On the Plaza Grande

The first place I went to outside the United States on my own was Yucatán in 1975. I have elsewhere described my feelings about landing in a strange tropical city at night. Something happened to me: I fell in love with the place and kept coming back, maybe eight or ten times in all. There was Calle 60, the Plaza Grande with its confidenciales, the 1901 Gran Hotel, Poc Chuc at the Restaurant Express, the refreshing fruit drinks at Jugos California, the nearness to hundreds of fascinating Maya ruins. And the Gulf of Mexico was only an hour away by bus.

Oh, it was hot and humid all right; but one learned to slow down and look out through the eyes of a lizard.

Calle 60 Street Corner Signs

Although Mérida is in Mexico, it is more of a Yucatec Maya city than a Mexican one. Most of the people are of Maya ancestry, and one frequently hears the Maya language spoken on the street. The city has fascinating museums of Maya civilization, art, and even music. You can find Mexican antojitos, but you are more likely to find Maya dishes like cochinita pibil, pavo en relleno negro, or pulpo en su tinta. You can even find hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza.

Lunch at Chaya Maya Near Parque Santa Lucia

Many of my favorite restaurants are gone, like Erik’s Mil Tortas, El Portico de Peregrino, and the Restaurant Express; but interesting new ones have opened up.

Even though the sidewalks are narrow amid the heavy auto traffic, Mérida is a great walking city. When I went last in January 2000, I walked so much that I got a horrible blister on my right foot and had to see a local doctor to clean it out and patch it up. I was in a little hotel (shown below) that was almost half a mile from the main square.

The Hotel Piazzetta at Parque de la Mejorada

When I checked out of the hotel to leave for the airport, the cute young daughter of the owner came out to the taxicab and gave me a friendly kiss. One remembers things like that in the long days, weeks, months, and years that follow.