I had heard from others how massive the city is, but I didn’t really understand until I saw it from the plane, splayed out like an endless tapestry. The cab ride to our hotel felt like we were driving through Queens, but for days.
We are staying in a boutique hotel in La Condesa.
It was marked by art deco flourishes.
The city seemed to be large enough to accommodate anything I wanted to find.
I woke up the next morning and ran through a smaller park on my way to a bigger park.
The city is sinking and has suffered earthquakes. Even the fanciest blocks feel old and a bit decrepit. Nothing is flat or even.
But my first impression is that amid the chaos of the endless streets and people, the city has a spark that is missing in New York.
The United States is suffocated with power and money.
Whereas Mexico City, just as it has done for thousands of years, is busy reinventing life.
