First Hours in CDMX

San Jerónimo Street in Mexico City.

Just after 8 am we left our hotel on Calle San Jerónimo and entered the narrow old street. The morning sun glistened on the upper level of the brown brick buildings that seemed to bend with the contour of the street.

Most of the rolling security shutters on the shops were still down. I didn't know if that meant they were not yet open for the day or were closed permanently.

We walked along a busy road toward Mercado de La Merced, a bustling market in the center of Mexico City. Many were just now setting up shop while others pulled vending carts along the side of the road, still unassembled.

Across the street I noted the dome and bell towers of an old church. It was boxed in on both sides by so-called modern buildings, now tarnished and falling apart themselves.

Templo de San Pablo el Nuevo.

At the end of the street we arrived at the market and along the outer extremities crowds began to gather and vendors displayed their wares. On the corner a vendor had already prepared a line of taco meat that filled the air with aroma.

We entered inside the market, but to our disappointment, only a few vendors had set up shop. Looking for breakfast, we returned to the taco stand on the corner.

My mouth watered as I eyed the selection of stewed meats. I chose the alambre since I had never seen that option in the States.

He scooped the warm meat onto four corn tortillas and sprinkled them with onion and cilantro. Two tacos for me and two for Jordan. I drizzled a mystery red sauce over the meat, then we ate them standing up, using a nearby unused vending cart as a table.

The flavorful food hit the spot. The meat practically melted in my mouth. Tacos for breakfast in Mexico City. What else could we ask for ?!

Tacos de alambre.

We walked our way closer to the historic center. I was still amazed that since we had left the airport the night before, we had not seen another tourist. That still held true. Now as we ambled about the streets, they became more full and chaotic with locals on their way to work or wherever they might be going.

We passed by a plaza with yet more street vendors beginning their day. Most of them had large parasols above their booths to protect from sun and rain. They sat casually with their goods, like they had for the last thousand days, completely unaware of two gringo tourists infringing on their world.

I was amazed at how many old churches we saw dotted along the way. Most of them appeared to be from the earlier Colonial Period in the 15― or 1600's, built with gray bricks and rocks, perhaps looted from the old Aztec city.

Street market at Pino Suárez.

Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel. 

Detail on historic building in Mexico City.

I decided to take a closer look at one of these old churches. Like the others, it too was built with gray brick. I noticed the bell tower silhouetted against the blue sky.

Then I saw the plaque on the outer wall. We moved closer and it confirmed that this was the church I had studied about. The plaque read: “Here are the remains of Hernán Cortés.”

Inside the church was simple and unpretentious. Old dim paintings hung on the wall and two lines of pews ran to the front.

At the front, behind a red plaque, embedded in the wall, were the remains of the Spanish Conquistador.⸻I've been to the graves of both Christopher Columbus and Francisco Pizarro, and Hernán Cortés certainly wins the award for the least prestigious memorial.

We returned outside, walking down José María Pino Suárez Street. As we walked I noticed the streets became cleaner and the cafes on the side became more geared toward the tourist. Buildings, it seemed, became older and more grand.⸻Then we saw it. We came to a massive plaza with the cathedral on the far side and a large Mexican flag in the center. This was the Zócalo. ♠

Church with the tomb of Hernán Cortés.