Back to Feed
Long Read

Mexico City Through My Lens: Sunny Skies and Sweater Weather

@Topiclo Admin3/19/2026blog

mexico city doesn’t do subtlety. it’s chaos, color, and the kind of heat that clings to your skin like it’s trying to tell you a story. i’m here for the third week of february, and the forecasters say it’s
19.09°c right now-technically spring, but with a stubborn January clinging to the ground. feels like 17.89? close enough. humidity’s at 32%, which might sound dry but lands like desert wind, scrubbing your face raw. locals swear by sweaters here, even in ’daylight, which is weird but makes sense. i’m layering with a vintage flannel i stole from my grandpa’s attic. it’s warm, it’s wrinkled, it’s mine now.

*pro tip: never trust sunrise. the light here shifts like a mood ring. golden hour hits at 5:47 am, and if you’re not out there by 6, you’ll miss the way the sun makes the zócalo’s buildings glow like they’re blushing. tried it last week-burned my DSLR lens, but the photos? fire.

i’m shooting from a tricycle. bought it from a guy near the mercado de los angeles, who gave it to me in exchange for a photo of his rotund dog. that dog’s now my hero. also, he peed on my tripod. budget win.

neighbors” are tricky here. if you get bored, tepoztlán’s just an hour south, but honestly? the city’s got enough weirdness in its thirteen municipalities. my hostel neighbor in coyoacán mentioned this to me: ‘if you need peace, go to the mountains. but the city has its own heartbeat. even the trash cans here sound like drum solos.’ fair.

something a local warned me about: don’t order the chapulines at that trendy mezcal bar downtown. drunk bartender swore they were cricket-flavored tofu. joked about it with a friend, and she showed up with a cricket life hack-squeezed lime on her mouth to fake it. we’re now starting a podcast called the great chapuline deception.

food is the easiest part. la tortu”-wait, scratched that out. let’s say: ‘la arraza is where you realize mexico city isn’t just food. it’s cravings. addictive. i had huitlacoche tamales at a stall run by a woman named rosa, who kept saying’es la semilla de mi vida.’ her spices? lethal. my stomach forgives her. neighbors told me she’s been cooking there since 1978. her grandchildren can’t look at a torta without gagging.

walked around centro histórico today. too many tripadvisor links for churches, but the real magic’s in the tiny bodegas. El Güero’s a hole-in-the-wall alley spot where they serve brisket so tender it’ll haunt your dreams. someone posted a review on Yelp calling it ‘the devil’s ribbone of meat.’ accurate.

then I wandered up to the palacio de bellas artes. the murals? overwhelming. too many quotes about revolution and death. felt like a gothic concert crowd. later, tried to hail a taxi; it smelled like sweat and political instability. cabbie asked if I was there to ‘find myself.’ I said yes. he laughed like I’d just won the lottery. lied.

i ended up at that mural where the artist painted himself into a corner like a critic doodling in the margins. pro tip: press your face against the glass. the paint’s sticky from humidity. might kiss your forehead. don’t worry, they’re all the same weight anyway.

public transport’s a circus. took a metro to the edge of the city-tecámachalco? never heard of it. turns out, it’s a suburb where the internet’s slower but the mole is thicker. contradiction. neighbors say it’s the perfect place to fake out your ex.

weather-wise: temp_max here is 19.09. temp_min* is the same. basically, eternal sweater weather. pressure’s at 1014 hPa, which my asthmatic friend from la says is too much. but everyone’s fine here. the grass isn’t greener; it’s dry like it’s trying to blend with the pavement.

next stop: lafc352 in quito, mexico (yes, mexico city has a quito). heard their al pastor is cursed. will come back to find out.

© 2023, all rights to the chaos belong to me. neighbors swear I’m lying about the cricket thing. probably are.

You might also be interested in:

About the author: Topiclo Admin

Writing code, prose, and occasionally poetry.

Loading discussion...