Visiting the heart of Mexico City

“You can go down the Metro stop in Hidalgo,” our B&B host Fernando told us when he learned that we wanted to visit Zócalo, the historical center of Mexico City. There was a stop in Zócalo itself, but he added that we will be seeing more interesting sights if we walked from Hidalgo.

So two friends, Marjorie and Mayann, my husband Alex and I went out of the subway into bright noonday sun on the busy Avenida de Hidalgo. We reached the Alameda Central Park, a huge garden constructed at around the 16th century. The authorities, as early as the colonial period, understood that the population needed a place away from the bustle of city life, a cool oasis where they could do their afternoon paseos. This 400-year-old garden was full of shady elm trees, well-manicured hedges, fountains, gazebos, and the eye-catching Hemicycle of Juárez, a white semi-circular colonnaded tribute to Benito Juárez (five-time Mexican president and reformer) and inaugurated in 1910 during the centennial celebration of the Mexican independence.

Across the avenue was an attractive gray granite building, and we learned that it was the Palacio de Minería, built in 1793. A statue of the Spanish monarch Carlos IV mounted on his steed, El Caballito, stood in front of the building on a wide, rectangular plaza. This was the Plaza de Manuel Tólsa, named after the venerated architect who did the sculpture. The palacio itself was historical, as it started out housing engineering and metallurgical schools, at a time when “New Spain’s” (Mexico) wealth rested on iron and precious metal mining.

Further on we beheld a beautiful, gold-domed building, with its Neoclassical and Art Nouveau façade. It was the Palacio de las Bellas Artes, built in 1910. We vowed to come back and look at it more closely.

We then reached a palatial and historical building, the Quinta Casa de Correos (Fifth Postal Building), so-called because the postal building moved its location four times until this final destination. The building was initially constructed in 1761 as a Franciscan hospital, but was later renovated during the term of President Porfirio Diaz.

As we stood at the vestibule, we gazed with awe at the majestic marble stairs, winding up like two enormous wings; the gleaming walls of bronze and marble (from Florence, it was said); the porticoes, and the small windows reminiscent of the Doge’s Palace in Venice. There were four floors, and it took five years of renovation to reach its present splendor. There was a glass dome that allowed bright sunlight through its crystal panes. Again, we put this under our “must-come-back-and-explore” file.

And who could resist the open air, second-hand bookshops? The alley of endless books between two tall buildings seemed to wind itself all the way to the next block. We browsed through books by Latin American authors, Spanish translations of the latest crime thrillers, and even a hefty Mafalda (beloved comic book character) volume.

Back on the main street, we found huge, more than life-sized bronze statues of Mexican chieftains like Izcoatl, Nezahualcoyotl, Totoquihuatzin, who ruled this area before the Spanish times. 

We also saw a shop announcing, in large letters “Petacas!” selling wallets and leather goods (pitakas, anyone?), a perfumery shop for custom-made scents, and a street named “Simon Bolivar.”

A Cuban friend that morning texted, saying that we should explore Cafe de Tacuba, an institution in the historic area; indeed, the décor in this coffee and tea shop, built in 1812, took our breaths away. We were seated on brown wooden chairs each with their distinctive logo of a white silhouette of a suited man with a bowler hat.

There were colorful stained glass panels all around us, alcoves with paintings of flowers on their insides, while azulejos tiles covered the lower part of the walls. Large antique paintings dominated, and one was that of the Virgin, which was said to have protected the building from a fire in the 18th century. Ghost stories about the café abound, too, we later learned. We had cafe con leche, and their traditional fruits cooked in syrup (called “almíbar”, sounding like our own “arnibal”).

Off we went again, passing by the Dulcería de Celaya, an antique candy shop that was founded in 1874, with its rich array of sweet things. Trays upon silver trays of all sorts of cookies, muffins, tortes, even sugared fruit, stopped me in my tracks. It was enough to just stand there and gawk.

Finally we reached the Zócalo, also known as the Plaza de la Constitucíon, the heart of the city. Literally, zócalo means “plinth,” which was the only thing built in the original plan to have a monument marking the country’s independence.

The huge plaza measured 240 meters each side and was the center of life in the city. Military parades, swearing-in ceremonies, Independence Day activities, religious processions, and even anti-government rallies were held in this square.

In Pre-Hispanic times, the Templo Mayor of the Aztecs stood here, the heart of the city called Tenochtitlan. Spanish conquerors destroyed the place, and a large cathedral was constructed over it in the north side. This was the present-day Metropolitan Cathedral of the Assumption of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary to Heaven, of Mexico City.

Two huge pyramids for the Aztec gods, five large temples, and many other indigenous artifacts were discovered under the cathedral.

The cathedral was in the midst of a cleaning-up when we visited, but the two altars within, the Altar of Forgiveness seen as soon as we entered, and the main Altar of the Kings, resplendent with their gold-leaf adornments, filled us with awe. There were sixteen chapels in the cathedral, each dedicated to a saint. We sat down in one of the pews to rest our weary feet, and offered prayers for family and friends.

Outside, we noted the big Mexican flag at the center of the plaza, and the National Palace was seen at the east side. This consisted of a long row of buildings with uniform windows, brooding under the afternoon sun. A walk through Calle Moneda found us in a small church where we attended a First Friday Mass. Later we got the train home, the Metro jam-packed, but cool and clean. — BM, GMA News