One thing that most people don't know about Mexico City is that it is very high. About 7500ft. Like Kathmandu, Mexico City sits in an ancient lake basin and is surrounded on all sides by mountains. From Guadalajara to Mexico City the highway gradually ascended to about 9000 feet before descending into the city. I'm really glad I chose to ride into the city. I was nervous about it and was planning to stick to the coast in order to avoid it. On second thought, how often do you get to ride into one of the biggest cities on the planet? I started from Guadalajara extra early this morning to avoid hitting peak traffic hours in Mexico City. I stopped just outside of the city at about 1PM. I knew I was going to have to be extra sharp so I had a cup of coffee and a snack. When I jumped back on the highway it didn't take long for the traffic to thicken up, stagger to a crawl and eventually stop completely. I began to split lanes with the other motorbikes. I had to concentrate to manage Tiggrr's girth as there was little room for error and the last thing I needed was to scratch someone's car. When other motorbikes got trapped behind me, I would pull into the vehicle lane and wave them through. Their smaller bikes were more nimble and they could go much faster between the cars. Now, lane splitting is one thing but lane splitting and trying to navigate a giant unfamiliar city is another. I use a mapping app on my phone and a Garmin GPS. Generally they both agree but not always. Once in while the GPSs get creative and try to route me down a oneway street the wrong way or sends me down a narrow, unpaved alley with monstrous pot holes. I've learned the hard way that you should never trust your GPS completely. In this maze of highways intersecting in the center of Mexico City, it was sometimes difficult to determine the correct lane. I needed three eyes. Two on the road and one on the GPS. The scale of the city was something I just marveled at with highways stacked three layers high. In places I counted up to 18 lanes of traffic. I think I passed at least 1000 cars (probably double or triple that) while carefully threading my way between lanes. It took me about on hour and a half to reach my hotel in the history district. My brain was done. I went to check in and no Spanish would come out of my mouth (and I had been doing so well). Fortunately a manger stepped over to help me in English. After taking a bit of a rest and letting my nerves settle, I walked down to the Zocalo (the central square). It was quite the scene. Thousands of people packed the streets. Street vendors lined the sidewalks and performers of various stripes worked the crowd for tips. In the middle of the central square stands the banderas monumentales. A giant Mexican Flag (47 feet high by 82 feet wide flown from a 160 foot high pole) that marks the political center of this capital city. Also in the Zocolo is the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral which took over 250 years to build. I stopped into a restaurant overlooking the Zocalo and payed way too much for dinner and a cerveza but the view was worth it.