Mexico City I get around, but it’s mainly for work. People will ask about this or that in countries where I travel, and I’m woefully clueless often. I’d been to India a dozen times before I happen to be there on a Sunday and was convinced to take the train to see the Taj Mahal. I had been to Nairobi often before I finally caught a cab at dawn to see the amazing national park complete with lions, zebra and giraffes only minutes outside of the city before catching a plane home. Turn me loose in Manchester’s People’s History Museum, and I want one in my town. I’m not complaining, just saying, when I’m working, I’m working, but even in the best of times, I’m not a classic, check-the-main-attractions-off-my-list, tourist. Show me a botanical garden, and I’m there. Let me walk or run through the park, I’m in heaven. Park me on a street where people are moving, and I can spend several pleasant hours embedded in the lives of strangers. Let me try something from the local bakery or just sit and read in a coffee shop, occasionally getting to talk to people or in many countries, letting them guess my country and practice speaking English, and I’m happy to be there. In short, I’m probably not the guy who want to ask for recommendations about what you might want to see when you travel.
Ok, you’ve been warned. Nonetheless, if you get to visit Mexico City, catch a meal at Café la Habana in the Juarez district right on the edge of the Centro Histórico.
I can’t remember the first time I was there. I don’t think it was in 1974, my first time in the District Federal, although I’ll never forget going to Coyoacan on a bus with my father to see the Diego Rivera Museum and where Leon Trotsky was assassinated. Not far away is the Frieda Kahlo Museum as well. Then you could walk in every room, go right up to the easel, put your finger in the bullet holes, and stroll around the bougainvillea in the patio. Then, you walked right in. Now, there are lines and ropes around everything.
Whenever I first went to the Café la Habana, it would have been decades ago, but virtually nothing has changed. The same giant sepia photographs of old Havana are perched near the 30-foot ceilings, as they have always been, since the café opened in 1951. Having been to Cuba, it’s a remnant of a city that no longer quite exists. Fidel Castro and Che Guevera would come to the Café la Habana often when they were in exile in Mexico City planning for their return. More recently, Gabriel García Márquez, the great Nobel Prize winning novelist was a frequent visitor, but that’s more speculation, than the confirmation that comes with Fidel and Che. He lived in the city for years, so I don’t know how it would have been possible that he didn’t come here, whether he was a regular or not.
My first time there was for lunch. It was packed with white shirt and tie businessmen, and the waiters were all men as well. The food was classic, plentiful, and cheap. Some years ago, ACORN International had a staff meeting in Mexico City. My daughter was an organizer then. The father of a friend of hers was in town, so walked from where we were meeting to the Café la Habana for a cup of coffee. It turned out to be his birthday. He ordered the “traditional,” and we couldn’t turn him down. I’m not much of a drinker, but we went through several rounds of tequila shots that followed sips of tomato and lime juice, and it was an unforgettable blast.
We went again with my family before Christmas, now years later. The five of us kept it to one round and then enjoyed an early dinner. We had a great and plentiful meal. Near the doorway, as we left, I took a picture on mi companera under an old photograph of Fidel and Che to post on the family chat.
I love this place! You might, too?
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