We had a long day yesterday, so no blog. Frida Khalo’s house
was our destiny in Coayacan.
Catching the Metro on a Saturday was a breeze, but we didn’t even think of the consequences on a week day. So with our 80 cents paid for (2 return tickets) we arrived at the designated line. It was 10.30 am, and the station was busy…. but when the train arrived… Keith let out an expletive…. the train was packed.
We’d heard about the busy times, and I’ve seen packed trains in Japan, but boy this was unconceivable.
OK, do as the locals do. Push!!!!!!
Keith got on and I got jammed in the door, but I managed to free myself.
I think Keith got on but I couldn’t see him.
After a couple of stations the crowd dissipated a little and I realised that Keith was indeed on the train.
It’s just really interesting to see the people around us.
A group of businessmen with urgent eyes listening to a conference call. A grandmother or a maybe an older Mother with a newborn who was just beautiful. Young men returning from a party who laughed very loudly for the 30 minutes of the ride.
Absolutely delightful music plays loudly adding to the ambiance. At each station, young men with a CD player and a backpack containing large speakers get on for just one or two stations and play the CD they wish to hawk in the train.
A young man gets on selling juicy fruit chewing gum and toothbrushes.
Keith and I still separated watch for the station to get off and we hope we are co-ordinated.

The house where Frida Khalo was born is indigo blue and red.
"Are you over 60?" the young attendant asks, Keith choked and said "of course, I’m 63" I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow….
Speak for yourself Honey….I am over 60, but I’ll do the admitting thanks.
"Because you are old, you get in free",…. Ok so it does have some benefits, I’ll admit it.

It was fascinating to see her house