket counters. Above the ticket window there is signage for the seats selections that are available at the particular window.  Generally you can buy tickets in the Sol (sunny) side or the Sombra (shady) side.  This particular day it was overcast so we selected the Sol side as those tickets are a little less expense and we were just below the general seating section.  Our tickets were $350 pesos each, about $18 US dollars each. 

Each time we visit the Plaza I spend some time marveling at the sheer size of the venue.  Upon arrival you have to look up, way up, to the top of the massive gates that you walk through to enter and at the top of the heavy iron gates is a colossal series of statues of charging and stampeding bulls being herded by a loan horsemen.  They are seemingly life sized and lively, apparently in motion.  It is nothing short of breathtaking.  There is no shortage of artwork here.  The outer arena is full of statues, busts, and reliefs that commemorate long past bulls and fighters alike.

Plaza de Torros is the largest bull fighting arena in the world at a whopping 41,262 seats.   And as you climb the stairs and enter into the seating area it’s hard to take in the enormity. You feel lost in time and it truly feels like a privilege to just be there.  So you take your seat and at 4:30 sharp the parade of characters begins.  Everyone from the arena caretakers, to the picadoras, to the matadors fighting that day arrive on the scene in a parade across the arena to continual applause. 

Once everyone has cleared the arena the card holder comes with a card overhead that tells you the name of the bull, when it was born, and who its breeder was.  And only then is the bull released into the arena to much, much applause, and then the dance with death begins. You know, they say there are three stages to bull fighting with the final stage being the death of the bull.  But I feel there is a fourth and that is when the beautiful large, harnessed and decorated, horses come out to remove the bull from the arena.  The horns play a slow, wretched tribute to the bull.  This is the unhappy pageantry of the fourth stage.

Do you think this ritual is a worthy tradition?  A cultural legacy that should continue?  Or is this immoral and cruel?  In 2011 Spain stopped their 600 year tradition of bullfighting.  Is Mexico next?  I don’t know, but I am glad I have had the privilege to see the fights I have been to and will continue going as long as there are fights. 

PRO TIP:  You can buy your ticket at Ticketmaster but please don’t bother.  You will never find the Ticketmaster counter and you can always get a seat when you buy tickets on location.

My yelp review of, as Andy calls it, the best steak in Mexico.  The Capital Grille

Podcast Episode 1: Our voices, unleashed!

Show Notes

CLICK ON THE TITLE TO LISTEN TO THE PODCAST!

• Who are we?
• Letting Go AKA Storage Woes
• Getting rid of stuff
• We're not minimalists
• Our photo journal
• About our blog
• We're not on vacation
• Setting expectations for this podcast: Once per month
• What does Presently Somewhere mean?

Other notes: We included the city noise for ambiance. Yay or nay? I probably need to slow down a bit and hopefully, I won't be so congested!

Let us know what you think. Thanks!

Presently Somewhere,

Andy

Photo Journal

Our first podcast (Presently Somewhere)

We are scheduled to record our first podcast for Presently Somewhere today.  We will introduce ourselves and talk briefly about our history and how we got started with Presently Somewhere.  We will also be exploring where we are going with the blog and podcast.  What we would like the content to be and explore if there are changes on the horizon.  We will also let listeners know what they can find on our blog.   This will be fun.  If there is anything you want us to discuss or write about, anything we can share based on our experience please let us know!  We will love to hear from you.

Wow.  Here we are.  2019.  It’s already been 20 years since I was going to party like its 1999.  Remember Y2K and all of that nonsense?  We have come so far since.  I know younger people do not understand that some of us lived in a world without internet or cell phones.  Hell, when I learned to drive I didn’t even have to wear a seat belt.   I did drive too fast, friends piled tight into the car hanging from the windows and sunroof, with Prince partying all other thoughts from my head on mixed tape.  Good memories.  Let’s take a minute to imagine the world in 2039.  I have some interesting ideas of what that will be like, but that’s a blog for another day.

For now, I work fairly regularly on understanding where I am now, how I got here, and literally, what’s next.  We just spent the holidays back in San Antonio with family.  I won’t say “home” for the holidays anymore since I really don’t have that feeling.  As we left San Antonio I felt relieved to be coming home as we returned to Mexico City.  I felt relaxed and relieved to be back.  The trip was hard, I think, on both of us.  Firstly, the Steelers lost to the Saints.  So let’s get that out of the way.  But back in San Antonio there was an immediate rush of crap we left behind that just seemed to flood us with the “oh yea, this is why we left” vibe. 

We were immediately brought to our knees with allergies.  It is cedar season. We are still recovering the onset of sinus issues even a week later.  And it seemed that all of the long drives to get anywhere we want to be is just never ending.  Every time I get into the car to go somewhere, it feels like I’m holding my breath for 20 minutes during the long, boring drives.  Since living in cities with walkability off the charts, any car ride seems long.  But in SA, they seem forever with nothing really to look at except miles and miles of parking lots.  We made a trip downtown to see the new addition to the skyline.  Frost Bank Tower.  It was depressing.  I had such high hopes for a beautiful new building to grace the skyline.  But it was just ugly.  The top was rimmed with red lights, I’m assuming for Christmas and Andy commented: It looks like Jughead’s hat.  And it did.  We didn’t see any friends during the visit, but I am not sure we really wanted to as it seemed a chance to let some things pass to the past. 

But we spent quite a bit of time with family.  And that was the purpose of the trip as it had been many years since we were all together.  From family rifts to illness and travel, so many things have been in the way of us being together.  This was the year to put everything aside, spend some time together, catch up, and even meet our newest family member, a small boy named Elliot.  And just like each one of our nieces and nephews (a baker’s dozen) I loved him right away.  It was a great Christmas holiday time.  It was special and I wouldn’t change a thing.  Even though San Antonio didn’t really pan out, being with family for those few days added a lot of joy to my heart.   We are already planning the next family visit.  My FIL turns 80 in June.  We think that’s going to be a good time for a celebration.  Vegas perhaps?