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Shopping in the Historic District and the Zona Rosa

To do a little shopping there are literally scores of stores, shops and craft stands from which to make your purchases in and near the Zocalo and in the Zona Rosa. Making purchases in the Historic District is far cheaper than the often sky-high prices usually found in the Zona Rosa, which caters to the Upper Crust, International and Business travelers. Stands selling postcards, maps, magazines, books, newspapers, T - shirts and a cornucopia of crafts are open along the edges of the Zocalo from 9am until the late afternoon.

Beyond the Zocalo

Further into the Zocalo, around on the side of the cathedral, there are dancers performing Aztec ritual dances to traditional music from late mornings to early afternoons. Frequently they’ll stop and pass collection baskets through the crowd for donations. The multi-colored, feathered costumes of the tanned, muscular dancers (including some women and children) make great photos. You shouldn’t miss this.

You can also pick up pretty decent city and Mexico maps from vendors in the Zocalo. Guia Roji publishes very good, informative ones. Most will be in Spanish (well this is MEXICO, remember ?). There’s no shortage of shops or goods of any type elsewhere in the area either as virtually every street in the Historic District consists of corner to corner stores and shops.

For Ladies, For Men

For Ladies clothes, shoes and accessories walk along Cinco de Febrero (the street that borders the Zocalo) with the front of the Cathedral behind you. Go about three blocks and the boutiques will begin. They go on for many blocks so you won’t get bored.

For Mens clothes and accoutrements, Avenida Lazaro Cardenas is Tailor’s Row, starting about one block from the Palacio de Las Bellas Artes (with the front of the Bellas Artes building behind you) and continuing for an additional five blocks or so. You’ll pass right by the Torre Latinoamerica, so if it’s a clear day you might want to pop up to the observation deck or caf

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The sea retreated as she broke the grip of the tumbling waters. Soft swells revealed an ever-lengthening expanse of smooth, mocha-colored skin. Warm rivulets of salty water ran down her from long wavy auburn hair. She had been swimming hard against the retreating tide. The breeze rustling the palm fronds she watched along the beach felt like the gentle breath of angels.

“Here’s an Agua de Pipa with ice”, I offered.

“Just what I need. I’m parched”, she quickly responded as I held out the dark brown ball that was a chilled, wet coconut.

A hole had been sliced into its top to admit a long yellow straw. She sipped for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity to her salt-cracked throat, the sweetness contrasting the Pacific’s salt. Whirling abruptly, she dropped into the blue wooden lounge chair next to me, throwing a cartoon character towel across her dripping torso. Her feet buried themselves in the moist, warm sand. Shade from the blue and white canvas beach umbrella blocked the late morning Acapulco sun. Raggedly clad vendors plodded their way along the beach hawking chili-powder-sprinkled mangoes, cheese-filled roast platano slathered with sweet cream, and clear plastic bags of brightly-colored soft drinks. Straws protruded from their twist-tied tops.

“Would you like a nice, relaxing neck and back massage?”

Looking up, the face of a middle-aged black woman appeared. Her sun-bleached brown and black hair in neatly-done dreadlocks. “Only 10 pesos to do your head and neck.” Stepping behind me she began to massage my neck and shoulders briskly. The scent of perfumed coconut oil adding to the sensation. “A full body massage is only 50 pesos”, she added.

Much drier now from the sun, heat and towel, my wife chimed in, “Go ahead and get one. I’ll treat you for Father’s Day.”

Together they made me an offer I didn’t refuse. The Rasta woman spread our large cartoon character towel on the crystal sand. I prostrated myself on its moistness and in moments began to drift wonderfully away to the sensation of a thousand magic fingers on my sun-tanned skin and the aroma of perfumed coconut oil.
Getting to Acapulco

Getting to Acapulco is pretty simple; from Mexico City, it’s a six-hour, 230-peso bus ride from the South Terminal (Terminal Sur - metro stop: Tasque

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