The only way you can tell the city exists below is because from miles away you can still feel its hum. A nasty thick black cloud, so dark in the shrinking light of dusk that you cannot see anything underneath it. It is a blanket of pollution permanently fixed over the city. To the west the sun disappears behind a dark cloud hanging over the enormous valley. The mountains in every direction are suddenly covered in brilliant green trees. You can feel the air outside get colder and colder.
On a late afternoon, nearing sunset, during the smoggiest season of the year, winter, your bus or car is climbing the mountains to the east.
You must experience Mexico City’s hugeness as a journey of distance, inch by inch, mile by mile, traffic allowing. Flying in or out conceals what you’re really dealing with. Merely landing at or departing from Benito Juárez International Airport belies the city’s physical contours, the ranges of mountains that ring its basin. You can’t really appreciate the enormity of Mexico City until you leave it on the ground.
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