Mexico City is a sprawling and electrifying capital where ancient Aztec heritage meets contemporary culture — a city of world-class museums and remarkable street food that rewards every curious traveller with unforgettable experiences at every turn.
Mexico: Mexico City – Coyoacán and Frida Kahlo’s Casa Azul
🌿 Coyoacán — A Breath of Fresh Air in the World’s Most Chaotic City
Mexico City is, to put it mildly, a lot. It’s a sprawling, heaving megalopolis of around 22 million people, all apparently in a tremendous hurry to be somewhere else at exactly the same time as you. The traffic is biblical, the noise is relentless, and the sheer scale of the place is enough to make even the most seasoned traveller want a quiet lie down. So imagine our surprise — and frankly, our relief — when we stumbled upon something that felt almost calm. Almost civilised. Almost like someone had forgotten to tell it that it was supposed to be mad.
That place was Coyoacán.
🏡 A Village That Refused to Be Swallowed
Coyoacán spent centuries as a quietly independent rural village, sitting apart from the great urban monster growing to its north. It managed to hold out until the mid-19th century, when Mexico City finally got its hands on it, absorbing it in 1857. And yet — and this is the remarkable bit — Coyoacán simply refused to play along. It kept its original street layout, its narrow cobblestone lanes, its leafy plazas, and its handsome colonial architecture. While the rest of the city thundered forward, Coyoacán just pottered on regardless. Good for it.
⛪ Hidalgo Square — The Heart of the Matter
We began, as one sensibly should, at the Hidalgo Square, the traditional heart of Coyoacán. It’s an animated, lively sort of place — flanked by restaurants that are, as is seemingly the law in any nice square anywhere in the world, a touch on the pricey side. There was also a lovely craft market, which we poked around in with the enthusiasm of people who had no intention of carrying anything heavy back to the hotel.
We passed through the gates into the park itself and found ourselves on shaded, tree-lined pathways — the kind that make you slow down whether you intend to or not. At the centre of the square sits a rather handsome fountain, topped by a bronze statue of two coyotes. This is no idle decoration. Coyoacán takes its name directly from the Nahuatl language of the Aztecs, and it translates, delightfully, as “place of the abundant coyotes.” One imagines the ancient Aztecs were not overly burdened with imagination when it came to place names, but it has a certain honest charm.
At the head of the square stands the Franciscan church and convent of San Juan Bautista. It was founded by the Franciscan order in the 16th century — around 1552, to be reasonably precise — making it one of the older colonial religious buildings in the region. And here’s what we appreciated most: its façade is pleasantly restrained and simple. No Gothic excess, no riot of carved stone cherubs or tortured saints. Just clean, calm, colonial stonework. After touring Mexico and being battered senseless by some of the country’s more exuberantly decorated churches, this felt like a genuine kindness.
By this point it was well into early afternoon, and we were, as the British so elegantly put it, getting a bit peckish. The restaurants around the square had looked perfectly agreeable, but our tour guide — a man of clear good sense and local knowledge — steered us firmly away from them and towards the Central Market instead. Wise move. Tourist restaurants in pretty squares have a universal tendency to serve food that’s just expensive enough to be disappointing.
On the way to the market, we made what turned out to be a very necessary stop. Lining the streets of Coyoacán, as they do across much of Mexico, are small shops and stalls dedicated entirely to the noble business of selling churros. For the uninitiated — and if you are, do sort that out immediately — a churro is a ridged tube of deep-fried dough, crisp on the outside, soft within, and quite frankly one of the better things Spain ever gave to the world. The Spanish brought them to Mexico during the colonial period, and the Mexicans, quite rightly, decided to keep them and improve upon the concept considerably.
The churros here were wonderfully fresh, clearly made to order, and came with a range of toppings and fillings that was, if we’re being honest, completely overwhelming. Chocolate, caramel, cream, fruit fillings — the list went on. We stood there for what felt like an unreasonable amount of time, dithering in the way that only the British truly can when confronted with too many perfectly good options. Eventually we chose. We were not disappointed. We may have gone back for seconds.
Our hunger was only partially dealt with at that point, so we had just enough self-control to wander around the market for a bit before surrendering entirely to the business of sitting down and eating properly. We drifted through the usual glorious jumble of stalls — crafts, trinkets, things you don’t need but somehow end up buying anyway — in the pleasantly aimless way that only happens when you’re on holiday and nobody is expecting you anywhere.
What did stop us in our tracks was the Christmas section. It was, not to put too fine a point on it, absolutely mental. Towering artificial trees in every colour known to man, baubles the size of your head, tinsel in industrial quantities, and decorations of such extraordinary ambition that you had to admire the sheer audacity of it all. Mexico does not do understated Christmas.
The truly disorienting part was stepping back and remembering that it was late November. We were standing in warm sunshine, sleeves rolled up, sweating gently in temperatures nudging the mid-20s Celsius — mid-70s Fahrenheit for those still working in old money — with not a hint of frost to suggest that Christmas was a mere month away. Back home it would have been dark by half past three and raining sideways. The cognitive dissonance of admiring a glittering six-foot purple Christmas tree while quietly melting in the sunshine was, frankly, a lot to process. My brain filed a formal complaint and briefly went on strike.
We pushed on deeper into the market, away from the tourist trinkets, and that’s where things got properly interesting. The further in we went, the more the place revealed itself as an actual, functioning market rather than a stage set for visiting foreigners with cameras and sunburn. Stalls piled high with tomatoes, chillies, mangoes, avocados, and what appeared to be every variety of dried bean known to mankind. Mountains of fresh produce stacked with a careless artistry that no supermarket could ever quite replicate. It looked, for want of a better word, wholesome.
Which brings me, inevitably, to Walmart. Yes, even here. Even in Mexico. The great grey tentacle of American retail has reached all the way down and set up shop, flogging the same shrink-wrapped mediocrity it peddles everywhere else on earth.
And yet a great many Mexicans simply aren’t interested. They’d rather come here, to their local Mercado, and buy their tomatoes from the woman who’s been selling them from the same spot for thirty years — someone who actually knows what a good avocado looks like, rather than leaving it to an algorithm in Arkansas. There’s something quietly magnificent about that. We absolutely loved it.
The food stalls were tucked mostly towards the heart of the market, where the noise and the smells reached their natural peak. The local speciality, we were reliably informed, was tostadas — flat, crispy tortillas piled high with various toppings — and since we were in Mexico and it would have been frankly rude not to, we joined the queue.
A word of warning for any vegetarians or vegans reading this. Mexico is, to put it diplomatically, a nation that takes its meat very seriously — with the commitment of people who have never once entertained the idea that a meal might not contain something that used to have a heartbeat. The vast majority of tostada fillings involved meat in one form or another, which rather narrows the field if you’ve given the stuff up.
After a bit of squinting, pointing, and the kind of halting Spanish that makes native speakers visibly wince, we did manage to identify one or two fillings that suited us rather better. We grabbed a couple of tostadas, found a spot, and got them down us with considerable enthusiasm. Crunchy, fresh, and tasting of precisely the sort of thing you want to be eating while standing in a Mexican market feeling quietly pleased with yourself.
We found ourselves across from the market, in another of those leafy little parks that Coyoacán does so well — the kind with plenty of shady benches just begging to be sat on. After a thoroughly decent lunch, which we’d needed rather more than we cared to admit, we had just enough time to park ourselves down, stop pretending we were energetic tourists, and simply watch the world go pleasantly by around us. Which, in a place this agreeable, is really no hardship at all.
🎨 Frida Kahlo — A Life in Paint and Pain
Frida Kahlo — widely considered one of Mexico’s greatest artists — was born on 6th July 1907 in the Coyoacán district of Mexico City. Not that she was particularly keen on admitting it. She preferred to tell people she was born in 1910, which happened to be the year the Mexican Revolution kicked off. One imagines it made for a better story at dinner parties.
She grew up in the family home, a vivid cobalt-blue building that became famous as the Casa Azul — the Blue House — which still stands today as the Museo Frida Kahlo. Her father, Wilhelm (Guillermo) Kahlo, was a German-born photographer who emigrated to Mexico in 1891, changed his name to something less alarming, and eventually met and married Matilde Calderón y González. Guillermo documented Mexican architecture and archaeological sites — serious, respected work — and proved to be a thoroughly committed supporter of his daughter, which, as we shall see, turned out to matter enormously.
Frida’s early years were a catalogue of misfortune. At the age of six she contracted polio and spent nine months bedridden. The disease left her right leg noticeably thinner and shorter than the left, giving her a pronounced limp for life. She took to wearing long, flowing Tehuana skirts to conceal the deformity — which rather neatly transformed a medical necessity into a defining artistic statement. Good thinking, that. Despite all this, Frida was not the sort to sit quietly feeling sorry for herself. With her father’s enthusiastic backing, she played football, swam, and even took up wrestling. Yes, wrestling. One rather suspects the other children didn’t give her too much grief about the limp.
In 1922, Frida enrolled at the prestigious National Preparatory School in Mexico City — one of the country’s finest institutions, and one of the first to admit girls. It was there she had her first encounter with Diego Rivera, the celebrated muralist who was busy painting a large work called The Creation in the school’s Bolívar Amphitheatre. Rivera was already famous, considerably older, and not the sort of man you’d describe as conventionally trim. Frida watched him work and told a friend, with remarkable self-confidence, that she intended to marry him one day. She wasn’t wrong.
In September 1925, the wooden bus Frida was travelling in collided violently with a streetcar. The results were catastrophic. A steel handrail passed clean through her hip. Her spine was fractured in three places, her right leg shattered in eleven, and her pelvis crushed. She spent weeks in hospital before returning home for months of recuperation in a full-body plaster cast. The accident left her in chronic pain — physical and psychological — that would never fully leave her. It also ended any chance she had of bearing children. She suffered several miscarriages over the years, each one a grief of its own.
During those long months of forced stillness, Frida needed something to do. Her parents had a special easel built so she could paint lying down, and provided brushes, paints, and — presumably — considerable patience. She began painting herself, completing her first self-portrait in 1926. She later explained it rather simply: “I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.” No grand manifesto — just a woman in bed with a paintbrush and a mirror.
By 1928, Frida had reconnected with Rivera at a gathering in Mexico City’s left-wing artistic circles. Her mother was firmly against the match — Rivera was twenty-one years older, twice divorced, famously unfaithful, and a committed communist. All perfectly reasonable objections. They married in August 1929 regardless. The early years were nomadic, following Rivera’s commissions around the United States. When Rivera inserted a portrait of Lenin into his Rockefeller Center mural in New York, the commission was promptly cancelled and the mural eventually destroyed. The couple returned to Mexico in 1933. Rivera was probably not easy company on the journey home.
The Rivera-Kahlo marriage was, to put it charitably, unconventional. Both had affairs — Rivera rather more enthusiastically, including, mortifyingly, with Frida’s own sister Cristina. They separated several times. They were deeply attached to one another and equally capable of making each other thoroughly miserable. Modern relationship counsellors would have had a field day.
Both Kahlo and Rivera were committed communists. In 1937, they offered sanctuary to Leon Trotsky and his wife Natalia, who had been expelled from the Soviet Union by Stalin. The Trotskys moved into the Casa Azul. During this period, Kahlo and Trotsky conducted a brief affair — handled, apparently, with a discretion that Rivera himself might have profitably studied. Trotsky was eventually assassinated in Mexico City in 1940 by a Stalinist agent armed with an ice axe. History is rarely dull.
Through the late 1930s, Kahlo’s reputation grew well beyond Mexico. She exhibited in New York in 1938 and Paris in 1939, where she was embraced by the Surrealists — though she was dismissive of the label, insisting she painted her own reality rather than anyone else’s dreams. Commissions followed. Recognition followed. The world was, belatedly, paying attention.
Kahlo and Rivera divorced in 1939 and remarried in 1940 — which tells you more or less everything you need to know about their relationship. Her father Guillermo died in 1941, a loss she felt keenly. Throughout the 1940s, as her fame grew, her health continued its steady deterioration. Surgery after surgery failed to relieve her chronic spinal pain. In 1950 she was diagnosed with gangrene in her right foot, and in 1953 part of her right leg was amputated below the knee — the same leg weakened by polio nearly half a century before. She spent nine months in hospital, endured multiple further operations, and was largely bedridden. And yet she continued to paint. The persistence of the woman was, frankly, extraordinary.
Frida Kahlo died on 13th July 1954 — just one week after her 47th birthday — at the Casa Azul where she had spent so much of her life. The official cause of death was recorded as pulmonary embolism. Many who knew her suspected suicide, brought on by the depression of a lifetime of unrelenting pain. She was cremated, and her ashes remain at the Casa Azul to this day. She left behind roughly 143 paintings, 55 of them self-portraits. Not a vast output by some standards — but then she spent a considerable portion of her life in a plaster cast or on an operating table, which does rather put a dent in one’s productivity.
🏠 Getting Into the Casa Azul
The Kahlo family home has been in family hands since Frida was born there in 1907, and today it operates as the Museo Frida Kahlo — better known to everyone simply as the Casa Azul, or Blue House, named for the extraordinarily vivid cobalt-blue exterior that Frida and Diego Rivera had painted in the 1930s. It sits in the bohemian Coyoacán neighbourhood in the south of Mexico City, a barrio that predates the Aztec empire and still manages to feel like a village despite being swallowed whole by one of the largest cities on earth.
Because it was a private home, the rooms are genuinely small — this wasn’t Blenheim Palace — and so the number of visitors allowed inside at any one time is strictly limited and controlled. Which inevitably means a queue. A proper, committed, going-nowhere queue. And you cannot buy tickets online or in advance, which in the age of the internet feels like a deliberate act of institutional stubbornness.
We were lucky — our guide sorted the tickets and quietly shepherded us in, which I’m not going to pretend wasn’t enormously satisfying. Even so, there were still considerable numbers of people waiting patiently outside, and this was only a couple of hours before closing time.
You can pay by credit card, which is sensible. Cash payments, however, are pesos only — so don’t turn up clutching a fistful of dollars and expecting anyone to care.
A couple of things worth knowing before you go in: there’s a 30-peso charge if you want to use your camera, and flash photography is not permitted. There are also multimedia guides available to rent for a few dollars if you want something a bit more structured than wandering about looking confused, which is broadly our preferred approach.
🌿 The Courtyard Garden
The moment you step through the entrance, you are stopped in your tracks by the Casa Azul’s walled courtyard garden, and I mean genuinely stopped — it is one of those spaces that makes you involuntarily slow down and look properly. It is strikingly beautiful and, against all reasonable expectation given the number of tourists milling about, surprisingly tranquil.
The garden is a thoughtfully constructed space, criss-crossed with narrow paths that carve out the beds between them. These beds are densely planted — lush bushes, broad-leafed shrubs and mature shade trees that keep everything cool and slightly dappled. It feels cared for rather than manicured, which is exactly right for a home that belonged to someone who understood that nature should be allowed a certain amount of its own opinion.
Dotted around the garden are some genuinely lovely features that reward a proper look rather than a quick glance on the way to the next room. One in particular stopped us in our tracks — a partially enclosed area absolutely packed with bright orange and red blooms, the kind of vivid, almost aggressive colour that Frida herself favoured and which appears repeatedly throughout her paintings. It felt less like a flower bed and more like a deliberate statement.
And then there are the skeleton figures. Strange, slightly unsettling characters positioned about the place, staring at you with the cheerful indifference that only the dead can really pull off. To anyone unfamiliar with Mexican culture, they might seem a touch macabre — but they make perfect sense once you understand that in Mexico, death has never been something to be shuffled out of sight and not talked about at dinner. The skeleton as a figure of fun, even of affection, is deeply embedded in Mexican folk tradition, most visibly in the annual Día de los Muertos celebrations every November, when families gather at gravesides to eat, drink and generally catch up with departed relatives as though they’ve just popped back for the weekend.
Frida, who spent much of her life in considerable pain following a catastrophic bus accident in 1925 that left her with injuries she never fully recovered from, had a complicated and very personal relationship with mortality. The skeletons in her garden were not there by accident.
Taken together — the riot of colour, the folk art figures, the lush planting — it amounted to a truly wonderful and vibrant space. One of those rare places that manages to feel both deeply personal and entirely welcoming at the same time.
🖼️ The House Itself
The main body of the museum is the rooms of the house itself, several of which have been kept more or less as they were when Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera actually lived there — which, given the turbulent nature of their relationship, was not always at the same time. They married in 1929, divorced in 1939, then remarried in 1940, which suggests either a profound and enduring love or a spectacular inability to learn from experience. Possibly both.
Kahlo lived in the Casa Azul throughout much of her life — born there in 1907 and dying there in 1954 — and the rooms reflect that long, complicated history. You get a genuine sense of two very large personalities having occupied the same relatively modest space.
Some of Kahlo’s own work is on display, and it is well worth seeing in its proper context. Her paintings take on a different quality when you are standing in the house where she actually made them, surrounded by the objects she chose to keep close. It gives the work a directness that you simply don’t get in a gallery.
That said, many of her most celebrated pieces are not here. They are scattered across institutions around the world — New York, San Francisco, various European museums and the Museo Dolores Olmedo back in Mexico City. What the Casa Azul offers instead is something arguably more interesting: the life, rather than just the art.
🍳 The Kitchen
We have always had a soft spot for a room that actually lets the light in, so the kitchen stopped us in our tracks. It was bright, colourful and cheerful in the way that only a Mexican kitchen of that era could pull off without looking like someone had accidentally decorated it during a particularly enthusiastic visit to a paint shop.
If we’re being honest, if we lived here we’d have done something remarkably similar ourselves. Possibly identical, in fact. My other half would probably have claimed it was entirely her idea.
🛏️ Diego’s Bedroom
Tucked just off the kitchen is Diego Rivera’s bedroom. Now, a married couple not sharing a bedroom might raise an eyebrow back home, but in Diego’s case it was entirely understandable. The man had what you might diplomatically call a complicated relationship with fidelity — he managed to have affairs with what appeared to be a significant portion of the female population of Mexico, including, with a spectacular lack of judgement even by his own considerable standards, Frida’s younger sister Cristina.
Frida was no saint herself, it should be said — her own list of dalliances included the Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky, who was living in exile at the Casa Azul at the time, which must have made breakfast a fairly interesting occasion. But Diego’s relentless carrying-on was by any measure extraordinary, and separate bedrooms seem, on reflection, the very least that was warranted.
🎨 Painting Through the Pain
What is perhaps most remarkable about Frida Kahlo is not the paintings themselves — extraordinary as they are — but the sheer bloody-minded determination it took to produce them.
Frida’s health, to put it diplomatically, was a catastrophe from start to finish. She contracted polio at six, survived a devastating bus collision in 1925 that left her with a shattered pelvis, broken spinal column and eleven leg fractures, and spent the rest of her life enduring some thirty-five operations. She died in 1954, aged just forty-seven.
And yet she painted. Prolifically, as it happens.
To manage this, she needed some rather unconventional equipment. During her long periods of confinement to bed, a specially adapted easel allowed her to paint lying flat on her back, whilst a mirror fixed above her reflected her own image back at her — which is how so many of her self-portraits came to exist. She was, in a very literal sense, the only subject conveniently available.
It is the most stubbornly human response imaginable to an almost inhuman amount of suffering.
🛏️ Frida’s Bedroom
The final room on the tour of the main house is Frida Kahlo’s bedroom, and after everything you’ve seen — the vivid colours, the folk art, the kitchen, the studio — it comes as something of a surprise. It is modest to the point of being almost austere. No grand statements, no theatrical flourishes. Just a quietly personal space that feels, rather movingly, as though she has only recently stepped out of it.
Frida left instructions that upon her death she wished to be cremated — a decision that was, frankly, ahead of its time in Catholic Mexico in 1954. Her ashes are kept here in the bedroom, contained within a pre-Hispanic ceramic urn in the shape of a frog. The frog was not an arbitrary choice. Diego Rivera — painter, muralist, serial husband, and general force of nature — had a habit of calling himself el sapo-rana, which translates, charmingly, as “the toad-frog.” It was Frida’s own private joke made permanent: even in death, she kept him close, albeit in amphibian form.
It is, when you think about it, exactly the sort of gesture you’d expect from someone who spent a lifetime making deeply personal statements with enormous wit and absolutely no apology whatsoever.
☕ The Garden, the Gift Shop and a Moment’s Peace
At this point, the tour winds back out of the house and deposits you once again into the beautiful walled garden, which is exactly where you want to be. There is a gift shop — inevitably — and a small café where you can get a decent coffee and a pastry and simply sit for a while. Which, after the concentrated business of looking at everything very seriously, is rather welcome. We did exactly that, and thoroughly enjoyed doing very little in a lovely setting.
👗 Appearances Can Be Deceiving: The Dresses of Frida Kahlo
During our visit, a separate exhibition was also running, and it turned out to be rather extraordinary. Entitled Appearances Can Be Deceiving: The Dresses of Frida Kahlo, it came about as a result of a remarkable discovery made in 2004, when a locked bathroom in the Casa Azul — sealed at Diego Rivera’s instruction following Frida’s death in 1954 and apparently untouched for fifty years — was finally opened. Inside were hundreds of personal items: clothing, medicines, letters, photographs and prosthetics, all preserved in an accidental time capsule of extraordinary intimacy.
The exhibition is arranged across five rooms and traces the development of Kahlo’s intensely personal sense of style, examining how disability, Mexican regional tradition, fashion and personal identity all fed into the way she presented herself to the world. The first three rooms display an assortment of her corsets and medical braces — brutal, utilitarian objects that she transformed, characteristically, into canvases for painting and decoration — alongside her remarkable clothing, much of it drawn from the traditional dress of the Tehuana women of the Tehuantepec region of Oaxaca, which she adopted as both political statement and personal signature.
The final rooms shift gear considerably, showing how Kahlo’s visual language rippled outward into international haute couture. Designers including Jean-Paul Gaultier and Riccardo Tisci both developed collections directly inspired by her aesthetic — proof, if it were needed, that a woman who spent much of her life in pain and relative obscurity ended up influencing the runways of Paris and Milan rather more than anyone might have predicted at the time.
We loved every minute of it, and I don’t say that lightly — I’m not a man naturally given to gushing. Coyoacán is a genuinely lovely area to wander about in, with streets that actually invite you to slow down rather than simply survive them. There are excellent places to eat, proper Mexican food rather than the tourist-facing approximations you find closer to the Zócalo, and the whole neighbourhood has a relaxed, almost village-like quality that feels entirely at odds with the sprawling megacity surrounding it.
The Casa Azul itself is a fascinating window into the complicated, painful and extraordinary life of Frida Kahlo — arguably Mexico’s most iconic cultural figure, and a woman whose story manages to be both deeply personal and somehow universal at the same time. She was born in the house in 1907, lived much of her turbulent life within its cobalt walls alongside the volcanic muralist Diego Rivera, and died there in 1954. The house absorbed all of it, and you feel that.
Taken together — the neighbourhood and the museum — you could very comfortably fill half a day without once feeling rushed. It makes for a genuinely welcome change of pace from the relentless scale of the rest of Mexico City, which, let’s be honest, can leave you feeling slightly flattened by lunchtime.
In summary …
- Coyoacán is a fun place to wander around, especially around the main plaza with its bars and restaurants. Try a churro!
- If you are looking for a less expensive option for eating then head to the main market (Mercado) where you’ll find plenty of options. It is also a great place just to explore.
- If you love contemporary art and history then a trip to Casa Azul, the Frida Kahlo Museum is recommended. She had a colourful life and taste in general – all of which is on show here.
Planning Your Visit
🏘️ Coyoacán
Coyoacán is one of Mexico City’s most captivating and historically layered neighbourhoods, located approximately ten kilometres south of the city’s historic centre. Its name derives from the Nahuatl language and is generally translated as “place of the coyotes,” a nod reflected in the twin bronze coyote statues that stand at the heart of its central fountain.
The area was originally settled by the Tepanec people, who migrated into the Valley of Mexico during the twelfth century. Following the fall of the Aztec Empire in 1521, Hernán Cortés established Coyoacán as the first seat of Spanish colonial government in New Spain, making it one of the oldest continuously inhabited districts in the entire region. Its elevation above the lake basin that once dominated the valley helped spare it from the devastating floods that plagued what would become the capital.
Colonial churches, cobblestone streets, and graceful plazas remain largely intact, giving Coyoacán a distinctly village-like character at odds with the vast, buzzing metropolis that has grown up around it. The neighbourhood’s relaxed rhythm and bohemian spirit have historically attracted artists, intellectuals, and political thinkers. Notable figures who have lived here include the painter Frida Kahlo, exiled Russian revolutionary León Trotsky, poet Octavio Paz, and muralist Rufino Tamayo. Its proximity to the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) also lends it a lively, youthful energy.
Today, Coyoacán rewards unhurried exploration. The central Plaza Hidalgo and the adjoining Jardín Centenario form the social heart of the neighbourhood, flanked by the sixteenth-century Parroquia de San Juan Bautista church, built upon the foundations of a pre-Columbian temple. The surrounding streets are lined with independent cafés, artisan stalls, bookshops, and restaurants serving traditional Mexican food. Weekend markets bring the plazas to life with craft vendors and street performers.
Beyond the Frida Kahlo Museum, other points of interest include the former home of León Trotsky, now the Museo Casa de León Trotsky, and the tranquil Viveros de Coyoacán, a large tree nursery and public park popular with joggers and families. The adjacent neighbourhood of San Ángel, easily reached on foot or by a short taxi ride, offers further colonial architecture and the celebrated Bazar del Sábado artisan market.
🎨 Casa Azul — Museo Frida Kahlo
Casa Azul, or the Blue House, is one of the most visited cultural sites in Mexico City and among the most emotionally powerful house museums in Latin America. Named for its vivid cobalt-blue exterior walls, the building served as the home of Frida Kahlo for the majority of her life. She was born here in 1907, spent much of her childhood and adult years within its walls, and died here in 1954. Her husband, the celebrated muralist Diego Rivera, shared the house with her from 1931.
Frida Kahlo is widely regarded as one of the most significant and distinctive artists of the twentieth century. Her intensely autobiographical paintings drew on her experience of chronic physical pain — the result of a debilitating bus accident in 1927 — as well as her Mexican identity, political convictions, and turbulent personal life. Her work blends realism with surrealism, folk art imagery, and deeply personal symbolism, and it has influenced generations of artists worldwide.
The house was opened to the public as a museum in July 1958, four years after Kahlo’s death, at the initiative of Diego Rivera and the Banco de México. Since then it has grown into an extraordinary testament to her personality, creativity, and legacy. The collection includes a number of her own paintings, pre-Columbian sculptures, folk art objects, personal belongings, correspondence, books, and furniture, all preserved largely as they were during her lifetime. Her studio, with its wheelchair positioned before an unfinished portrait, is one of the most affecting spaces in the entire museum. The kitchen, decorated with traditional Talavera tiles and the names of Frida and Diego spelled out in clay pots, reflects the couple’s deep pride in Mexican cultural identity.
The lush interior courtyard garden, filled with tropical plants, sculptures, and the muted sound of water, offers a space to pause and absorb the atmosphere of the house before or after exploring its rooms.
Tickets sell out days and sometimes weeks in advance, particularly at weekends and during public holidays. Booking online through the official museum website as early as possible is strongly advised. There are no in-person ticket sales at the door.
📍 Location
Londres 247, Colonia Del Carmen, Coyoacán, Ciudad de México, México, CP 04100
🚇 How to Get There
By Metro: The most convenient approach is to take Metro Line 3 (the green line) to the Viveros or Miguel Ángel de Quevedo station. Both are within comfortable walking distance of the museum — approximately ten to fifteen minutes on foot through pleasant residential streets. From the city centre, board Line 2 towards Cuatro Caminos, change at Hidalgo, and transfer to Line 3 in the direction of Universidad.
By Bus or Pesero: Several bus routes serve the Coyoacán area, including routes 116-A, 133, 146, and 159. A southbound trolleybus running along Eje Central also provides access and drops passengers within a short walk of Casa Azul.
By Taxi or Rideshare: Apps such as Uber and Cabify operate reliably throughout Mexico City and offer a comfortable and straightforward option for reaching Coyoacán directly from anywhere in the city. Journey times vary according to traffic.
On Foot from Viveros Metro: Exit the Viveros station and walk south through the Viveros park, then follow Calle Francisco Sosa eastward — a beautifully preserved colonial street — before continuing to Londres 247.
🌐 Website
museofridakahlo.org.mx
📞 Contact Telephone
+52 55 5237 2144
facturacion@museofridakahlo.org.mx (for ticket invoicing and general enquiries)
🎟️ Entry Fees
All prices are in Mexican Pesos (MXN). Tickets must be purchased online in advance — there are no in-person ticket sales at the museum.
General admission (foreign visitors): MX$320 National residents with valid ID: MX$160 Students and teachers with valid ID: MX$60 Tour guides and operators with valid ID: MX$60 Seniors and children aged 6 to 12: MX$30 Children under 6 and visitors with disabilities: Free
Admission includes access to the Diego Rivera-Anahuacalli Museum in Coyoacán at no additional charge. Card payments (Visa, Mastercard, and American Express) are accepted on site, though not for online purchases.
🕙 Opening Times
Tuesday: 10:00 – 18:00 Wednesday: 11:00 – 18:00 Thursday to Sunday: 10:00 – 18:00 Monday: Closed
Last entry is at 17:00 on all open days.
Special hours apply on 15 September, 24 December, and 31 December, when the museum closes at 14:00. The museum is closed on 16 September, 1 October, 1–2 December, 25 December, and 1 January.
Getting Around Mexico City
Mexico City (CDMX) is one of the world’s great megacities — sprawling, vibrant, and surprisingly easy to navigate once you know what you’re doing. With over 21 million people in the greater metropolitan area, transport options are plentiful, ranging from one of the world’s busiest metro systems to app-based taxis and even cable cars. Here’s everything you need to know about getting in and getting around.
✈️ Arriving: Know Your Airport
Mexico City is served by two international airports, and confusing them is a surprisingly common — and costly — mistake.
Benito Juárez International Airport (MEX/AICM) is the main hub, located just 13 km east of the historic centre. The vast majority of international flights land here. It has two terminals — Terminal 1 (older, busier) and Terminal 2 (more modern) — connected by a free shuttle and the Metro.
Felipe Ángeles International Airport (NLU/AIFA) is the newer, secondary airport, situated around 45 km north of the city centre in the State of Mexico. It primarily handles budget domestic carriers such as Volaris and VivaAerobus, along with some regional international routes. Always double-check your airport code before travelling — MEX and NLU are on opposite sides of the city and a transfer between them takes upwards of 90 minutes.
🚇 From MEX Airport into the City
By Metro: The cheapest option by far. Terminal 1 is directly connected to the Metro system (Line 5, Hangares station). A single ride costs around 5 pesos (roughly 20p). However, it’s not recommended if you’re travelling with large luggage or during rush hour — the carriages get extremely crowded.
By Metrobús: Line 4 connects both terminals to the city centre. It’s more comfortable than the Metro with luggage and costs 6 pesos per journey using a travel card.
By Uber or DiDi: The most practical option for most visitors. Download the app before you travel, and request your ride once you’re in the arrivals hall. Fares into central neighbourhoods such as Roma, Condesa, or Polanco typically range from 150–300 pesos (£6–£12), depending on traffic. Avoid accepting offers from drivers who approach you inside the terminal.
By Official Airport Taxi: Pre-paid taxi desks are located in the arrivals area of both terminals. Purchase your ticket at the booth before proceeding to the taxi rank. Fares are fixed by zone. This is safe and straightforward, though slightly pricier than app-based rides. Do not accept a ride from anyone who approaches you without a pre-paid ticket.
🚌 From AIFA Airport into the City
AIFA’s location makes it a longer journey into the city centre, so plan your time accordingly.
By Train (Tren Felipe Ángeles): Launched in April 2026, this new commuter rail service connects AIFA directly to Buenavista station in the north of Mexico City. The journey takes around 40–50 minutes, and from Buenavista you can connect to the Metro and Metrobús network. A promotional fare of 45 pesos applies for the airport leg. This is now the quickest and most reliable public transport option from AIFA.
By Bus (Aerofaro Shuttle): A shuttle service runs from AIFA arrivals to Buenavista station, from where you can connect to the wider Metro network. Budget approximately 90–120 minutes total travel time to central areas.
By Uber or DiDi: Available from AIFA, but journey times into the city centre can be 60–90 minutes or more depending on traffic. Expect fares of 400–600 pesos (£16–£24).
🚇 The Metro (Sistema de Transporte Colectivo)
The Metro is the backbone of public transport in Mexico City — one of the largest metro systems in the Americas with 12 lines and 195 stations spanning over 200 kilometres. It’s fast, efficient, and extraordinarily affordable at just 5 pesos (roughly 20p) per journey, regardless of distance.
Most major tourist attractions — the Zócalo, Chapultepec Park, Coyoacán, and the Palacio de Bellas Artes — are easily reachable by Metro. The system uses a combination of numbers and colour-coded lines, and each station has its own distinctive icon (helpful if you’re still finding your feet with Spanish).
Tips for visitors:
- Avoid rush hour (7:00–9:00 and 17:00–19:00) — carriages become extremely crowded and pickpocketing risk increases
- Keep valuables secure and avoid using your phone openly
- Look out for carriages reserved for women and children, marked with pink signs — these are particularly in force during peak hours
- Purchase a Tarjeta de Movilidad Integrada (MI Card) for 15 pesos; this rechargeable card works across the Metro, Metrobús, Cablebús, light rail, and trolleybus networks
🚌 Metrobús
The Metrobús is a network of articulated buses that run in dedicated lanes, making them faster than standard city buses. There are several lines covering key corridors, including the famous Avenida Insurgentes (Line 1 — one of the longest bus rapid transit routes in the world) and Avenida Reforma. A journey costs 6 pesos and requires a travel card to board.
The Metrobús is particularly useful for travelling along the main north–south and east–west axes of the city, and connects conveniently with the Metro at many interchange points. Line 4 also serves both terminals at Benito Juárez Airport.
🚡 Cablebús (Cable Car)
One of Mexico City’s most distinctive and photogenic forms of transport, the Cablebús is a network of cable car lines operating in the hillier outskirts of the city. There are currently three lines, primarily serving working-class neighbourhoods in the east and south that have limited Metro access.
While not a practical daily commuter option for most visitors staying in central neighbourhoods, taking a ride on the Cablebús — particularly Line 1 in Iztapalapa — offers spectacular panoramic views across the city and a glimpse of everyday life beyond the tourist trail. Fares are 7 pesos with a travel card.
📱 Ride-Hailing Apps: Uber, DiDi & Cabify
For many visitors, app-based rides represent the sweet spot between safety, convenience, and value. Uber is the most widely used and reliable, with a large fleet and consistent pricing. DiDi (a Chinese-owned competitor) often undercuts Uber on price and is widely available. Cabify is another reputable option, particularly favoured for longer journeys.
All three apps show you the route, the fare, and the driver’s details before you confirm — a significant safety advantage over hailing a taxi on the street. You’ll need mobile data, so consider purchasing a local SIM card or setting up an eSIM before or upon arrival.
App-based rides are especially recommended for: journeys after dark, trips to and from bus terminals or the airport with luggage, and any destination not conveniently served by the Metro.
🌐 uber.com | didiglobal.com | cabify.com
🚕 Taxis
Mexico City has one of the largest taxi fleets in the world, and the iconic pink-and-white cabs are a familiar sight on every street. However, visitors should exercise caution.
Do not hail taxis from the street. Unofficial taxis — known colloquially as “piratas” — can pose safety risks and overcharge passengers.
Sitio taxis (taxis from authorised stands) are the recommended on-street option. They are registered, carry fixed fares, and can be found at airports, hotels, shopping centres, and major tourist sites. You can also ask your hotel or restaurant to call a registered taxi for you.
For most practical purposes, using Uber or DiDi is safer and simpler than locating a trustworthy sitio taxi.
🚲 Ecobici (Bike Share)
For visitors staying in central neighbourhoods — Roma, Condesa, Polanco, Juárez, or Centro Histórico — Ecobici is a genuinely excellent way to cover short distances without sitting in traffic. The network has over 689 stations and nearly 10,000 bikes, making it one of the most extensive bike-share systems in the Americas.
Rides of up to 45 minutes are included in the subscription fee, and you can return the bike to any station. Day passes start at around $5 USD (approximately £4), with three-day and weekly options also available. Registration is done via the app or website — no passport or lengthy paperwork required at modern stations, just a credit card. The MI Card also links to your Ecobici account.
Sundays are a particularly good day to cycle — Avenida Reforma is closed to traffic and given over entirely to cyclists and pedestrians.
🚌 Long-Distance Buses (for Day Trips & Onward Travel)
If you’re planning to visit nearby cities — Puebla, Oaxaca, Guadalajara, or Teotihuacán — Mexico City’s long-distance bus network is excellent. The main terminals are:
- TAPO (Terminal de Autobuses de Pasajeros de Oriente) — east of the city, served by Metro Line 1 (San Lázaro station). Good for Puebla, Oaxaca, and the Gulf Coast.
- Terminal Central del Norte — north of the city, reached via Metro Line 5. Good for Guadalajara, Querétaro, and the northern states.
- Terminal Poniente — west of the city (Metro Line 1, Observatorio station). Good for Toluca and western destinations.
ADO is the premier intercity bus operator, offering comfortable, air-conditioned coaches with allocated seating. Booking online in advance is recommended for popular routes.
🚶 Walking
Do not overlook the simplest option. Several of Mexico City’s best neighbourhoods reward leisurely exploration on foot. Roma Norte and Roma Sur, Condesa, Centro Histórico, Coyoacán, Polanco, and San Ángel are all walkable districts with plenty to see at street level. The altitude (2,240 metres above sea level) may leave you slightly breathless at first — take it steadily on your first day or two.
🗺️ Useful Apps for Getting Around
- Google Maps — reliable for Metro, Metrobús, and walking directions
- Moovit — excellent for real-time public transport updates and route planning
- Metro CDMX — detailed Metro map, station information, and journey times
- Uber / DiDi / Cabify — essential for ride-hailing
- Ecobici — for bike-share planning and unlocking bikes
💳 The MI Card (Tarjeta de Movilidad Integrada)
If you plan to use public transport more than once or twice, the MI Card is well worth picking up. It costs just 15 pesos and can be topped up with credit to use across the Metro, Metrobús, Cablebús, light rail, and trolleybus networks. It also links to the Ecobici bike-share system. Cards are available at Metro stations and Metrobús stops throughout the city. There is a maximum balance of 500 pesos on the card at any one time.
Mexico City’s transport network is, in truth, one of its great assets — vast, affordable, and remarkably well-connected for a city of its size. With a little planning and the right apps on your phone, getting around is far less daunting than the map might initially suggest.
The best time to visit Mexico City
🌸 Spring – Dry Season (March to May)
Spring is widely regarded as the finest time to visit Mexico City. The rainy season has not yet arrived, temperatures are pleasantly warm, and the city buzzes with cultural energy. Daytime highs hover between 22°C and 26°C, with cool evenings that rarely dip below 10°C. Skies are predominantly clear, making it ideal for exploring open-air sites such as Teotihuacán, the Zócalo, and Chapultepec Park.
March and April bring Semana Santa (Holy Week), one of Mexico’s most important religious observances, when the city fills with processions and festivities. Crowds are noticeable but not overwhelming outside of the Easter weekend peak. May sees temperatures climbing and the humidity building ahead of the summer rains — visit early in the month for the best of the season.
What to pack: Lightweight layers, a light jacket for evenings, breathable walking shoes, sunscreen, sunglasses, and a reusable water bottle. A compact umbrella is useful from late April.
⛈️ Summer – Wet Season (June to August)
Summer brings the rainy season, though this need not be a deterrent. Rain typically falls in concentrated afternoon and evening downpours lasting one to two hours, leaving mornings largely clear and pleasant. Temperatures remain mild — generally 18°C to 24°C — and the city’s parks and surrounding valleys turn a vivid green. Hotel rates are often lower, and the city’s cultural calendar remains full, with exhibitions, concerts, and street festivals running throughout the season.
The main inconvenience is the afternoon rain, which can cause traffic disruption and occasional flooding in low-lying areas. Planning outdoor activities for the morning is the sensible approach. July and August also coincide with school holidays in Mexico, so family-orientated attractions tend to be busier.
What to pack: A compact waterproof jacket or poncho, quick-dry clothing, waterproof footwear or sandals, light layers, insect repellent, and a small daypack with a dry bag for electronics.
🍂 Autumn – Transition Season (September to November)
Autumn is one of the most atmospheric and culturally rewarding times to visit. September marks the beginning of the end of the rainy season, with rainfall gradually tapering through October and drying considerably by November. Temperatures settle between 15°C and 22°C — cooler than summer but still comfortable during the day.
November is the undoubted highlight of the autumn season. Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead), celebrated on 1 and 2 November, transforms Mexico City into a spectacle of marigold-draped altars, candlelit processions, and vibrant public gatherings. The Zócalo and Mixquic are especially dramatic. Tourist numbers are rising but the city retains a more relaxed atmosphere compared with peak winter months.
What to pack: A warm layer or light wool jumper, a waterproof jacket for early September, comfortable walking shoes, festival-appropriate clothing for Día de Muertos, and a camera or smartphone with ample storage.
❄️ Winter – Dry Season (December to February)
Winter is the driest period in Mexico City and brings some of the clearest skies of the year, making it excellent for photography and open-air excursions. Daytime temperatures range from around 18°C to 20°C, though cold fronts known as nortes can push overnight temperatures close to or below 5°C, particularly in January and February.
December is the busiest and most festive month, centred on Las Posadas (16–24 December), Christmas, and New Year. The city is richly decorated, markets are in full swing, and the atmosphere is convivial. January and February are considerably quieter, representing something of a hidden gem — dry, clear, and calm, without the holiday crowds.
What to pack: A medium-weight coat or insulated jacket, warm layers for evenings and early mornings, a scarf, comfortable smart-casual clothing for festive events, and good walking shoes or boots.
📊 Season at a Glance
✅ Overall Best Time to Visit
The optimum time to visit Mexico City is from late October through to early May, taking in the tail end of autumn and the full dry season. Within that window, November stands out for its extraordinary cultural richness — Día de Muertos is a once-in-a-lifetime experience — whilst March and April offer the finest combination of weather, manageable crowds, and vibrant street life. Travellers seeking quieter streets and crisp clear skies will find January and February particularly rewarding. Mexico City rewards visits at almost any time of year given its altitude, which moderates temperatures year-round, but avoiding the peak of the wet season in June and July will make outdoor exploration considerably more enjoyable.
Vegan Dining in Mexico City
Mexico City has transformed into one of Latin America’s most exciting destinations for plant-based eating. From buzzing street-food carts in Roma Norte to cosy neighbourhood cafés, the city offers an extraordinary range of fully vegan options that rival — and often surpass — their meat-based counterparts.
🌮 Por Siempre Vegana Taquería — Food Cart & Restaurant
One of the most famous names in Mexico City’s vegan scene, Por Siempre Vegana has built a devoted following for its authentic Mexican street tacos made entirely from plants. The menu is extensive, featuring classics such as al pastor, barbacoa, chicharrón, suadero, and bistek — all crafted from soya, seitan, or wheat protein. Sweet treats like cupcakes and doughnuts round off the offering. The original food cart operates on a pavement in Roma Norte and gets very busy at peak times, with queues sometimes stretching to 30 minutes. A sit-down taquería location on Coahuila opened subsequently.
- Location: Food cart: Calle Manzanillo 18, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX. Taquería: Coahuila 169, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX
- Website: porsiempreveganataqueria.com (best reached via Instagram: @porsiempreveganataqueria)
- Phone: +52 55 6116 6266
- Opening hours:
- Food cart: Mon–Sat 1:00 pm – 11:00 pm
- Taquería: Mon–Sat 2:00 pm – midnight; Sun closed
🌸 La Pitahaya Vegana — Restaurant
La Pitahaya Vegana is instantly recognisable for its iconic pink tortillas, tinted with beetroot and chard, which have made it something of a social media sensation. The menu goes far beyond aesthetics, however — dishes such as Baja tacos, mole mixteco, enfrijoladas, enchiladas, and a pink tofu burger are all prepared with fresh organic ingredients and a genuine commitment to sustainability (the kitchen composts organic waste and recycles inorganics). The bilingual menu and friendly, English-speaking staff make it welcoming to international visitors, and delivery across Mexico City is available. The restaurant is small, so arrive early to secure a seat.
- Location: Calle Querétaro 90, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX (second location: Miguel A. de Quevedo 353, Mercado Roma Coyoacán)
- Website: lapitahayavegana.mx
- Phone: +52 55 3902 7792
- Opening hours (Roma Norte):
- Mon, Wed–Fri: 2:00 pm – 9:00 pm
- Sat–Sun: 11:00 am – 9:00 pm
- Closed Tuesday
🍔 Forever Vegano — Restaurant
Forever Vegano (also known simply as “Forever”) is a well-established all-vegan restaurant in Roma Norte with a boho, psychedelic-chic aesthetic that makes it popular for brunch, dates, and casual dinners alike. The menu takes a creative, plant-based approach to Mexican and fusion cooking — standout dishes include the Forever burger made from beans, raw coastal ceviche with coconut, mushroom aguachile, tacos al pastor with marinated mushrooms, and vegan pizza. Cocktails and craft beverages complement the food nicely. A second branch is located in the Polanco neighbourhood. The restaurant is dog-friendly and offers outdoor dining.
- Location: Calle Guanajuato 54, esquina Mérida, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX
- Website: forevervegano.com
- Phone: +52 55 6726 0975
- Opening hours:
- Mon–Sat: 9:00 am – 11:00 pm
- Sun: 9:00 am – 6:00 pm
☕ Café Vegetal — Café
Café Vegetal is a much-loved, fully vegan café with a warm, cosy atmosphere perfect for a slow breakfast or a working lunch. Its menu spans sweet and savoury ground — expect pancakes, chilaquiles, scrambled tofu, molletes, cinnamon rolls, a wide selection of cakes, and a thoughtfully curated drinks list featuring organic coffee, matcha, almond smoothies, and kombucha. The interiors — wooden furniture, lush greenery — create an inviting neighbourhood feel. Two locations serve the city: one in Narvarte Poniente and one in Coyoacán, not far from the Frida Kahlo Museum. The café is pet-friendly and offers outdoor seating.
- Location:
- Narvarte: Enrique Rébsamen 364, Narvarte Poniente, Benito Juárez, 03020 CDMX
- Coyoacán: Av. Río Churubusco 310, local C, Del Carmen, Coyoacán, 04100 CDMX
- Website: cafevegetal.com
- Phone: Not publicly listed — contact via Instagram @cafevegetalmx
- Opening hours:
- Tue–Sun: 9:00 am – 10:00 pm
- Closed Monday
🐟 Paxil – Plant Based Seafood — Food Cart
Paxil is one of the most talked-about and original vegan food stalls in Mexico City, drawing visitors from around the world for its entirely plant-based take on Mexican coastal seafood cuisine. The owner has developed remarkable techniques to recreate the flavours and textures of the sea — tomato becomes raw tuna, various mushrooms stand in for fish, and the results are genuinely astonishing. The menu includes fish tacos, tostadas with “vegatún,” the signature Paxil taco, the Takeshi (a sushi-inspired dish with nori, rice and tamarind sauce), zarandeado, ceviche, and vegan fish and chips. The bright blue and white stall is hard to miss, and queues form quickly at weekends.
- Location: Orizaba 83 (4th stall), Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX
- Website: Instagram: @paxil.plantbasedseafood (no standalone website)
- Phone: +52 55 3035 5144
- Opening hours:
- Mon, Wed–Sun: 1:30 pm – 7:00 pm
- Closed Tuesday
🌯 María Bonita Veganos — Food Cart
María Bonita Veganos is a beloved vegan street-food stall in Roma Norte, celebrated for its hearty, affordable, and deeply flavourful food. The menu is a highlight reel of Mexican street classics — massive burritos, tortas (particularly the crispy milanesa torta, a firm favourite), gringas, tacos, hamburgers, and hot dogs, all made with alt-meat substitutes. Daily rotating lunch specials offer a soup, main, salad, and drink at very reasonable prices. The portions are generous, the staff are friendly, and there is a small counter where you can eat on the spot, or you can take your food to nearby Plaza Río de Janeiro.
- Location: Calle Durango 65, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700 CDMX
- Website: Instagram: @mariabonita.veganos (no standalone website)
- Phone: +52 55 8863 5880
- Opening hours:
- Daily: 12:00 pm – 6:00 pm (hours may vary — check Instagram for upd
Where to stay in Mexico City
1. City Centro Cuidad de Mexico
City Centro by Marriott Ciudad de México sits in the historic heart of Mexico City, on Republica de Uruguay in the Centro district. The building has real heritage credentials — it was designed by the Mariscal brothers, the same architects behind the Palacio de Bellas Artes, and the original ceilings, floors and one of the city’s oldest lifts are still in place. The hotel has 44 rooms, an outdoor rooftop pool, a gym, a restaurant and a bar. Madero Street and the Torre Latinoamericana are a short walk away, and Benito Juárez International Airport is around ten minutes by car. It is a solid, characterful mid-range option for travellers who want to be close to the main sights without staying in a bland business hotel.
2. Hotel Villa Condesa
Hotel Villa Condesa is a small boutique hotel with 15 rooms, set in a converted mansion in Roma Norte, one of Mexico City’s most liveable neighbourhoods. The area is walkable, lined with tree-shaded streets, independent restaurants and cafés, and is well connected by metro. Rooms are individually decorated with classic touches — wooden floors, sash windows — and the better ones include balconies overlooking the interior courtyard. Breakfast is included and well regarded by guests. There is an on-site restaurant serving Mexican and international dishes, a rooftop terrace, a garden, and bike rental for those who want to explore the city under their own steam. Staff consistently receive strong reviews for being attentive and helpful. Chapultepec Park and Paseo de la Reforma are both within easy reach on foot.
3. Hotel MX Roma
Hotel MX Roma sits on Calle Mérida 81 in Roma Norte, one of Mexico City’s most appealing neighbourhoods for eating, drinking, and general wandering. Part of the Wyndham Trademark Collection, it is a four-star, smoke-free property with 46 air-conditioned rooms, a rooftop terrace, a gym, and a squash court. Free breakfast and Wi-Fi are included, and there is paid parking on site. The location earns consistently high marks from guests — Insurgentes metro station is a short walk away, and the restaurant Rosetta is practically on the doorstep. It is not a large or lavish hotel, but as a well-priced, well-placed base for exploring the city, it does the job reliably well..
More to Explore
