We've decided to take a trip to the Xochimilco canals and have arranged for a driver to pick us up after our usual breakfast at the organic place. The weather has gotten sunnier, but it is still a little nippy when we get to the canal area after about 30 minutes of driving in murderous traffic through unattrative urban areas. When we finally reach the quay, the colorful boats are moored in several rows, one next to the other, on the narrow canal
and we pick one offered by a jeans-clad youth with uneven teeth. A price is agreed upon: ap. $44 for 2 hours, the two of us alone on a boat for 8. The cab-driver will wait for our return. The boy calmly punts the boat through the throng of barges and we start our circuit of the canals, which at first are polluted and lined with makeshift buldings guarded by unhappy tethered dogs. When the canals open into a quiet Monet-like landscape, we are startled by the appearance of a carpet salesman on a canoe,
but once free of him we can enjoy the light splash when the pole goes in, the swooping birds, the vegetation reflected in the still water. It is quite lovely - and also quite amazing that such tranquility can exist behind the crowded highways. We punt along an ecological reserve where we come upon 'free pigs' foraging in the fields and observe a number of them sleeping peacefully in a shady spot under the trees.
After discussing the limited possibilites open to us due to the fact that all museums are closed on Mondays in Mexico, we ask the driver to take us to San Ángel, a colonial town described as similar to our own Coyoacán. Sán Angel turns out to be a huge urban area, again with a lot of traffic, where the driver only after much insistence on our part drops us in the Plaza San Jacinto, which is indeed surrounded by pretty colonial buildings and exudes the air of a provincial town from another era.
We start looking for a restaurant and many recommend the San Ángel Inn, which the first person informs us lies 5-10 minutes away. We wander uphill on cobblestones past very fancy and beautiful houses with much security - and no restaurant. We then ask some passing ladies who exclaim how wonderful this restaurant is and swear it lies 5-10 minutes away. We're tired now and wonder whether this description is just a manner of speaking for Mexicans. This is confirmed when another guy - 5-10 minutes away - says it lies: 5-10 minutes away. We're hot and crabby and go into the first restaurant we see, La Bueno Fé, which turns out to be less than great. We also later learn that the San Angel Inn is indeed fabulous and also located in front of Diego Rivera's house. Well, in travel as in life you win some and you lose some. Speaking of losing, when we much later - having suffered in a bank for maybe 30 minutes to change $300 - take a cab to go home, I realize I have lost my (prescription) Ray-Bans. Fortunately Mexican cab drivers are inordinately polite and this one drives us up and down until we find the glasses at the restaurant.
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