So
it really was becoming true that I am nearing the end of this challenge. Only
two cities left to go. Yikes.
After
an amazing couple of weeks in the US (with a renewed playlist featuring a lot
of Elvis, Dolly Parton and other country music) I was bound for Mexico. I had
only ever been to the country for the day before so I was excited to be seeing
more of it. That sounds rather decadent saying I had only been for the day but
it’s not as uncommon as it sounds. I was once staying in San Diego and decided
to hop south of the border for the day to visit nearby Tijuana. A great trip
with the best Mexican food I had ever tasted and possibly the busiest border
crossing back into the US that I have ever seen. This time immigration was not as
crowded and I exited the airport to the tropical heat of Cancun (and a
Margaritaville cocktail stand in the car park.)
Resisting
the temptation for an early Margarita I made my way to the hotel and awaited
Laura’s arrival from London. The hotel was set right upon the beach and our
balcony looked right out over the ocean. It was a perfect view. This is perhaps
why it was dubbed a “romantic” room which would regretfully be wasted (in that sense) on
two friends sharing.
Cancun
was a perfect place to relax. The beach is stunning and each morning (or
sometimes evening) I would run for 40 minutes barefoot along the shore. It
certainly beat the treadmills of the past few weeks. We enjoyed day trips to the
amazing Chichen Itza and Tulum and of course took advantage of the poolside bar
by the pool. We then left the beach and spent a couple of nights in the jungle
which was splendid. Complete silence and time just to completely relax (and get
bitten to shit by the local mosquitoes.)
So
then it was on to Mexico City. Flying in was spectacular. The city did indeed
look absolutely massive and thus I was expecting it to live up to the “crazy
busy” reputation it seems to hold. The airport was calm and worked as you would
expect. Immigration the same. Our airport transfer was ready and waiting for us
as anticipated. Were we in the right place? I will admit the traffic on the way
to our hotel was busy but no worse than that I have experienced in London. I
think Mexico City gets a bad rep as a busy and dangerous city and here is where
I will start to tell you how different my experience of this wonderful city
was.
We
were staying in La Rosa area which is just off the main avenue Reforma. Great architecture
along the avenue and I swear I didn’t know that this was the gay area of town
when I booked my hotel. There were some lively bars and trendy shops on our
street (as any self-respecting gay area would) and it now meant that when I returned
to treadmill training in the gym I could play my Kylie playlist loud and proud
on the music system. Not that I wouldn’t normally be proud of this playlist,
merely just that it would almost be expected in this part of town.
Over
the coming days we enjoyed great museums (the anthropology museum is one of the
best I have been to), excellent food (the best seared tuna I have ever had), a
stunning old town and main square, an afternoon in the house of the incredibly
talented Frida Khalo as well as history in the form of more pyramids in the
city of Teotihuacan on the outskirts of the city. We enjoyed a meal with a
local family and found the hospitality of the Mexican people beyond friendly.
We felt safe in the city and became experts at the metro system. This city
should be on everyone’s “to do” list and I promise you won’t regret it.
But
onto the running piece. What race was I going to do? There wasn’t an official
race happening when I was in the city and whilst my Kylie gym sessions were a
fun way to start the day I don’t think it could count as an Olympic run do you?
So I had researched for local running clubs again and come across the Hash
House Harriers. I had heard of the club way back when I was a child
living in Greece but I had never run with them before. Their website describes
themselves as a “drinking club with a running problem” which had me sold. I was
in. I dropped them and email and shortly afterwards Mario (the leader of the
Mexico City group) responded (from his email address which was Mario the Frog) saying
he would love to host me and we could do a bespoke run on the Sunday I was in
town. He asked for details of what I wanted to do so that he could put it up on
their website both in English and Spanish. Lovely guy.
It
was going to be the Day of the Dead celebrations that weekend I was in Mexico
City so I had said that if we could run somewhere to take in the atmosphere
that would be great. True to his word he put the description of what I wanted
to do on his site and confirmed that we would be doing a 10km run together that
day. What I wasn’t sure of was what he meant by we. Was that me and him or
would others be involved as well? Only time would tell.
So
as the Sunday drew nearer I emailed Mario to check we were still on and where
we should meet. He gave me the address of the club’s headquarters and said that I should
be there at 11:30. I misread this as 10:30 so I arrived 1 hour early. Bet early
than late I suppose. He also said to just bring myself as well as a gift in the
form of alcohol. I bought a bottle of wine and had it in my rucksack wondering
whether I was going to have to run with it for the entire 10km or whether he
would take it off my hands before we left. Fortunately it turned out to be the
latter otherwise that would have been a heavy and clinking load to carry. Mario
let me into the huge house and took me up to a really splendid roof garden. The
sun was shining and so we sat down to enjoy a nice coffee. A couple of things I
noticed about his décor was that there were frog ornaments everywhere (the
email address made sense now) and that there were two small skeletons hanging
in the center of the garden which he said represented his Mum and Dad who were
no longer with us. As I would find out over the next 24 hours the Mexicans
really do have a different way to celebrate the dead and to remember them by. I
thought this was a nice gesture.
Mario
was 65 and as well as running the Hash House Harriers he had once been the head
of security for the US embassy in Mexico City. The walls inside the house were
covered with photos and letters from US presidents and other members of
Government thanking him for his hospitality during their visits to his city.
Since retiring he then also rented out his spare rooms in the house to women
who were in need of short term accommodation and were looking for a safe place
on a budget. Topping off his interesting career his numerous stories similar to the “I was once in a relationship with the Finnish
ambassador” one he was indeed quite a character.
As
he prepared things for our run later that day one of the women who lived in the
house (Lupita) sat with me to talk about her studies and her passion for art.
Until I arrived she had been painting in the roof garden and the result (to
date) was something I would have had happily on my walls at home. A talented
girl. Unfortunately she wouldn’t be joining us on the run as she had dropped a
glass on her foot a few days before thus she wasn’t able to put weight on her
foot but she said she would join us in town later on for some food.
So
far then there was just Mario and I running. Would there be others? Shortly
before 11:30 a group of three arrived. Our group was growing! The group was a
father (Fidel) and his son and daughter who were 20 and 18 respectively. They
were all very friendly and we managed to communicate with my broken Spanish and
their basic knowledge of English. Sign language does always come in handy as we
all know. Then bang on 11:30 came another two people. Ricco and Cay. Our group
was now complete.
We
all sat in the garden and Mario formally introduced himself and described the
route we would be taking. We would take the metro to the north of the city
where we would walk for about 20 minutes to a park. Then we would jog up to a
cemetery where we could see people celebrating Day of the Dead before jogging
back down the hill into the city to then catch the metro to the city center to
meet Lupita (as well as her mother and younger sister) for some late lunch. Sounded
awesome to me. He then asked us to introduce ourselves. The introductions were
as you would expect (I’m Michael and I’m from London) but as I said it both
Ricco and Cay said in unison “So you’re just Michael.” This puzzled me and had
me thinking that perhaps I should have been more formal and said Michael Long?
Oh well, the moment had now passed. However; then it was their turn to
introduce themselves. Here is what they said:
I’m
Ricco “two inches in Ladyboy” and I’m Cay “Dr yoga sew UR sak” and we usually run
with the Baghdad Hash House Harriers. Two questions arose from me. Firstly; there
was a running club in Baghdad and secondly what did those nicknames mean?
And
so they told me.
They
were working in the army and had both been based in Iraq for the last three
years where they had met at the running club and since got married. They had
transferred to Mexico City only that week so they were newbies to the city. The
names apparently are given to you once you are a fully-fledged member of any
Hash House Harriers. The naming ceremony can vary but in Iraq it transpired
that they sat you on a block of ice blind folded and asked you personal
questions until they had enough information to give you a “Hash name.” Until
that time you were known as “just” and your name hence why I was “just Michael”
to them. Made sense to me but given what you had to go through to get your hash
name I was quite happy to stick with just for now. It worked for Jack in Will
& Grace so it was good enough for me.
So
off we set. Mario knew the city well and during our first walk he pointed out
some interesting buildings and a monument that was on a site where a light
aircraft crashed onto a busy market and killed various people. We then started
jogging. It was very light going but that was fine. It was nice for us to stay
as a group. As we reached a pedestrian flyover he told us we could run quickly
up it. I took his word and did so and about half way up felt light headed. This
was the first (and admittedly only) time that I felt I was at altitude.
We
then arrived at the graveyard. It was busy. Not busy with quiet mourners but
busy with food and flower sellers and hundreds of people who had come to
celebrate the dead. As we jogged through the cemetery there were families sat
having picnics at their family graves. They had balloons, drinks, music and
were enjoying each other’s company as they sat around presumably remembering
those they had lost. It was poignant but lovely to see people remembering
others in such a fond way. Ordinarily cemeteries are a place for peaceful reflection
but not today or in Mexico it seemed.
We passed many children’s graves which
had parents gathered around hosting what would have looked like a birthday
party had it not been for the obvious setting. We saw a grave to mark the
forty thousand people who were killed in the earthquake of 1985. Mario (who
also lost his home in the earthquake) said that the Government only acknowledge
that four thousand people perished in the quake for reasons I am not sure why. I
am not sure why releasing the actual number of people killed would weaken
Mexico’s image Worldwide; however since researching the quake since my trip it
does seem the lower number is what is reported.
We
were then serenaded by an elderly gentleman with some local mariachi music just
before making our way out of the cemetery. It was an experience like no other
and was the beginning of how I would change looking at death.
We
then continued our gentle jog down the hills through some very exclusive areas
of the city. The houses were enormous with plenty of expensive cars parked out
the front. This part of town could easily be confused with Beverly Hills if I
were to show you just a picture of it. Mario (of course) had attended
diplomatic parties in many of the houses and said that each house would have a
huge security team looking after them. This was the first time since being in
the city I had even a hint that there was any more danger than in any other Global
capital but again contrary to popular belief I didn’t feel any danger myself.
Running
through these forests was really peaceful and totally different to what I had
expected of my Mexico City run. Mario, Fidel and I were up the front of the
group and despite Cay and Ricco having aired worries of the group not being
fast enough at the beginning of the jog they had fallen behind and were at the
tail with Fidel’s children. Ironic that those that were out for a quick sprint
and the youngest of the group were at the back or as Mario put it “Fidel was a
front running bastard.” All in good jest you understand.
So
as we neared the old part of the city we reached the crowds who by now were all
donning the traditional face paints of the Day of the Dead celebrations. It was
a fantastic atmosphere and we met Lupita and her family in a local restaurant
where Mario had told me that as long as you order a drink then the food was
free. I figured this sentence was being lost in translation but true to his
word again when the bill came I indeed was only paying for a couple of beers
and the three courses I had been brought were indeed free. No wonder this was
his favourite place to replenish the burned calories post Sunday runs. Mario washed down his dinner with straight tequila which he said his doctor had told him would be good for his cholesterol levels. Not sure if that's true or whether Mario just has the same doctor as Patsy from Ab Fab?
From
talking to Ricco and Cay this was very different to the normal Hash House
Harrier run in that it was a lot slower than usual and there was far less
drinking than they were used to but none the less I still enjoyed it and I hope
it stays that way whilst Mario runs the group.
So
there was no timing and no official distance in this jog across the city but it
was indeed a fun one and it holds a dear place in my heart. After I left the
group I experienced the nighttime version of Day of the Dead in an equally and
lively cemetery in the south of the city for which I am unable to describe how
it felt. All I can say is that it has altered the way I would like to celebrate
my parents’ lives which I will do on the 1st November every year
from now on.
Thanks
Mexico City for offering me more than just a run. One day I will return I
promise.
P.S. For those interested in the meaning of
Ricco and Cay’s Hash names here you go. “Two inches in Ladyboy” is apparently
when Ricco had to defend a ladyboy with a two inch long knife against a drunk.
I have a feeling the truth would reveal a different story don’t you? And “Dr
yoga sew UR sak” is because Cay is a doctor who likes yoga who once conducted
an operation on a man’s leg whose sack was so large it became and obstruction and the
only way for her to complete the operation was to sew his sack against his own
leg. Nice. So there you have it. I still think I will stick with Just Michael.
Flowers in the graveyard:
My Day of the Dead make up (post run I should say!)
Serenaded in the graveyard:
Running in the park:
Me and a slightly different flag photo to usual at the end!
