Thursday night took me south to the most immediate, albeit banal, landmark in my morning vista. The big green monolith with its less than charming cylindrical cap is, just after the American pop and Spanish talk that weens me from dreams to reality, the most recurring feature of my mornings (although my eye usually drifts immediately to the hazier, more haunting volcanoes in the distance).
I had only two intentions that night: find the base of that tower (which proved further and more elusive than I thought), and to see how a hamburguesa stacks up to it's counterpart from the north. On the first matter, I found exactly what I was looking for. Besides a rather tedious, soaring Calatrava knock off (flash without the WOW factor that I must concede to the Spanish charlatan) at it's base, which I admit I was too disinterested to even record in photo, I was even less impressed with the tower up close than I am from afar. Apparently, it is the WTC for the DF, a name which I'm sure predates 9/11 and demonstrates the overwhelming influence of American business interests in the western hemisphere (for neither W nor T accurately reflect a Spanish abbreviation). Nevertheless, I was still awed at the sheer number of people, especially young people, loitering around the base. Why would literally hundreds of people be hanging out in front of what, from what I can tell, is merely an office building surrounded by a few business looking hotels and American-style bar & restauraunt chains? There is a pretty nice mid-century modernist neighborhood between the tower and the Viaducto Presidente Miguel Aleman (a real hard edge just to south which exhibits the la ciudad's marriage to the auto, the homeless presence, and some of the city's more adventurous architectural vernacular).
This neighborhood, aside from being haunted by the tamales oaxacenos which are omnipresent all over the district, is named for American cities and states. La Calle Chicago has some real chamers, and not just a few of the classic Detroit beauties which turn my head when I'm not looking at the other kind.
On the second count, I found what I was looking for just a block from the base of the big bore. Hamburguesa's MEMOrables. Aside from the Queso Oaxaca, I found the burger to be nothing more or less than something I could find in Murray Hill. Sure, it was tasty, and big, and they do serve it with jalopeno's instead of pickles on the side, but otherwise it was just a big tasty burger.
Still adjusting to the peso, I screwed them on the tip which, when I realized my error brought me a great deal of grief which could only be alleviated when I returned to make up the difference. More than to 'do the right thing', I did it mainly just to lift the burden of guilt from my own shoulders, which I think is as good a motivation as any. Afterall, in the end, we were all much happier so what sense is there in paining my latent Catholic tendencies?
Anyway amigos, check in tomorrow when I post pictures from Teotihuacan. Hasta luego.
I had only two intentions that night: find the base of that tower (which proved further and more elusive than I thought), and to see how a hamburguesa stacks up to it's counterpart from the north. On the first matter, I found exactly what I was looking for. Besides a rather tedious, soaring Calatrava knock off (flash without the WOW factor that I must concede to the Spanish charlatan) at it's base, which I admit I was too disinterested to even record in photo, I was even less impressed with the tower up close than I am from afar. Apparently, it is the WTC for the DF, a name which I'm sure predates 9/11 and demonstrates the overwhelming influence of American business interests in the western hemisphere (for neither W nor T accurately reflect a Spanish abbreviation). Nevertheless, I was still awed at the sheer number of people, especially young people, loitering around the base. Why would literally hundreds of people be hanging out in front of what, from what I can tell, is merely an office building surrounded by a few business looking hotels and American-style bar & restauraunt chains? There is a pretty nice mid-century modernist neighborhood between the tower and the Viaducto Presidente Miguel Aleman (a real hard edge just to south which exhibits the la ciudad's marriage to the auto, the homeless presence, and some of the city's more adventurous architectural vernacular).
This neighborhood, aside from being haunted by the tamales oaxacenos which are omnipresent all over the district, is named for American cities and states. La Calle Chicago has some real chamers, and not just a few of the classic Detroit beauties which turn my head when I'm not looking at the other kind.
On the second count, I found what I was looking for just a block from the base of the big bore. Hamburguesa's MEMOrables. Aside from the Queso Oaxaca, I found the burger to be nothing more or less than something I could find in Murray Hill. Sure, it was tasty, and big, and they do serve it with jalopeno's instead of pickles on the side, but otherwise it was just a big tasty burger.Still adjusting to the peso, I screwed them on the tip which, when I realized my error brought me a great deal of grief which could only be alleviated when I returned to make up the difference. More than to 'do the right thing', I did it mainly just to lift the burden of guilt from my own shoulders, which I think is as good a motivation as any. Afterall, in the end, we were all much happier so what sense is there in paining my latent Catholic tendencies?
Anyway amigos, check in tomorrow when I post pictures from Teotihuacan. Hasta luego.
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