The Last Days in Mexico City: Polanco, Museo Soumaya, La Feria Amusement Park, Museo del Chopo, and Mercado Merced
On Tuesday, J and I went on an epic all day adventure from Reforma through the “ritzy” neighborhood of Polanco to find the Museo Soumaya. Along the way, we passed fortified houses, lots of colorful businesses, and fountains in various states of squirting.
Mobile snack dispenser.
Hija.
The only candy I’ve seen that includes a packet of hot sauce: SKWINKLES.
Not sure I trust this overpass.
Driveway.
W.
No parking on this sliver of sidewalk.
I wish I understood Spanish better.
Blocky building.
Hand painted window repair truck.
Low rise bench.
Polanco pathway.
Tree trimmer acrobats.
Fountain.
The golden A frame roof of Iglesia de San Ignacio de Loyola.
Tile detail.
Interior colored by stained glass.
The weird hotel across the street. Basically someone could walk up the sloping side all the way to the top.
Truck accepting all sorts of scrap.
Practical joke?
Sink hole.
Nature finds a way.
Um…
The fence by GM’s headquarters.
A wheat flour factory.
Track switch signal.
Museo Soumaya is a free, private museum that opened in 2011. It’s owned by the Carlos Slim Foundation, basically the shell for the wealthiest man in Latin America. The new building was designed by Mexican architect Fernando Romero, who by coincidence I’m sure, is married to Carlos’s daughter.
The museum holds works by many of the best known European artists from the 15th to the 20th century, as well as a metric shit-ton of Rodin and Dali sculptures. The Rodins are casts, but the Dalis are the surreal deal.
Museo Soumaya.
J at the entrance.
The ground floor.
The sculpture garden on the top floor. Mostly Rodins, though this view is of a collection on Dali.
Delicious food court flautas at a nearby mall.
After lunch in a nearby mall, we walked eastward through some run down streets to the nearest Metro station. The southward train brought us near Chapultepec Park, and we found an inefficient walkway across an under-construction highway.
Our destination was La Feria Chapultepec Mágico, an amusement park that opened in 1964. For most of its life, it was operated by the Mexican government.
On a weekday, the park was nearly empty. No lines, no waiting. We purchased the basic passes for 90 pesos. These tickets excluded the majority of the bigger, funner rides. But those could be added for around 20-30 pesos each at ticket counters inside the park. In hindsight, we should have bought the 150 peso ultimate pass.
J and I rode go-karts with the track to ourselves, a g-forceful hip smashing ride called El Ratón Loco, high-flying swings, bumper cars, and a pee-smelling Jules Verne ride.
My other couldn’t leave without riding the elephant in the room: the Montaña Rusa. I sat in the shade and tried to follow her as the rattled along the undulating track.
Come on ride the wheat train.
Blue wall.
Crossing the highway.
Our walkway.
A defunct pedestrian bridge.
Wooden roller coaster.
Spiral.
El Raton Loco, the crazy mouse of a ride that slammed me to the sides of the spinning teacup that hurled on the tracks.
Flume splash zone.
Another view of old woody.
Walkway.
Part of Lago Mayor de Chapultepec. Home of koi and some crazy looking fowl.
Backyard altar.
Colorful scene.
Olympic logo run amok.
Delicious tacos al pastor with limes and various salsas in the background.
Trees on a stroll.
On Wednesday we took the Metro to find Museo del Chopo. This building was originally made for a World’s Fair in Germany at the turn of last century, and was brought to Mexico soon after. It was reassembled.
The most renovation converted it into a university gallery and study space. While the exterior was unchanged, the massive interior was filled with a multi-floor internal structure in a cool combination of old an new.
We left the museum and walked around the area before taking one last stroll through Mercado Merced to see if we had missed anything on our prior trip.
Looking up.
A modern addition.
Empty lounge.
Nik the Dick and J DAWG JAMMY FRESH.
Monumento A la Revolución.
I see you you, duct.
Alley in a small Chinatown.
Soda.
Cat and colorful walls.
This will block all cars.
Gas.
Street near Mercado Merced.
Brushed aluminum torta kiosk.
Cool hand painted logos.
Loading zone.
Village size bags of chips.
Herbs.
Empty bee hives.
Dead on the job.
J entering the kitchenware wonderland.
Electronics near the subway entrance.
Due to the rougher neighborhood and hot weather on Wednesday, I was not in a photographic mood. I guess after two weeks in the place, once exotic scenery starts to feel normal.
That night, J and I walked to Zona Rosa and sat outside at a cerveseria, enjoyed an obscure beer, michelada, and multiple tacos of shrimp and pastor. Our time in Mexico City was winding to and end, and we soaked in the noisy street like the last few pages of a good book.