The Blue House

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Morning breakfast is served in an open terrace on the 6th floor of this hotel. We've been privileged to enjoy two breakfasts there during our short stay. Here is Carol taking in the scenery this morning ...

Fueled by the fine Mexican fare we left to visit The Blue House, a museum and former home of famous Mexican artist Frida Kahlo who died in 1954. We arrived to find long lines of people trailing around the building, waiting to enter. A man told us the expected wait was 90 minutes. The sun was bright and assertively warm. The prospect of standing 90 minutes in it stirred scant enthusiasm in us at the tail end of that line.

The above photo gives just a little idea of the The Blue House's popularity.

Carol suggested I go to the entrance and try to find out what we were really in for. This turned out to be the most brilliant suggestion she has made on this trip so far. At the gate a young lady wearing an important looking badge guarded the entrance. I asked if there was a senior discount. Not only was the answer yes, the discount was 90% for those over 60. No problem. Well, it is a bit of a problem but not in this context.

She asked how many were with me. I replied it was only me and my dear wife. She said, "Please get your wife and come back and I will usher you in right away." So there we were, suddenly in The Blue House taking in the decor, viewing the many paintings, and snapping photos - a few of which follow ...


 

 The life story of Frida is not a happy one so I will leave to the curious to google the details if so desired.

Not a well person she often painted seated here.

     
A fellow tourist kindly offered to photograph us in the back garden, because I was making such an awkward hash of trying to take a double selfie. My orange badge designates me as a visitor with photography rights.

     
The above photos show samples of decorative figures embellishing the house. I include the snake since I have a friend who owns a live one for a pet. The one above would likely endure better under my care.

On the return trip we passed a large church. This is hardly surprising in Mexico City. Mark Twain once said of Montreal that you can't throw a stone there without breaking a church window. More so here. But it gave me the opportunity to photograph what I'll call a sculpture of the Apostle Peter reading the Bible ...

Is it really supposed to be Peter? Well, he's carrying the well-known keys. So that must be the Bible he's reading, even a codex version of it! So there is yet another advantage of the book format: Reading a scroll would require both hands obliging him to drop the keys.

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