Time to go. Back to the States for a few weeks, leaving the bus behind. The kids made a bunch of new friends that they got to play with for a few days while we tore the bus apart, fixed a few things, and cleaned every inch. We left it in such a state that it’ll be a pleasure to return to.

The last step was to pack in the surf boards and a bike, throw a red tarp over the front half of the bus, and lock the door.

An hour later we were in DF (Mexico City) with a few days to explore again before hitting the airport.

Dinner on the street. Pick a meat—tacos are six pesos each.

The Blue House, Casa Azul, or just plain Frida’s—that’s where we went today. The house that Frida Kahlo grew up in, and died in, is now a nice museum housing a bunch of her work, photos, art supplies, and original furnishings. Frida is an amazingly interesting person, and hugely revered in Mexico, so it was nice to take the kids here—especially Ouest—and teach her a bit more about this strong, and very unique, woman that we see all over the place to this day.

A torta de tamal stand. Throw a tamale inside a soft bread roll and go into carb overload.

We stumbled across the Panteón de San Fernando on the way to the Metro station—very cool to see many of the 1800s most famous men buried here. The names of so many of them are now street names in just about every Mexican town—Bustamante, Benito Juarez, Zaragoza, Vicente Guerrero, are just a few.

Casa Azul.

Frida and Diego.

Walking down the street to the Leon Trotsky museum it seemed there was only VWs lining the sidewalks. The Trotsky museum was nothing special, though it was cool to see the house left largely untouched since he was murdered inside with an ice axe seventy-five years ago.

Coyoacán—a Mexico City borough—was a nice surprise with a huge plaza filled with people and surrounded by restaurants and ice cream shops.