Sister and I booked a semi last minute trip. Time off from jobs was preaquired, covid times were still dragging on but things were settling down so we figured why not, keep it simple, but get out of town. We booked on the 16th of February for a departure on the 24th, back home on the 3rd, Thursday to Thursday, and just 6 full days. Which, for us, was just fine. Better than nothing.

I wanted to hit up Mexico City particularly due to a fun little telly special, Taco Chronicles, and in the first episode, suadero street tacos of Mexico City. And yes, they were incredibly delicious and 100% worth it. We had tacos every day, were in hotels right in the old centre and always had great options, but did hit up a couple places numerous times. And easily found the same stall, same chaos as on the telly. Mission accomplished. Life goals achieved.

Beyond the street food, we had a handful of other boxes to tick. It was going to be a busy week. We arrived – touched down – after 10pm on the 24th, took a quick uber to the hotel, checked in quick and tried to get some sleep, heads on pillows by midnight. We flew direct, a nice easy 5.5h flight, so no complaints.

Friday the 25th was sister birthday, per chance you suggest? I assure you not. So, as you do, we went hot air ballooning over Teotihuacán during sunrise. It was bloody cold. Beautiful, but cold. Our driver collected us at the hotel at 5, yes, 5am, and it was a solid 1 hour drive out of the city. Still dark. We all rally at a large field where guests are offered snacks, tea/coffee/concha buns – probably less eating before a potential motion sickness flight is a good idea. We all huddle around the propane patio heaters as dozens of teams assemble and start laying out these massive hot air balloon sheets and the baskets that accompany them. Everyone is offered pictures inside the partially inflated balloons, and its all quite surreal, having never been around such an operation, like circus acid dream.

By 7 we are air bound. Lift off goes smoothly, the fire lifting the balloon warms us. Also in our basket is a group of Americans, the same ages roughly as us, and a sweet Mexican (presumably) granny and her granddaughter. The Americans had attended some sort of wild rave party, so they were slightly under the weather, partially still intoxicated, and hadn’t slept. We floated along, sometimes gaining elevation to be above all the other balloons that were out with us, sometimes low enough to peer down into peoples backyards and aww at their roof dogs.

The gas is only blasted momentarily, so there are times of complete silence as you drift along, hundreds of feet in the air. The juxtaposition of this luxury experience floating over broken down homes was a bit sobering. By 7:45 we were coming in for landing, drifting over a field of cactus, the crew on the ground keeping a close eye on us, about a dozen young guys, as they were going to land the basket, surely very heavy, plus at least a thousand pounds of humans, directly in the trailer of a truck to bring us back to where we took off from! They’d strap everything down securely enough (for Mexico) and we were driven through a few cute little towns on the way back to the muster point. Our same driver fellow was waiting our return, likely having a snooze in his cab. He drove us a short distance down the road to the entrance of Teotihuacán, our request for breakfast was lost in translation. We wandered around for a while, quite a lot of the attraction was still closed off, roped off, either restoration efforts or closures due to covid. Cabby man had another car nap until we returned, and he delivered us to our hotel. Which I should now address, nothing bad, something strange and nice, but definitely strange.

We stayed in Zocalo Central, which was a wonderful old colonial building dating back to the 1890’s, tastefully restored and renovated, 20 minutes from the airport, the rooftop terrace overlooks the zocalo plaza and the national cathedral where Moctezuma’s Palace once stood. Which was all just dandy, but the real tipper was that they had a free cafe for guests. Free. Not trash food, chill snacks, available 24/7. Toasties aka grilled sandwiches (like 8 kinds), with chicken, avocado, fresh veg, or freshly made salads, soups, fruit plates, smoothies, juices, coffee, tea, frappes, packaged snacks like chips. Key when traveling with someone who gets the hanger. The elevator was a bit trash sometimes, but, not that big of a deal. It was a small enough hotel and the front desk staff was always available to help. They also offered a beautiful complimentary breakfast at the rooftop restaurant, with a buffet as well as menu options – American breakfasts and traditional Mexican.

Post ballooning we obv had a siesta, some snacks, ventured out of the hotel and did a lap of the block and settled on a taco spot just one door over from the hotel, mouth watering tacos and refreshing horchata, worth coming back to. We retired to bed early, as we are basically geriatric 30 somethings now.

The next day, now the 26th, we made sure to take advantage of a lovely rooftop breakfast, then off to the museum of Anthropology. We ordered another uber, as that was the suggested safest and most convenient way of transport. We wandered around that end of town and eventually made our way back to where we had our bearings, the old centre. We would be checking out of our beloved Zocalo the next day, dividing the hotels was sisters idea, and sometimes it’s best not to argue. Zocalo had free cafe, but our next hotel had a rooftop pool, and you know how it is, priorities.

Day four was to start bright and early again. You see, this was the whole plan. Booking around excursions. We weren’t just going for the tacos – but, nothing against that as a lifestyle choice either. The end of February is still considered a great time to see the monarch migration, a truly once in a lifetime experience. We booked through airbnb experiences, and completely lucked out with our tour host and having a small relatable group for the day. A lovely young Mexican woman, around our age, picked us up in her car, very knowledgeable, personable, and relatable as she apologized profusely for the nose marks on her car windows from her dog – which, felt like home tbh. She had a lovely husky, and we didn’t mind the nose marks at all. We picked up one other tour goer, Katie from America who was traveling on her own, who was also a dog lover and non breeder. We obviously all got along swimmingly. Our tour guides name was Xóchitl, pronounced “so chill” and she really was. She had traveled quite a bit, the states, Australia and Europe, she loved skiing and adventure and was a great driver and clearly enjoyed her job.

It was about a 2 hour drive to the area where the monarchs cluster en masse. A magical piece of land still owned by the locals and protected. There was talk that the government was trying to gain control, and I can only hope that doesn’t happen. We chose to rent horses for the ride up the mountain, roughly half an hour, and finished off the trek on foot. We had an additional guide to share some information about the monarchs, and show us the way. There must’ve been tens of thousands, in massive clusters, and fluttering around, like falling leaves but not falling to the ground. The monarchs from all over North America are divided into two classifications, east and west of the Rockies. The eastern monarchs, their offspring, will eventually be making their way to central Mexico, while western monarchs will reproduce in inland California.

Some info from http://www.monarchjointventure.org

“Decreasing day length and temperatures, along with aging milkweed and fewer nectar sources trigger a change in monarchs; this change signifies the beginning of the migratory generation. Unlike summer generations that live for two to six weeks as adults, adults in the migratory generation can live for up to nine months. Most monarch butterflies that emerge after about mid August in the eastern U.S. enter reproductive diapause (do not reproduce) and begin to migrate south in search of the overwintering grounds where they have never been before. From across the eastern U.S. and southern Canada, monarchs funnel toward Mexico. Along the way, they find refuge in stopover sites with abundant nectar sources and shelter from harsh weather. Upon reaching their destination in central Mexico beginning in early November, monarchs aggregate in oyamel fir trees on south-southwest facing mountain slopes. These locations provide cool temperatures, water, and adequate shelter to protect them from predators and allow them to conserve enough energy to survive winter.”

Our group had ample time to sit in the forest and watch this amazing occurrence. Monarchs would casually explore if you’d sit still for long enough, happy to flutter by and land on your hat. We eventually said goodbye to the monarchs and retrieved our awaiting horses and made our way back down the mountain. The day was not yet over. We continued on to Valle de Bravo, a charming little lakeside town, with beautiful Spanish architecture and culture, cobblestone streets, beautiful old churches and small shops. I forgot to mention we stopped for lunch too on the way, after getting out of the city, I had a wonderful squash blossom quesadilla, sister had full plate, roadside place, quite nice. Valle de Bravo felt very charming and hip, like a weekend getaway spot for the city locals, you could certainly make a trip out of just staying there, you’d be best to rent a car though, and know your Mexico road etiquette. All in all the tour was perfecto, conversation always felt natural and flowed nicely, Xóchitl said she could hook us up with a nice dentist if we ever need some work done. We wandered around for a bit and got back on the road before it was completely dark, even though we would still be driving in the dark for the majority of the trip home, its a sketchy place for those street dogs, and I try to avert my eyes, but it’s a sad reality thing. We got back to the hotel late, and hit the hay, made sister watch Roma.

Day five was up, March 1st, our second to last day, and it was dedicated to churros. We’re churro freaks. We ubered over to the trendy little neighbourhood of Condesa, which was quaint and lovely, and gave me English Bay vibes, safe & chill, cute rich city. We were a couple minutes late due to traffic, but Christian, the host, from Venezuela, and the other guests (young Americans) were all very welcoming and understanding. Christian started us with a brief overview of the cooking class, as we were also making Mexican hot chocolate, and a brief history of both fried donuts, churros (of Chinese descent) and the discovery of chocolate by the Mayans. We got to work and after not too long we were frying dough and dusting with sugar. As a group we assembled a massive stack of colourful churros, and had a sugar rush inducing feast. In the afternoon we perused around the old town for gifts to bring home, and organized for departure, as our next and final day was going to be very very busy.

I had stumbled upon Grutas Tolantongo on the gram, as you do. Good old sponsored ads. We booked with airbnb experiences, creatures of habit, as they hadn’t failed us yet, and, spoiler, wouldn’t fail us this time either. We left bright and early, it was a solid 4 hour drive northwest of Mexico City in the state of Hidalgo, plus city traffic delays. Once we were out of the city we stopped for empanadas, sweet and savoury, and hot beverages, at some sort of chain fast food place. The drive took us mainly through desert terrain, over some hills and through valleys, and small towns. We reached our destination close to mid day, after one strange covid esque detour, the bus stopped roadside and we all had to disembark and walk ourselves through some sort of post apocalyptic sanitization chamber, while they sprayed some chemicals in the bus. Of course everyone running the place was in full hazmat.

Grutas Tolantongo is a community run operation, a lot like the situation at the monarch sanctuary. Over 100 families own and operate the property, all of the workers are from these families and it is run a bit like a union, where everyone has a say with the goings on. A portion of the profits are reinvested, and the majority of the land is left untouched and closed to the public. The resort offers access to multiple cave systems, fed by volcanic hot springs seeping from the cliffside, a warm river running through the canyon with heavenly turquoise waters coloured by mineral salts, and, my personal favourite, cliffside terraced hot pools. Down side the river is one of two restaurant options, offering quick snacks and drinks, while a more formal sit down establishment is near the end of the development. The tour felt a bit rushed at times, and in hindsight I would’ve preferred less tour of the entire grounds, and more time in the cliffside pools. I could’ve just stayed there. But, in order not to lose track of the group, we were all kept together and herded along like cattle. The majority of our time was spent in the river at the end, which was also fine and very warm, albeit more rustic, with natural clay deposits for a soothing face mask spa experience. We had dinner a the restaurant on site and hit the road back to the city, arriving well after dark.

We packed up our bags and got ready for an early morning departure, pre boarding pcr tests were done at the airport, quite the little cash grab, and we had filled out our Arrive Can app information the day before, screenshooting the necessary pages, luckily, because holy moly was it ever a gong show at the Mexico City airport check in, and a lot of fellow Canadians were not having a good time, making the lines move very slowly. Sister and I parted ways as she was heading to Cabo, and I, back home. I had a light breakfast and collected snacks, because I’ll never rely on airplane food being edible, especially microwaved eggs. February was still high time for mandatory masks, especially in airports and on planes, and, you guessed it, some man child on the flight had an issue with being told what to do. He was seated a row ahead of me, in very clear view, traveling alone, probably in his late 40’s to mid 50’s, and refused to cooperate from the beginning, delaying our departure, but once we were in the air he reverted back to his childlike behaviour, which continued, and ended with him being arrested on arrival. So that was fun.

All in all, good times. I’ve always loved Mexico, and I’d recommend Mexico City to anyone willing to do some exploring and eat great street food. I’d go back in a heartbeat.