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December 30, 2006

Quotes From The Hotel Colonial Guest Services Directory

Hotel Colonial, Puebla
4 Sur 105

SERVICE DIRECTORY
HOTEL COLONIAL DE PUEBLA, S.A. DE C.V.

If you want a more pleasant stay, consider the following:

1 - The visits of friends or family members are not permitted in the rooms.

2 - All visitors can be received in the Lobby at a reasonable hour.

[...]

LAUNDRY SERVICE

1 - For this service there is a plastic bag, you only have to report it to the administration before leaving the hotel.

2 - This service in from 8:00 to 11:00 am we will return it the same day at 9:00 pm.

[...]


SAFETY DEPOSIT BOX SERVICE

1 - To deposit your vaulables you may arrange it with the administration from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm.

2 - You may only receive deposits from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm hour, you must notify the administration twelve hours in advance.


REGLAMENTO

[...]

WE ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOSTS IN THE ROOMS MONEY AND VALUE OBJETS MUST BE DEPOSITED IN THE OFFICE.

THE HEALT BOARD DOESN'T ALLOW DOGS OR OTHER ANIMALS IN THE ROOMS.

Posted by crispy at 09:44 AM | Comments (1)

December 29, 2006

Number 12 or There's No Such Thing as a Free Lounge

People make mistakes. It's a fact of life. I make mistakes on a daily basis, but the magnitude of those mistakes vary from error to error. I sometimes forget to turn the fan off when I leave the apartment. If the way I find out about this mistake is by returning home to find it humming along quietly and not by coming back to a pile of ashes on the corner where our apartment building was, with all our neighbors staring at me angrily through tear-clouded eyes, it's not that big a mistake.

The discovery on the day that we were to leave for our vacation that I had booked our return airline tickets for the wrong day was of the variety wherein you get a sinking feeling in your gut that the consequences of such a slip up are going to be very unpleasant. I figured we could probably switch the tickets, and if nothing else, buy all new ones, since they're on one of Mexico's new budget domestic airlines. Yet I suspected that it would be relatively costly to do so and a royal pain in the kiester to have to deal with customer service, in Spanish, over the phone.

Thank God for Charles. I don't say that enough, but it's true. He pulls my fat out of the fire on more occasions that I like to admit.

At my request, he arrived early (he was driving us to the airport too) to make calls and try to fix everything. He called the airline, and for the price of one ticket, he got them to switch both our tickets. Since we had to pay to switch the tickets anyway, Shawn and I decided to extend our trip by a day. This was possible because of a scheduling error on the part of Shawn's employer, wherein he doesn't return to work until several days after when we though he'd have to return to work when we were booking all our travel arrangements. The only problem with extending our stay was that we'd have to change our hotel reservations also. Once again, Charles came to the rescue, calling the hotels and changing the dates around: one extra day in Cuernavaca, and shifting our four days in Puebla by one day, arriving one day later and leaving one day later.

The only hitch was that in Cuernavaca, at the Casa Colonial, we'd have one room for the first two nights, then we'd have to switch rooms. We'd have to get up and pack just to change rooms, but overall, not a big hassle for getting to stay in the same hotel. It would have been worse to have to relocate to another place across town. The hotel even helped out by storing our luggage in a basement in the time where we were out of our room and waiting to take the new room. We didn't want to have to fold up all our clothes that had come back from being ironed the day before, and they took our clothes on hangers and hung them up too, so that we'd not have to stuff them into suitcases just to change rooms.

I sat by the pool, writing and awaiting word that the new room was ready for us to move in, and sure enough, at around 2:30, a nice young lad came over and told me that it was time. He hefted all our luggage and clothes on hangers to the new room, Number 12.

Our previous room had been Number 5, on the third floor, in what seemed like a gussied-up maids quarters. It was nice, but the three flights of stairs we'd have to climb every time we returned from being out, having to cross over the balconies that were adjacent to other rooms, and the small space was a bit of a drag. When I saw that Number 12 was on the first floor, I was relieved that we'd not have to climb what seemed like Mount Everest to get to our room. When I entered and saw the space, I was stunned. It was the same price per night as Number 5, but it was huge, had an extra bedroom and a fireplace! It was so big that it seemed like a small ballet studio with a bed placed on one side. Fancy artwork adorned the walls, and unlike Number 5, it even had a writing desk with a three-prong outlet so that I could plug in my computer. Writer's bliss!

It was so big it felt like we could have our own private lounge in the other two-thirds of the room not occupied by the king size bed.

Shawn and I discussed the difference in quality for the same price. Something had to be wrong with the room. But it seemed so much better in so many ways: hotter water and more pressure than upstairs in Number 5, brighter, more evenly-spaced lighting, a bigger closet, a fireplace, higher ceilings, and did I mention, no three flights of stairs?. I commented that the only thing I could figure out was that the room faced the street, and that the street was pretty busy. Shawn suggested that it would calm down at night, and I agreed, although I pointed out that it would probably pick up again in the morning when we wanted to sleep in.

Now, I don't have much trouble sleeping through loud noise. But what happened to us in the morning was like something out of an "I Love Lucy" episode. I woke up at around 8 am, to the sound of buses driving by to the terminal on the corner. The bus from Mexico City, the very line we were on, arrives every 15 minutes, and other buses from other places arrive at this terminal also. So bus noise was more or less a constant after 8 am.

I had to go to the bathroom, so I did, and upon returning to the main area of the room, I found that Shawn had gotten up and moved into the second bedroom that was adjacent to the interior courtyard so he could sleep. I sat down to write, and then in addition to the bus noise, someone across the street in a business started playing banda music really, really loud. You might have read elsewhere on this blog, of all the musical genres of Mexico, banda is my least favorite.

At one point, people passing by on the sidewalk right below our window stopped to yell at someone across the street, and their ensuing conversation was a series of shouts above the roar of the buses.

I put on my headphones and turned on my iTunes. A little music, perhaps at a volume slightly louder than I'd like, helped to drown out the chaos raging outside the quiet little enclave of the Casa Colonial. I could get back to writing.

Then all of a sudden, a table saw starts up and the blade rings out briefly before the screeching of it ripping wood apart. It sounds like it's right next door to our room. I look through the curtain on the wall that had covered the window overlooking what I thought was just a storage room for the hotel. To my surprise, a hotel employee was sawing pieces of wood in this impromptu wood shop in the storage room, right next to our room, at 8:30 am. It went on for a good ten minutes. I got a reprise at around 10:00.

So if you come to the Casa Colonial in Cuernavaca, unless you're a very heavy sleeper or are one of those crack-of-dawn types, don't get Number 12. And always be sure to double-check the details of your online ticket purchases before you click "Send."

Posted by crispy at 10:06 AM | Comments (1)

Pretty/Tasty

Cuernavaca is the capital of the state of Morelos. The state's name comes from a famous Afro-Mexican revolutionary, José María Morelos, who figured prominently in the war for independence, and it was this state that was the home of Emiliano Zapata, one of the biggies in the revolution. The capital is about 85 km (50 miles) south of Mexico City, making it a relatively short bus ride, traffic permitting.

I had always heard about Cuernavaca being a beautiful colonial town with perfect weather throughout the year, and it certainly lives up to that reputation. It is certainly a colonial town with a lot of the old stuff left in-tact: a cathedral that looks like a fortress when it's lit up at night, the Palacio de Cortés (which looks like a fortress at any time of day), and lots of smaller works like homes that endure from that era. And the weather is beautiful.

My experiences in colonial towns are also starting to show me that they usually have some great restaurants too. First there was the Café y Nevería Acrópolis in Zacatecas, and now I've stumbled across the Tratoría Marco Polo (Hidalgo 26; 777/318-40-32) in Cuernavaca. Located right across from the cathedral, it's located upstairs in a building that has an arcade of shops on the bottom floor. Their balcony overlooks the street and the cathedral and is nothing short of "charming." They have a wide range of food, and there is a lot of it that lacto-ovo vegetarians like us can eat. I'm usually not one to repeat visits to restaurants when faced with a limited amount of time in a city, unless (like Vege Taco of Coyoacán), their food is interesting and well-prepared. We ate at the Marco Polo three times during our visit, and I'm already looking forward to a return visit in the future.

We also ate at the Casa Hidalgo (Hidalgo 6; 777/312-27-49), a more hip and fancy joint located right across from the Palacio de Cortés. There were a number of things we could eat there too, most of them being pasta. Since we'd had our fill of that at the Tratoría Marco Polo, we opted for the chiles rellenos, filled with cheese. You can also get them filled with meat, like they serve them at el Rancherito in Olney, Illinois. This is a property owned by the same folks that own the hotel where we're staying, the Casa Colonial. The Casa Hidalgo also has rooms, but I can't say anything about those as we didn't stay there.

I have to admit that we did not eat at what is supposedly one of the most famous restaurants in the country: Las Mañanitas (Ricardo Linares 107; 777/362-00-00), which is also a fancy resort-style hotel. People can't say enough about this place, but we didn't venture out that way because we stayed within walking distance of our hotel and while they have a diverse and ever-changing menu, everything I read about them mentioned only dishes with meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat. One hates to make a reservation, get all dressed up, take a cab out to a place, go through the whole sit-down-order-drinks process, only to look at the menu and realize that the only thing he can get is a small salad. No, if we're going to that much trouble and expense, I want to know in advance that I can get something interesting that I like. I want to know I can enjoy the food as much as some meat-eating-José that goes there and has his run of the whole menu. Since Las Mañanitas doesn't publish their menu online (again, it changes frequently), and as they don't make any mention on their web site about having interesting vegetarian dishes, we opted out.

Of course, there's a lot more to Cuernavaca than old buildings and food. Malcolm Lowry's book, "Under the Volcano" was set here (although the town is called something else). Jazz greats Charles Mingus and Gil Evans died here, seeking indigenous treatments for terminal illnesses. Many gringos come here to study Spanish, and it's a great place for that because it's small, manageable and safe.

If you're a gringo and you come here, I can also recommend Casa Colonial for your accomodation needs. I expected it to be an overpriced "colonial" (read: old, no A/C, no hot water, no Internet) hotel, but in truth, it's not bad for the price. There are some limitations: a relatively limited breakfast (and no other meals) in the "restaurant," lots and lots and lots of stairs, windows without curtains that other guests can look into as they walk to and from their rooms, not-entirely-hot water, sketchy cable that comes and goes, having to get someone to open the gated entrance for you every time you come and go, a bar that is only attended if you ask for it to be, and Internet only reliable in the public areas. But it's kept spotless, the appointments are incredible (real, original contemporary art!), the beds are comfortable, the plumbing works, sewer gas from the shower drains is minimal (and they even give you covers for the drains), and most of all (and this alone makes up for all the other shortcomings), the views and the courtyard are spectacular.

Just make sure you don't get Number 12...

Posted by crispy at 07:53 AM | Comments (2)

December 28, 2006

To Cuernavaca

Taxi from the Zona Rosa to the Central Camionera del Sur, the 25 minutes costs us 250 pesos. Shawn throws in an extra 50 since the old guy driving helps us pull our bags out of the trunk, bags that have expanded with a few items we picked up in the Distrito Federal. Pass through the entrance into the terminal - CROWD - Mexicans from all over going all over. Jump into the current of one of the pedestrian canals flowing around the islands of still standing passengers waiting for who knows what all massed together. Find the Pullman de Morelos counter, figure out the proper line: Cuernavaca Centro, not Cuernavaca Casino de la Selva. Cash down for the tickets. Two at 62 pesos each. Involuntary gringo calculations pop into my head: 45 miles, 6 bucks.

Pulman de Morelos first class not up to snuff, a far cry from their Clase Ejecutivo Dorado, stylin', individual video screens, stewardesses, complimentary drinks, snacks. OUR ride: narrow seats, seat belt catch digging into my ass, air vents blow limp, headrest catching me at my shoulders. In front of me, passenger reclines his seat, putting it four inches from my chest. Movie on CRT screens four rows up: FBI co-opted canine runs off to become beloved bow-wow of latchkey loner, pursued by moronic maladroit mafiosos. Our stewardess, an old man with a ratty cardboard box selling warm juice and peanuts walking up then down the aisle.

Estimated trip time, one hour, fifteen minutes. At 40 minutes in, on the highway, we slow to a dead stop. People out of their cars, smoking, stretching, walking. Cops go by on the shoulder with sirens running. No view. Sun blazing through the glass. Waiting. Sitting. ETA comes and goes. Finally we start folling again slowly. Eventually we pass the cause of the bottleneck: a Jarritos truck has dumped several pallets of sodas all over the ground at a sharp curve in the road. Others stopped, scavenging unbroken bottles from among the splintered wood, torn sheets of plastic, paper, other trash thrown out of the window of passing cars. Past that return to speed, barreling down the highway.

Hit town, slow down, several jerky stops and turns to get to the terminal in el centro. Just before arrival, still rolling, everyone on the bus gets up and fights to be the first at the front of the bus to get off first. After sitting for 40 minutes at a stop on the highway, that two-minute advantage is really going to make a big difference. Call it - that Mexican obsession with jumping others in line. Crazy-loco for a country where the busiest day of the week is mañana.

Nos bajamos del camión, pick up our bags from a handler annoyed at our being the last ones to get our bags and in no rush. Taxi driver following, near chasing us, "¿Taxi, amigos? ¿Información? ¿Hotel?"

"No, no, no...gracias."

Walk out the bus entrance, climb up the hill on the sidewalk, not wide enough for a human and his suitcase. Time and again, forced down onto the street, narrow, cars honking, dust blowing, sun beating down, sweating, heavy suitcases, even on rollers. Gringos walking, definitely out of place, out of their element. Gringo gawk BIG TIME. Hotel reservations clerk directions for arrival: bus station a un costado del hotel - to the side of. Walk different sides of bus station, but no hotel. Try to ask directions of a man standing nearby. Tries to sell me a credit card. Doesn't know the area well enough to help because he's been in town only a week. Go to a cremería, ask "¿Dónde está el hotel que se llama 'Casa Colonial'?" Nobody knows. Suggestion: call for directions, say you're on Calle Morelos.

Phone. I hate the phone. The phone in Spanish is even worse. Try to find a quiet spot where I can hear over bus noise nonstop. Dial. Ring. Desk clerk answers, here we go. On Morelos, can't find hotel. Clerk says something about the cathedral, walking towards it, I ask how far maybe? Five blocks.

Go back out to street and collect Shawn, pressing on away from the terminal, towards the cathedral. Uneasy feeling - going away from bus terminal, going away from hotel if the station really is a un costado del hotel. Walk, uphill, sweat, GAWK, buses roaring by, taxis stopping, honking, pointing, "?" Big time frustration.

Shawn: what's the street address? I don't know. Unpack all my stuff to get to confirmation email printout. No address. Great. Shawn: call again. Ugh.

Dial, ring, desk clerk, again.

Hi, nervous laugh, lost gringo again! What is your street address?

Clerk says indigenous name that sounds like 20 consonants crammed together. Losing it, cracking up. "Uuuuuuuh.....repita, por favor."

Netzcuhwah...bus ROAR...tuhcuhultuh...ROAR...pecutuhwattle...ROAR...uh-something.

One last time?

Nothing but HONK...ROAR..."otl."

Sigh. "Bueno. Gracias. Si no nos vemos pronto, nos hablamos por teléfono otra vez."

Shawn gets brilliant idea: look at map in travel guide. Find street with indigenous name (Netzahualcóyotl) a block to the east. Head that way. Down to three blocks. Shawn runs up the street one way and sees nothing. Suggests: call again.

GRRRRR! Dial, ring, desk clerk, AGAIN.

Maybe exasperated, but staying cool: walk away from this building, toward this building, hotel is yellow, on the left, across the street diagonally from the bus terminal.

"To the side"? Not exactly.

Walking, dragging, sweating. Find the hotel, but not the entrance. Have to ask at neighboring coffee shop, where is the entrance to the hotel?

Friendly barrista walks me outside, points out the buzzer at the closed door.

Arrival: Casa Colonial, Cuernavaca.

BUZZZZZZZZZZ!

Posted by crispy at 09:03 AM | Comments (0)

December 25, 2006

Starstruck!

We used to live in Los Angeles. Anyone who lives there for a certain period of time experiences the phenomenon where they'll look up and see someone they recognize, only to subsequently realize it's not someone they know personally, but some celebrity that they know from television, movies, newspapers or tabloids. It's a strange phenomenon, but after a while you get used to it.

Then you move away and it just doesn't happen in other places. You get used to being in Zanesville, Ohio and not running into Kelsey Grammer with your shopping cart as you round an aisle in the grocery store. Life goes back to normal and famous people stay where they belong, on those screens and pages.

Shawn and I were out having dinner in Condesa and I wanted to go by Cinnabar, a hotspot in Condesa that is reported to have good cocktails. We're walking down Nuevo León toward the bar and chatting about our impressions of the neighborhood when no one other than Uriel del Toro walks by us in the other direction. URIEL DEL FREAKING TORO. The drop-dead, gorgeous, absolutely perfect Mexican fashion model that also has a show on Telehit, the Mexican music channel.

If you know me, you probably know what a thing I have for this guy. And unless you're a lesbian, straight man or dead, who wouldn't?


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Uriel del Toro, on Telehit

After he walked by, I was utterly speechless. Hell, I was utterly breathless. Shawn turned to me and started to mention how that guy was really hot. Finally, I was able to mouth "DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT WAS?!" and Shawn wasn't sure. I had to try about three sentences, but at last I was able to get his name out, and Shawn didn't recognize that, so I had to tell him it was the guy I'm crazy about on that video show. Then he recognized who it was.

That will probably be the incident I remember most about this trip: seeing my favorite Mexican sex symbol in the flesh, not more than two feet from me.

You can say all you want about the evils of big city living, and I've been grouching about Mexico City the whole time we've been here. Yet there is a certain magic to moments like those, that only happen in big, glamorous, sexy cities like this one.

¡Viva México!

Posted by crispy at 12:34 PM | Comments (8)

December 23, 2006

Condesa (df): a last-minute rip-off

We were pretty delighted with our stay at the Condesa df, until we went to leave and found they had pulled a fast one with the laundry service. They changed our order without approval, charging us an additional MXN $300. Even though that's a drop in the bucket compared to how much we spent there on everything else, that made us mad enough that we may well never go back there again, just on principle.

I know. It's one of the biggest scams in the hospitality industry, just below the telephone charges and right above the minibar prices, so we should not be all that surprised. I admit, I was livid about the fact that it cost MXN $50 (currently USD $4.60) to wash a single pair of socks, but at least I knew about that in advance and begrudginly agreed. We didn't have enough time to wash the clothes ourselves, let along track down a do-it-yourself laundromat, so it was actually the most efficient thing to do in that case, pay rates like MXN $50 for one pair of socks and have it all taken care of for us.

When I dropped the clothes off at the front desk, I verified that the shirt types were properly indicated on the little form that you turn in with the laundry. I complained at that point about paying MXN $50 for a pair of socks, but the kid at the counter went over it alll with me and verified my markings and calculations. The grand total was MXN $930 (USD $85.52 at the time of this writting). I thought that was ridiculously steep for washing the amont of clothes that would fit in a small grocery bag, but even though it might have been a little more expensive to have them cleaned than to replace all of the clothes with brand-new versions, figuring in the time and cost of driving around to buy those new verisions made it a slightly better deal.

When we checked out though, it appeared that we had two charges from the lavandería on our bil. Instead of just one itemized charge from them, there were two. I asked them to clarify, and they had me wait while they pulled out the itemized bill. The order form, where one marks down the number of various things, looked like it did when I signed it and turned it over to the frond desk staff, but with a few additional marks. They were marks in the dry cleaning column, and I knew that none of the stuff I'd put in to have cleaned needed to be dry cleaned. The people doing the laundry didn't seem to agree though, and they decided for us that our shirts all had to be dry cleaned. They didn't bother to verify it with us first though, so we ended up with a bunch of shirts that cost twice as much to be cleaned as they should have.

I contested this with the front desk clerk, and he apologized, but was clearly not going to do anything about it. If we'd not been in a hurry with a lot to do today, I would have insisted on waiting to see a manager and taken it up with them. Again, it wasn't enough to cause us to raise a stink about it, and perhaps that is why that happened. I'm going to try to follow up and chew them out, but there will probably be no compensation for me. All I can do is to warn people to be CAREFUL in using the laundry serice at Condesa df.

We found out the day after we turned in our laundry that there is a laundromat just down the street. Go figure.

Posted by crispy at 12:28 AM | Comments (2)

December 22, 2006

Condesa (df): 2


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Condesa df Entrance, Condesa

Here are some photographs of the Condesa neighborhood.


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Parque España, Condesa

The Condesa df hotel overlooks Parque España somewhat. They have "city view" and "park view" rooms, but really, only the rooms in the corner of the hotel, the most expensive, overlook the park, and only the ones on the third floor have any hope of overlooking the city. All the rooms really have a view of the buildings across the street because it's a short little 4-story affair.


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Condesa df Exterior, Condesa


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Street Signs, Condesa

The street signs at the corner just outside our hotel. This reinforces my persistent claim that once you've been to Guadalajara, there's something about it that will always stay with you.


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Sidewalk Café, Condesa

Lots of Mexico City has a European feel, and this is one reason. There are many cafés and restaurants that have sidewalk seating. And why not? The weather is beautiful.

Some photos of housing in Colonia Condesa.


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Private Residence, Condesa


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Private Residence, Condesa


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Private Residence, Condesa


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Private Residence, Condesa


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Private Residence, Condesa

I just can't help it.

"Hey lady! Nice jugs!"


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Fountain, Condesa

Last night we took in a midnight snack at the Barracuda Diner (Nuevo León 4-A), and it was really interesting. When we walked in, it was like Cleavon Little walking into the saloon in Blazing Saddles, with everyone in the place staring at us. Later I figured out this was because it's a very neighborhood-oriented joint, despite the fact that it's very strangely specialized. It's a diner, set up to be like a 50s diner in the United States, but they serve coctails alongside the shakes, chili dogs and chilaquiles. They have framed advertisements from 50s magazines, but they're 50s Mexican magazines, mind you, so they have slogans like: "¡Es nuevo...Es un Nash!" The waitresses are dressed up in typical waitress uniforms, which look incredibly frumpy down here in Mexico. I guess they look kind of frumpy anywhere, but because they're so out of place here, they look particularly unflattering.

There was a waiter there that looked just like Phil Silvers. No joke. I couldn't keep my eyes off him, because I kept expecting him to do something hilarious.

I also want to take the time to mention Barney's (Montes de Oca 43), a great bar in Condesa. It's got a hip, interesting mix of people as well as decent music. It's small, dark and red inside, and if you order drinks, you have to order some kind of food also. Luckily they have little antojitos like a cheese plate, olives and french fries. The look, for those of you that can identify, is sort of like a darker version of the old Skylark without the rockabilly and the old movie posters. They go for kind of a decadent swank look and feel, and it's obviously popular with folks because we could barely get a table there when we arrived at around midnight. They close at 2 am.

Posted by crispy at 08:49 AM | Comments (1)

December 21, 2006

Poopy Stylists


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Pupy Stylists, Mexico City

Because the letter U is pronounced like the OO in "room," one would pronounce "Pupy" as "POO-py," making the English translation of the name of this beauty salon, "Poopy Stylists."

You can't make up stuff that good.

Posted by crispy at 04:08 PM | Comments (1)

Xochimilco


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Chris and Shawn, Xochimilco

It means "the place of flowers" and is basically the last remaining part of a huge lake that was filled in with dirt to create chinampas, manmade islands used to grow crops without having to use irrigation. Now the series of canals that remain are traversed by boats filled with tourists and locals who have gathered together to enjoy a fiesta, music, food and dancing out on the water. It's a very tranquil oasis for those wanting to escape the chaos of the city, and a rather nice life for the Xochimilcas that make their living as guides, gardeners and artisans.


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Boat Dance, Xochimilco

You can read plenty on Xochimilco that I won't duplicate here. Instead, here are a few items that you might want to know.

Shawn and I were not aware from having seen countless photos and travel shows about Xochimilco that there are lots of houses right next to the canals. You'll also see lots of greenhouses and a few places selling things like ice and drinks.


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Lakeside House, Xochimilco

Our guides were both Xochimilcas, which means nowadays that they live in Xochimilco. The jewelry designer (on the left below) is Mayan, so there was a little joking about how he's not really of the indigenous group of Xochimilcas, even though he's called that.


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Our Guides, Xochimilco

After a delightful and relaxing afternoon at Xochimilco, we were yet again reminded that life in Mexico is often stranger than fiction. After our guide had spent a fair bit of effort trying to arrange a cab for us back to the city (he made several calls that went unanswered, and the one driver in the parking lot was hesitant to take us), we finally crammed ourselves into the little VW bug taxi and took off for downtown. The seats were boxes of springs with thin coverings over them and sitting in the back seat, I had to sit on my leg. The driver asked us if we liked Creedence as he was flipping through the discs in his glove box, and we responded that we did. He then proceded to pull out the disc under that and put it in his CD player. Okay, it was banda and not my favorite of the Mexican musical genres, but it was his cab and as long as we made it back to the hotel in one piece, I didn't care about the music.

When the traffic got a little thick, he switched off the music. Shawn asked if he wanted a different CD, and he explained that he needed to concentrate because of the traffic. At certain points, he was, as Shawn described it, "driving like a grandmother." (Not you, Mimsie. He means a slow-driving grandmother.) When we got into the city, he became noticeably more anxious, timidly changing lanes and at one point being forced off the main road by a truck. Shawn quickly had to pull out his handy map and serve as navigator to the driver through Mexico City, and Shawn's not exactly an expert with the roads of Mexico City. Still, he did a stellar job, as did the driver, and an hour after we left Xochimilco, we pulled up at the Condesa df.

Knowing that he was used to driving only around Xochimilco and had been aprehensive about taking us through the city, Shawn congratulated him on doing a great job in getting us there. The driver laughed and then told us that yes, he was a little nervous, because he only has one eye. He then lifted his sunglasses to show Shawn his blank, dead, bluish-purple eye.

As we were walking later on to a local restaurant and battling the traffic ourselves, Shawn said "I hope our driver made it back okay." For all we know, he could be driving around still in downtown, stuck in some glorieta. At least he has Creedence to keep him company.

Posted by crispy at 09:50 AM | Comments (2)

December 20, 2006

Condesa (df): 1

We arrived at the Condesa df on Monday afternoon, and despite problems we had with the Internet access at first, it's a fantastic hotel in a much more interesting neighborhood.

It's always hard to leave a W hotel and not make negative comparisons at the new place. For example, our room at Condesa df costs more, but is 1/4 the size of our room at the W. The view isn't as cool. At the W, they give you plenty of bath towels (5) and at this place, you get the bare minimum (2). There is no concierge here, just the front desk staff. To get an iron and ironing board, one has to call down to the front desk and ask for one to be brought up (and when it is, it's built for someone 5'2" tall). But it's not entirely fair to make such criticisms because the W is a huge chain with plenty of employees to make sure things go smoothly, and even then, they sometimes don't.

The Condesa df, on the other hand, has but 40 rooms. While the W is plush and pretty nicely put together, the design in Condesa df done by India Mahdavi makes one say, "Wow!" They have a particular print pattern that they use, and a few very specific colors, throughout the whole hotel. The W retains a little business stuffiness, while the Condesa df is more playful, like André Balazs' Standard hotels. You get that feeling from the staff too. On occasion, the staff at the W, while always professional, seems a bit cold. At Condesa df, you get the feeling that the younger staff, while not always 100% professional, is having a good time and they want you to have a good time too.

But let's not waste any more time on making comparisons. There are plenty of funky things to note about the Condesa df.

The keys have a strange fob on them, like a stainless steel bolt. When you're in the room, you have to insert it into a hole in the wall so that it enables the power in the room. When you leave, you have to pull it out to get the keys, which subsequently shuts off the power in your room. Obviously that has pros and cons.


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Guest Services Directory, Condesa df

The guest services directory is put toghether of folded pages of paper with their specific print pattern, but it also has sleeves for various things that are removable from the directory. For example, there's a Codigo-branded map of the local area. It also includes a little sleeve of postcards, which are all glossy color photo cards of local neigborhood scenes like fruit on display at a nearby abarrotes.'


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Postcards, Condesa df


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Signature Pattern, Condesa df

The bathroom is hidden away behind a wooden veneer wall panel, giving it a Bruce Wayne estate feeling.


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Hideaway Bathroom, Condesa df

They have an iPod in each room, loaded with a great mix of music (Tainted Love by Gloria Jones, Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen, Dear Prudence by The Five Steps, Frontin' by Jamie Cullum, These Days by Nico, Walk on By by Dionne Warwick, A Forest by Nouvelle Vague, Elle et moi by Max Berlin, Summertime by Montréal, I Can't Wait Until I See My Lover by Dusty Springfield, Climb Up the Walls 07 Remix by Radiohead, The Truth by Handsome Boy Modeling School, Alzheimers by Joy Zipper). It plays through the plasma television speakers. They also have DVD players in each room and films on DVD that you can borrow from the front desk.

They have a sushi bar (and a regular cocktail bar) on the fourth floor (roof terrace).

They have a closed-circuit channel with a looping independent video art piece (like the Standard).

Their guacamole has pomegranate seeds and comes with homemade plantain, potato and yam chips.

There is a 1950s Chevrolet parked (permanently) in front of the hotel.

It's in Condesa, which is a very hip (in some cases so hip they're too popular), but there's more on that to come.

Posted by crispy at 12:30 AM | Comments (1)

December 19, 2006

Checkpoint Charlie

The Boston Globe reports that "security checkpoints" established after 9/11 in New England , far from the border (say, 100 miles from it), haven't stopped a single terrorist, but they've confiscated more than 3000 lbs. of that evil marijuana. These interior checkpoints stop all drivers on the road, not just those coming from or going to the border, making travel within the United States "feel like being in Eastern Europe under communism."

Posted by crispy at 11:35 AM | Comments (0)

December 18, 2006

Thai Gardens Blows

The W concierge said that as vegetarians, we'd probably like eating at Thai Gardens (Calderón de la Barca 72, in Polanco). We didn't.

We took a taxi from in front of the hotel to go the distance that one could walk in about 15 minutes, and it cost us MXN $100 (a little under USD $10). (The "safe" hotel taxis end up costing a lot; it seems that MXN $100 is the minimum though, so if you're taking one to a place down the street, seriously consider walking.) As for the experience, we ran into the same problem that we run into a lot in trying to get vegetarian meals: three things are indicated on the menu as being vegetarian, one with fish, one with chicken, and the last being something as exciting as carrot broth, while a small notation at the bottom of the first page claims that they can make almost any dish to any dietary specifications.

When complaining about how 2 out of the 3 dishes marked vegetarian had chicken or fish, the waiter explained that they could be made without the chicken or fish. When we asked for items that were not labeled as vegetarian, but that could supposedly be made to our dietary specifications, we were told that, well, they really couldn't make them without meat. The waiter suggested a couple of very basic run-of-the-mill curries, and we got those, egg rolls and a soup that was supposedly made without fish sauce, although it tasted pretty fishy to me.

It took forever for the dishes to arrive. The curries were cooked well (not over- or undercooked), but they were nothing special. For MXN $168 (around USD $15.50), you want something pretty special. We were charged around USD $5.00 for about a cup and a half of jasmine rice. Worst of all, they did what I hate most. When preparing the dishes that were indicated as vegetarian but contained chicken and fish, did they use tofu instead of the chicken or fish? No. Did they increase the amount of vegetables at all? No. We ended up paying over USD $100 for about half of the food that we should have gotten, and apart from one attentive busboy, the service sucked.

So if you're a vegetarian visiting Mexico City and Thai Gardens comes up, be careful. Maybe we were there on an off night. Maybe you're one of those vegetarians that eats chicken, although I'd tend to argue that this categorically means you're not a vegetarian. Maybe you love to get ripped off and think it's a classy joint if you can't get a waiter to refil your drinks. If not though, you might want to skip Thai Gardens.

Posted by crispy at 02:06 AM | Comments (3)

December 17, 2006

W Mexico City


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Reclining Shawn, at W Mexico City

We're spending the holiday season in Mexico City, and most people would have started a series on such a vacation with tales of the city itself. It's a beautiful, crowded, verdant metropolis that is at once dangerous and sexy. Yet I love hotels so much that where we stay is usually at least half the trip, and the W Mexico City is no exception.

This W opened in 2003, and was immediately a success. It's located in Polanco, which is a very upscale neighborhood, in a row of hotels that include Mexico's Hotel Nikko, a Marriott and the Hotel Presidente Inter-Continental. Walk out the front door, walk north, and in less than 10 minutes you'll be on Avenida Presidente Masaryk, which is very similar to Rodeo Drive. The biggest difference being that here, seemingly everyone tells you to not even think about actually doing such an excursion after dark, because surely you'll be mugged or killed.

I'm not at all sure that this is true; Shawn and I walked back after dark from dinner at Aura, the restaurant in the Hotel Habita without any incident. However, it should perhaps be noted that the concern even extends to the use of taxi cabs. There are certainly areas in the city where one would not want to go out at night, but I must say that walking around in Polanco, I have not felt threatened. Who knows? Perhaps that is when one is in the most danger, but if you can never leave your hotel, why bother going anywhere?

The hotel has a lot of nice amenities, as do all W hotels, but some of the particular perks of this one are the indigenous spa treatments, such as Mayan massage and facials, Azteca manicures and pedicures, and a Temezcal purifying ritual. Shawn enjoyed a more traditional, 90-minute shiatzu massage at the spa, followed by a bit in the steam room. There are hammocks located in the shower area, although why that's where they're located, I'm not quite sure. You can't really shower in the hammock, but I did hang out in it while Shawn took a bath in the funky round bathtub that looks like an oversized teacup.


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Bathtub/Shower with Hammock, at W Mexico City

I really like the bars and restaurant (Solea) here as well. I was able to get a Manhattan made with Angostura bitters, an ingredient that is necessary to make them properly, yet I have been unable to find anywhere in Mexico. The chef at the restaurant, Chef Osuna, is creative and skilled; Shawn and I both have been delighted with everything we've eaten there. Among my favorites are the salads and this dessert they have: a banana tart served with chocolate-port ice cream. The brunch that they have on Sundays until 5 pm is also amazing, because they have a huge buffet of simple, but high-quality ingredients that you can put together to make a salad, or eat by themselves. They have all kinds of nuts, fresh herbs, greens, oils, vinagars, steamed vegetables, cheeses, croutons, meats and dressings, all isolated in their own dishes (the array of these ingredients stretches along an enormous table) so you can pick and choose as you wish. It's like the biggest, most luxurious salad bar I've ever seen.

We have been disappointed in a few things though, and despite the fact that we've had an outstanding experience here, I feel I should mention them.

While the concierge staff is very friendly and they try very hard to come through for you, it seems they're just not quite up to the level of your average W concierge staff. We asked for suggestions for a restaurant, not strictly vegetarian, but a place where we could get some decent food that was vegetarian. I had read online of Tandoor, an Indian restaurant with considerable vegetarian offerings, that has been around for about 20 years. The concierge had not heard of it. Granted, it's Mexico City, and one wouldn't expect anyone to know of all the restaurants in town, but given that it's one of perhaps four or five Indian restaurants in the city, you'd think he'd have heard of it. He offered to call them, but I had not brought their phone number down to the lobby with me, so we decided we'd go with his suggestion, a Thai restaurant, Thai Gardens (Calderón de la Barca 72), to which they'd sent many a vegetarian that returned with wide smiles. He said he'd try to find out about Tandoor while we were away so that we could eat there at a subsequent meal.

To limit this entry to detail about the W only, let me just say here that the Thai Gardens experience SUCKED. You can read about it in a separate entry.

We returned and told the concierge about it, and he apologized profusely. Supposedly, a lot of other vegetarians had been there and loved the experience. Maybe we're just picky, but when you pay that much for a meal, I think you're justified in being a bit picky. I was so unsatisfied with the Thai Gardens experience that I wanted to erase it from my mind with a delightful experience at Tandoor, the Indian restaurant that I'd looked up earlier. We asked him if he'd had any luck in getting information about it, and he had not. I suspect that he didn't have the time to look into it, but even so, that kind of sucked. I went upstairs to our room and used my Internet connection to look up their phone number, which I found in under three minutes.


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Shawn at Handy Workdesk, at W Mexico City

When I brought it down to him, he called and made us a reservation. That place turned out to be great, and I'll probably talk more about it in a later entry.

I asked about a very popular restaurant that I'd read about too, which is only about 15 minutes walk from the hotel. He knew of this one right away, but feared that they may not have vegetarian food. I'd read a couple of reviews that talked about an assorted tamale appetizer, and it had about 3 out of four vegetarian tamales. I asked if the concierge desk kept menus on file for local restaurants and he said they did, but of course, their copy for that restaurant was missing. They called the restaurant, and someone at the restaurant said they'd email one over. Fine. We were not going that night, so the concierge's suggestion that he give it to us the next morning sounded fine.

It would have been fine, except for the fact that it wasn't slipped under our door in the morning, nor was it waiting for us when we returned from brunch after noon. We stopped by the concierge desk and the woman that had phoned to the restaurant the night before was dismayed that we'd not received it, but explained that she had only come on duty in the afternoon. Apparently the person working the concierge desk before her had not received it. Yeah, apparently not.

At other W hotels, there would have been follow-up on the issue until it was resolved. Instead of getting excuses as to why it hadn't happened, the concierge would have been on the horn getting a copy sent over within five minutes, and at five minutes and one second, they'd have been back on the phone finding out why it hadn't arrived. Heck, the concierge at the W Montréal would have probably arranged to have samples of the food delivered for free so we could sample it since we'd had to suffer the inconvenience of waiting. The W Mexico City concierge staff seems neither that motivated nor that in-command of the situation. That's too bad because in a city as big as Mexico City, it would really help to have someone you could turn to that was both knowledgeable and capable at cutting through all the extra stuff that isn't what you're looking for.

It doesn't help that they're stretched thin. The friendly (and cute!) young man that recommended Thai Gardens (and then apologized profusely when we hated it), had to keep running back and forth between the front desk and the concierge desk when people arrived to check in and reception didn't have enough people to deal with them in a timely manner. I want to say that I felt that he tried really hard (although I didn't feel that as much effort was put forward by the other concierge desk staff), but he just didn't have the resources to come through for us. And you see, that's what staying at a W is all about. You shouldn't be in want for anything at all, ever.

Another thing that was a little disappointing was the fact that the hotel is already starting to show some wear. The leather lounges in the lobby could stand a good polishing, and some of the furniture has bent legs and scuffed surfaces. Many of the chairs in the dining room are a little loose in the joints. It should be noted that these issues are all in the public areas; our room was in very good condition.

Last but not least, when I asked the bellhop that brought up our bags if the water from the faucets was filtered, he told me, "We recommend that you do not drink the water from the faucets." Okay, that's fine. Many hotels in Mexico have that same policy. But if they do, they provide you with free bottled water. The bottles of Voss water in the room to which they direct you for drinking water have MXN $70 pricetags on them (for 800 ml). I am not entirely sure that we'll be charged for those, but I'll find out tomorrow upon check-out.

Our next stop will be the Condesa DF, and to be honest, I don't expect an experience that is up to the same level as that of the W, but we'll see!

Posted by crispy at 07:36 PM | Comments (7)

December 14, 2006

Take My Cash, Please

It's amazing how hard it is to get people to take your money in Mexico.

Many places charge a surcharge (I've paid up to 10%) for using a credit card. I'm sure they officially call it a "discount for using cash," but the bottom line is that you have to pay more if you pay with plastic.

In some cases, one cannot pay by check because there's no place to send a check. With these types of businesses, such as the electric company, you go to designated places that receive payments for them, such as satellite offices in malls, banks, or even the convenience store chain, OXXO. Since there is an OXXO on nearly every corner down here, you'd think that would be handy, but in trying to pay our electric bill the other day, I found that it's not that easy.

The problem started when we didn't receive our electric bill. The truth is that it had fallen down behind someone else's mailbox, but until one of our lovely neighbors brought it to our door, I didn't think we had received it. Not receiving one's electric bill, we are told, happens often. When that happens, one has to go to the CFE offices with a previous bill so they can look up the amount due. The offices are only open until 3 pm, but luckily, they have CFEmáticos, things that are kind of like ATMs for looking up your account and paying bills.

Our regular taxi driver drove us over to the CFE office, and we arrived at around 2:30. When we walked in, I noted that there were several employees in the office, but none of them were doing anything. They were sitting around chatting and one teller was doing her nails. A manager walked up to us and told us that if we were there to pay a bill, that could be accomplished either at a cashier window, or at the CFEmático. We told him that we didn't have our bill, and he said that we could look up our account with the CFEmático. We walked over to the machines where some other people were milling around, and waited behind them, because it seemed they were waiting to use the machines. After a couple of minutes, we scooted around these people and looked at the first of the two machines and saw that it said it was out of service. We moved over to the other machine and it said it was re-initializing. The office was closing in about 10 minutes, but we were told that one could make payments with the CFEmáticos 24-hours-a-day. But of course, that's only when they're operational.

We then went over to the cashier that had been doing her nails and explained that we wanted to pay but didn't have a bill, and she told us that if we had a previous bill, she could use it to look up the account and tell us what we owe. However, 'the system' was down throughout the Guadalajara metro area at that time, and they didn't know when it would be up and running again. Until the system was back online, we would not be able to pay the bill. Why the manager that initially talked to us didn't explain this, I don't know. That kind of thing happens a lot in Mexico, so you get used to it.

They were locking up the office around then, so we left. The next day or so, the aforementioned neighbor found our bill and brought it to us, so I went out to pay it at our local OXXO. Upon trying to pay, the cashier ran the bill over the scanner and there was no response from the system. He told me that I would not be able to pay until the following day, and explained something that I didn't completely understand.

I've also had problems at Home Depot here, where they won't accept payments with my Edward Jones Visa, because it indicates that it's a debit card on the front. In the United States, I have run into this problem with places that use a credit card for a deposit, but never with payment for a set amount at a retail store. Yet in Mexico, the processor that they use for Visa credit cards will not do processing for Visa debit cards. Period. To their credit (no pun intended), when I wrote to Home Depot customer service for Mexico to complain, they wrote back apologizing and explaining the situation, whereas the CC I sent to Home Depot customer service in the United States got only form letter response telling me about how to apply for a Home Depot branded Visa.

Posted by crispy at 06:02 AM | Comments (3)

December 10, 2006

Chivas of Guadalajara Win National Championship

Las Chivas, our local football team, has just won the national championship, beating Los Diablos Rojos of Toluca in the second and last game 2-1. The first game was a tie, at 1-1.

There is an incredible racket throughout our apartment building, where people are screaming and cheering, and in the streets of our normally quiet residential neighborhood, with all the cars passing by honking their horns.

Posted by crispy at 12:44 PM | Comments (2)

December 02, 2006

Landing the Plane

I'm at a party last night, and a strikingly handsome and charming Sergio is telling me about how he used to go into work a little early each day to get in a little research on the bar's diverse tequila offerings. The boss was not the type that would see this as human capital improvement that would benefit his clientele, so Sergio had to be careful not to be obviously boozed up when the boss arrived.

Toward this end, he would eat a little bread (pancito) after the drinks in an effort to sober himself up. He explained that in Spanish, this is referred to as 'bajar el avión,' or 'to land the plane.'

In the immortal words of Lisa Simpson, "Can't talk. Coming down."

Posted by crispy at 06:39 PM | Comments (1)