We both woke at 2 o'clock but we didn't know which two o'clock!?! Was it 2pm in the UK which meant it was 8am?  Was it time to wake up?

No it wasn't. It was 2am here in Mexico and we just couldn't get back to sleep for love nor money. The old body clock was firmly set to Greenwich Mean Time.

Five hours later we decided to stop trying and stayed awake. 

When I popped to the bathroom I was staggered by how incredbily spacious and stunning it looked. We must have seen it last night but it hadn't registered.

Back in the bedroom I spent sometime trying to figure out how the coffee machine worked before realising it wasn't even plugged into the power, but even after I sorted that out I couldn't get it to make me a coffee. So I decided to find the common room.

I had better luck with the coffee machine there.  I have never been a fan of these coffee pods style coffee machines but this one made a pretty decent cup. I don't know if it was the machine or the coffee brand that made the difference but it tasted like a proper cup of coffee.

I carried two cups back to our room, one at a time, because I couldn't navigate the doors without a spare hand. The cup handles were so small I couldn't get a finger through them so I couldn't carry both together in one hand.

We sat up in bed where I wrote my journal whilst Julie played a game on her phone.

There wasn't a rush to get up and out this morning because breakfast was served in the restaurant downstairs and that didn't open until 9am, and not wanting to miss something we had paid for, we were happy to wait.

So at 9am precisely we made our way down to breakfast. It was a lovely sunny day so we sat outside. It felt so good to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. We've not had the weather at home to eat al fresco for over six months!

From our table we could see the Zocalo and the National Palace. It was  a great place to people watch.

We were shown a menu from which we could choose our complmentary breakfast. It wasn't very large. It was categorised into three types, the Farm, the Mexican or the Continental.

The "Mexican" was chilaquilles, with or without chicken, with red or green sauce. The "Continental" was some Danish pastries. I can't remember what was on the "Farm" option.

Then there was a choice of fruit, a selection of juices, and tea or coffee. 

I chose the chilaquiles with salsa verde, it's my all-time favourite Mexican breakfast and couldn't wait to try it again. Obviously I specifically asked for it without chicken but when it arrived it had chicken on it, shredded everywhere.

Julie spotted it first. "No, no, no chicken. He's a vegetarian" she said.  The waiter apologised and remembered me asking for it without chicken.

Whilst he took the plate away we tucked into a large plate filled with slices of orange, melon and watermelon. Also a large glass of grapefruit juice. All very fresh.

"What's the bet that they'll just pick the chicken off?" I said.

"No, they wouldn't do that!" Julie replied.

When my plate came back, that's exactly what they had done. There were still a few shreds dotted around. Back at home I would have complained but here I didn't want to kick up a fuss so I accepted my plate fate, meticulously picked off all the remaining chicken pieces that I could see and then ate it all. 

Once breakfast was over we booked an Uber taxi over to the suburb of Coyoacán. It was 10km away from the historic centre along a straight multi-laned road heading South from the Zocalo. Thankfully Mexico City's notorious traffic congestion wasn't a problem this morning. The journey took less than twenty minutes. The driver, Jose Luiz, was a very chatty man and made the journey seem even quicker.   

We were venturing out into the suburbs to visit the former house of the famous Mexican artist Frida Khalo. She was born there and died there. In fact she spent most of her life living in her family home in Coyoacán.

We arrived at a street called London (Londres) and immediately recognised La Casa Azul, the blue house trimmed with red. It wasn't difficult to miss. Even in this artistic bohemian neighbourhood it stood out.

It was also where our taxi stopped, so obviously it was the Frida Khalo museum. That's the beauty of using Uber, there's no "lost in translation" issues, you've already instructed exactly where you want to be delivered.

Further confirmation was the long queue of people waiting in line.

There was a small sign with 10:45 displayed on it. Clearly this was the queue for the time allocated entry into the museum which suggested we first needed tickets. So we went in search of the ticket booth but we didn't get that far.

At the front door there was another sign. Our hearts sank when we read that the next available time-slot was 10am, ......  Monday 26th February!

I was so disappointed and angry with myself. Visiting the Frida Khalo museum was the main reason why we came here to Mexico City. I should have researched better.  

Not knowing what to do next we began walking away from La Casa Azul. I knew of other "house" musuems in Coyoacán. Not far away was the house of Leon Trotsky, the Russian revolutionary murdered with an ice-pick here in Mexico City in 1940. Who incidentally briefly lived at La Casa Azul with Frida Khalo and her husband and fellow famous Mexican artist Diego Rivera.

A little further away was his house, Diego Rivera's, now also a museum.

Also, (I didn't know at the time but I wish I did) there was a large food market only three blocks away. We always enjoy a good local food market. 

But we couldn't shake the disappointment and in the end decided to just get a taxi straight back into the city centre to see the second main reason why we came here, Diego Rivera's mural in the Palacio Belle Artes. The one he painted in the Rockerfeller Centre New York which was torn down, so he repainted it here.

The return leg took us a little longer, the traffic going into the centre was a little heavier. Also the driver, called Arturo, spoke no English, so there was no conversation to distract us. At least the slower pace gave us more time to look out of the window and take in the daily lives of the chilangos, a nickname given to those who are from Mexico City.

The sprawling metrolpolis is home to 21 million making it the 6th most populated city  in the world!

We were dropped off outside the Palacio Bellas Artes, or the Palace of Fine Arts. Built with white marble from Carrara Italy the building itself was worthy of being called bellas artes. Its sunset coloured domes were very unique.

It took over thirty years to build. Although they weren't actively constructing it for all of  those. It should have been completed in time to celebrate Mexico's centenary celebration of its independance from Spain in 1910 but problems with its foundations in the soft soil delayed it. Then came the 1910 Mexican Revolution which lasted for ten years.  

Eventually the project was revived and completed in 1934.

We walked inside. After our eyes adjusted it was still a very dark entrance hallway. The staircase was of black marble and the walls were dark brown. All polished and shiny which rendered Julie incapable of walking properly as she reached for my arm for stability.

At the top of the staircase it opened out into this vast art deco atrium where we could see the light coming through the glass dome, from three floors up.

There was something quite wonderful about it. Whilst it was not my idea of an attractive design it had a beauty in the fact it hadn't been changed since the day it was built.

It was a 1934 time capsule.

The main part of the building was a concert hall where performances are still held but we weren't here for that, we were here for the murials on its walls.

Up on the first floor we walked around a temporary exhibition called Mexichrome. Fotografia y color de Mexico. A collection of photographs capturing the country. We politely but very quickly browsed through them all.

Only one made us stop to have a closer look. We were excited to come across an image of Frida Khalo taken in 1938. She was in a traditional dress holding an Olmec sculpture.

"At least we've seen something about her today" I said, still annoyed at not pre-booking tickets to her museum.

Up on the second floor we came to the murals. These were large pieces of art. The first one we came across was on the East wall, entitled "Catharsis" by Jose Clemente Orozco painted in 1934. Although technically it wasn't on the wall but a sheet of steel. 

It was a chaotic scene of war and depravity enveloped in flames, all burning in hell. It was fascinating.

All the way on the oppostite side, the West wall, was the mural we were here to see, "Man, Controller of the Universe" by Diego Rivera. The story behind this painting has always fascinated me. 

Rivera was comissioned by Nelson Rockerfeller to paint a mural on a wall at the Rockerfeller Centre in New York. The brief was to contrast capitalism with communism. The idea backfired as Diego Rivera, a former member of the Mexican Coummunist party did far too good of a job making the socialist path seem more attractive.

It's original title was Man at the Crossroads.

In the centre was man, in a boiler suit and wearing thick gloves, pulling a leaver, controlling the universe. In front of him was a hand holding a sphere with the image of dividing cells and recombination of atoms, the building blocks of life.

To one side was a microscope to the other a telescope. Then, stretching out from the centre, were four wing-like shapes inside which were the exploding suns and cell forms that were discovered by these visual aids.  

In April 1933 the New York World Telegram newspaper published an article calling the unfinished painting anti-capatilist propoganda. Rivera's reaction to this was to paint the image of Lenin, the former leader of the Soviet Union, unifying a diverse collection of people. Beyond that came a scene from the Russian May Day rally with red flag waving and further sense of unity and order.

It caused a lot of controversy and he was asked to remove it. He refused offering instead to paint Abraham Lincoln on the other side to balance it out.

However the other side didn't celebrate the virtues of democracy and rightousness but highlighted the disfunction of Western society where the rich drank, smoked, gambled and danced whist the poor protested and war raged on.

Rivera never got the opportunity to finish the painting. He was ordered to stop. It was originally hidden from view with a drape.

When he caught wind of the threat to destroy his work and had an assistant photograph every detail. These black and white photographs were used to repaint the mural here at the Palacio Bellas Artes. It was apparently almost identical but on a smaller scale.

Eventually the Man at the Crossroads in the Rockerfeller was plastered over and lost.

Free of the American constraints the recreated version here in Mexico continued with even more communist who's who, with Leon Trotsky, Karl Marx and Friederich Engels making a guest appearance.

In another provocative move Rivera (an aethist) painted Charles Darwin pointing to a monkey.

Then in a final act of revenge he painted the image of John D. Rockerfeller Jr. drinking with a woman in the nightclub and apparently above their heads was a dish of syphilis bacteria. 

Without a doubt, it was a masterpiece.

Having looked at every aspect of the mural we stood their for a few moments more before moving on.

The next mural that made us stop and stare was called the New Democracy by David Alfaro Siqueiros painted in 1945 and was painted to celebrate the victory over facism.

It was certainly an "in your face" image of a woman breaking free from her chains,   representing freedom, with a torch in one hand and a white flower in the other.

We overheard a tour guide say "see how he painted democracy as half woman and half man". I struggled to see the male side although perhaps was that an adam's apple?

Anyway, what was an interesting fact about the painter Siqueiros was that he was implicated in an assasination attempt on the life of Leon Trotsky! 

We moved on.

The third floor appeared to have more art but smaller pieces. It was also the location of the Museum of Architecture which sounded so boring we decided to give it a miss.

Julie held onto me for dear life as we walked down the shiny marble staircase. Her balance had abandoned her. Her cautiousness was validated moments later as a  gentleman, only a few steps ahead of us, stumbled on the last step. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes with a loud thud and a slight whimper.

He got back up on his feet fairly quickly but walked with a limp from there on in, leaning on his partner for quite some time afterwards.

We left the Palacio Bellas Artes and decided to walk towards the Zocalo. Our route took us down Avenida 5 de Mayo where we came across this attractive tiled building. It was known as La Casa de los Azulejos, or the House of Tiles.

It was also known as the Palace of the Counts of the Orizaba Valley, or Palacio de los Condes de Valle de Orizaba.

What we see today, a New Spanish Baroque palace with a stunning facade covered with beautiful blue Talvera tiles from the state of Puebla, was built in the late 18th century renovating an original 16th century palace.

We decided to have a closer look and walked inside, through an electrical store of all things. The building was now owned by Sanborns, a chain of restaurants and department stores, which explained the shop.

We continued inside where it opened out into a large courtyard filled with people busy eating.

"Shall we eat here?" asked Julie. It was almost 1pm and justifiably time for lunch. So after finding the maitre di we were given the choice of dining downstairs in the courtyard or upstairs. 

For some reason we chose upstairs which meant more marble steps to climb. However, we did get to see another mural as we walked up to the first floor. It was of Jose Celemente Orozco's earliest works, painted in 1925 and titled "Omniscience".

I'm not sure he would have been impressed that today the door in the centre of the mural now lead to the toilets.

At first we sat down at a table next to the balcony overlooking the courtyard but quickly realised that nobody knew we were there. So we went in search of someone.  

The waiting staff, who were all dressed in colourful traditional style costumes (although I can't imagine those garish colours being any region's tradition), pointed us in the direction of the maitre di for the first floor. It was more "side-of-house" than "front of house" as they were hiding in a room you wouldn't have guessed.

We were taken to a table right in the back of the dining room, with no view overlooking the courtyard. We were disappointed but we didn't make a fuss.

Somebody's great-grandmother came to serve us, handed over a QR code that linked to an Enlish on-line menu.

I struggled to find anything meat-free. The only dish I found was the same as I had for breakfast, chilaquilles. Julie went for a French Classic, Chicken Cordon Bleu, which was a strange choice to have on the menu and an even stranger choice for Julie to pick it.

Service was slow but it arrived in the end. Julie found the Cordon Bleu a little dry, overcooked perhaps, certainly not enough cheese. She also thought it looked a little anatomical but enjoyed it nonetheless.

My chilaquilles was fine. It had no chicken on it, which was a big improvement on breakfast. It also came with a small bowl of refried beans which was a nice addition.

Full and ready to move on we paid our bill at the side-of-house desk and returned to the street called Avenida 5 Mayo.

In no time we reached the enormous central square of the Zócalo, also known by it's formal but less frequently used name, Plaza de la Constitución . It was a lovely tranquil space because it was a completely car free zone.

It was perfectly square, measuring 240m x 240m, with the National Palace along the Eastern side and the Metropolitan Cathedral to the North. 

It was interesting to read that it got the name Zócalo from the Spanish word for a "socle" which is actually an English word for a short plinth used to support a column or sculpture. Originally a large column to celebrate Mexican indepedence was planned but only the plinth was built.

Today a large flag pole stood in its centre, waving what must be the largest flag we had ever seen. 

We turned our attention to the cathedral. Construction began in 1573 but it wasn't officially completed for another 240 years in 1813! It was quite impressive with two bell towers towering 67 metres on either side. The central section was covered in scaffolding which was unfortunate.

We walked beyond the cast iron gate and railings where my attention was grabbed by another church annexed next door. It was the Sagrario Metropolitan, a much smaller church, built from red brick, with a very ornate Baroque facade dripping with detail in what's known as Churrigueresque style. 

But our path lead us to the door of the cathedral.  

We continued inside to find this surprisingly understated cathedral. I suppose comparing it to the most breathtaking churches in Rome was unfair but it was a bit drab. 

It was, without question, massive. The golden altar at the end looked so far away that I decided it was too much of an effort to walk all that way. The decision meant that we missed out on seeing almost a dozen small chapels filling the flanks both to the left and the right. Perhaps in hindsight we should have at least walked to the end and back. 

Instead we entered the other church. A door connected the cathedral to the Sagrario Metropolitan. It was a much smaller church but more functional with rows of pews ready for the congregation.

It was brighter with plenty of windows bringing in natural light and white marble columns enhancing the setting. It felt instantly uplifting walking into room.

We didn't stay long, leaving the cathedral complex through a side door out onto Plaza Seminario, a small square off the main Zocalo.

At the top of this square was the entrance to Templo Mayor, the location of the main temple complex of the ancient city of Tenochtitlan, where it all began for this city, the centre of the Mexican universe.

At first we walked up to a viewing platform that overlooked the ruins but there wasn't much to see from there. Fortunately there was a scale model of what the 14th century Aztec city would have looked like. It was fascinating to imagine what lay beneath the ground here in Mexico City.

We returned to the small square and then continued down more steps to the subteranean entrance to the Templo Mayor Museum.

After paying 90 pesos each we walked around a small museum. It was interesting to learn that the city of Tenochtitlan was established in 1325 by the Emperor Tenoch, ruler of the Mexica people.

Legend has it that he acted on a prophecy that the capital city should be located where they first saw an eagle sit on top of a cactus. This was witnessed right here, which was once an island in the middle of Lake Texcoco.

When the Spanish arrived, two hundred years later, the city of Tenochtitlan had extended out over the water, built on stilts like Venice.

After a couple of minutes we were making our way back to where we entered. "Is that it?" I sighed, feeling disappointed to say the least. We then noticed a small sign pointing us in a different direction.

We walked outside, up some more steps, back to ground level, where we could once again see the whole archaelogical site. It wasn't until the late 1970s when they decided to demolish over a dozen buildings to allow for this area to be fully excavated.

To be honest there wasn't much to see in the way of distinguishable features. Apart from the carved head of a Quetzalcoatl (an Aztec feathered serpent, a dragon rattlesnake/bird) it was just a pile of stones.

However, you can't underestimated the importance of this place to the Mexican people.

We followed the path around the site until we came to the proper museum of Templo Mayor, not just the little exhibition at the entrance. Now this was more like it!

The museum had four or more floors displaying artefacts all unearthed here at Tenochtitlan.

The first thing we saw as we walked inside was this wall covered with stone carvings of skulls.  It looked like a tzompantli, a rack to display skulls, and a reminder of the practice of human sacrifice which was believed to have continued into the 16th century when the Spanish conquistadors arrived.

It's known that on the 19th December 1487 the Templo Mayor was inaugurated and as part of the celebrations at least 4,000 people were sacrificed. There are some wild estimates suggesting 80,000 had been killed over the festivities!

The centrepiece quite literally was this monolith, a large carved slab of the Aztec goddess Tlaltecuhtli, the "earth mother" deity worshiped by the Mexica as the creator of all.

It's believed the human sacrifices were often in her honour, in order for their world to continue to regenerate. 

It was a remarkable piece. Discovered at Templo Mayor in 2006 and measuring  4m x 3.6m it was one of the largest ever found. Some of the red paint was still visible, most notably the blood that poured from her mouth.

 As we moved up the floors the view looking down on Tlaltecuhtli got better and better.

We walked around in genuine wonder at all the other artefacts. The templo mayor is said to have been dedicated to both Huitzilopochtli, the god of war and also Tlaloc the god of rain and fertility. 

We reached the top floor then slowly made our way back down the otherside, rushing through the artefacts. In total we spent less than half an hour in the museum.

With hindsight we should have spent a little longer inside but I think our attention span was rapidly diminishing and we were in need of a siesta.

Back outisde we followed the path across the Templo Mayor ruins, back towards the entrance. However we left the site through a side gate which brought us out onto Plaza Seminario.

As we walked back towards the Zócalo I spotted a street food vendor and was interested in what she was serving. I went to have a closer look, and watched whilst she served someone else.  

She picked up a large (about 25cm x 10cm) oval tortilla, which had been fried crisp, and then spooned over refried beans and guacamole. Then came a sprinkling of chopped cactus pieces, sliced onion, fresh coriander, and finely grated white cheese, finishing off with a drizzle of hot chilli sauce.

It looked amazing so I ordered one. I wasn't hungry but I simply had to try it.

I think it was called Huaraches, they were definitely the right shape and size, although the crispy tortilla base was different to the images I've seen online. Whatever the name it was delicious!

I tried to eat as I walked but it wasn't the easiest thing to do. As soon as I saw a bench I sat down. Julie stood there watching me whilst I devoured my huaraches.  

She waited patiently. Eating it took some time. Despite shaking her head and raising an eyebrow I could tell she actually admired my desire to embrace the local food culture.

Once I had finished we moved on, walking alongside the National Palace down the Eastern side of the Zócalo. It's usually open to the public but we couldn't see a way in. Two rows of crash barriers had been set up along the entire length of the building. It seemed they had or were expecting a large crowd.   

It was 3pm when we returned to the hotel where we enjoyed a pleasant siesta which we so badly needed.

A few hours later we emerged ready for an evening of Lucha Libre at Mexico's finest wresting venue, Arena Mexico.  We had booked tickets for a 6:30pm pick-up near our hotel through the Viatour app.

Right on time a minibus arrived and out popped our flustered guide for the evening. We were the first and had the pick of the seats. Eventually, after trying them all, we settled in the back. She introduced herself as Ines (or something similar), handed over our tickets and then gave us a pile of wrestling masks to choose one each. They were included in the price. 

It was a difficult decision. We opted for a blue mask with a basic but classic design for Blake, because he was the youngest grandchild and a red mask with flames for Harley, because out of all of them he loves watching wrestling.

It would have only taken us 10 minutes in a taxi but we had to pick up a few more en route. Three other couples came onboard, from London, New York and Paris. We felt like the country bumpkins, the hillbillies from the mountains of Eryri.

We drove through the backstreets of the city, through less salubrious areas to say the least. It made us glad we were staying near the Zocalo. 

Along the way she tried to explain what we should expect from an evening of Luche Libre, how it is considered a real competitive sport, despite the choreography that goes into the performance. Some of the moves and holds sounded familiar like the Half Nelson. It brought back memories of watching wrestling on TV when I was a kid with wrestlers called Giant Haystack, Big Daddy, and the memory that my grandfather died watching the wrestling on The World of Sports on ITV on a Saturday afternoon.

She then read out tonight's running order. "We start with the little guys" she explained "we have Luchadors like Shockerito who is only 1.3 metres!"

"Then there are the gays" she continued "and we have the Amazonas, the womens". 

"And we finish with the big stars like Flip Gordon" she continued, explaining that many wrestlers are named after a signature move they perform, and his is to "flip".

An hour after we were picked up we arrived at Arena Mexico. A shot of tequilla was administered to get us all in the mood for an evening of grown men in spandex grappling with each other.

We couldn't park outside the arena so we had to walk a short distance towards the venue. It didn't look like much from the outside. It had a 1970s car park vibe but there was a great buzz outside with people turning up for tonight's event.  

We followed Ines inside where she drew our attention to a mural showing many of the odd potitions the wrestlers find themselves in, like the "I'm going sit on your face and fart" hold or the "I'll literally bend over backwards for you" headlock.

We entered the arena. It was a lot bigger than I expected. It could hold 16,500 people but it was nowhere near full. It may have been very early but the show had already started with the small luchadors.

We kept on walking towards the ring, all the way to the front row. We were mightily impressed, we had the best seats in the house!

It was a six man tag team competition, best 2 out of 3 falls. Ines had tried to explain the rules but it looked like a total free-for-all out there.

She also explained that there is often a good guy versus the bad guy angle to the matches. The técnicos, those who play by the rules and are technically better, against the rudos, the rule-breakers. There was certainly an element of pantomime to it!

Despite being short these little luchadores lacked nothing as they launched themselves off the ropes towards each other. It was surprisingly acrobatic and highly entertaining. Although at times it did feel like a circus act.

Tonight the team featuring the técnicos Fantasy, Galaxy & Shockercito were defeated by the rule-breaking rudos Mercurio, Minos & Pequeno Violencia.

No sooner had the first bout finished the wrestlers for the second match were introduced with great fanfare and razamataz. With loud music booming, each luchador took their turn to stand at the top of a flight of stairs with an image of themselves on big screens behind them. They would strike a pose before marching down the steps and making their entrance into the ring.

Some would carefully step into the ring, before heading for a corner and hop onto the ropes to milk the applause. Others would dramatically jump over the ropes in a show of impressive agility.

For the second match we had another six man tag team featuring luchadors  Diamond, Robin and Valiente Jr. against Dr. Karonte I, Enfermero Jr. and Sangre Imperial.

Drinks orders were taken from our seat which was wondeful. We didn't have to miss a thing. After a round of beers during the first bout, for my second round I ordered a Michelada, a beer and tomato & chilli cocktail. 

I've made one at home with plenty of tabasco sauce, which I liked. But this was different. It was basically beer in a glass with a chilli sauced rim. I don't know if this was a terrible version of the real thing or had I been fooled by the internet into drinking something ridiculous? Anyway, even this version of a Michelada was strangely addictive!

There was a great atmosphere in the arena and especially from behind us where these three young men were shouting obcenities towards the luchadors, then rolling about with laughter. Their fun was infectious.

The wrestlers could clearly here what they were saying. I'm sure even they found it funny! Two of them, Robin and teamate Diamond stopped and pointed towards the guys behind us, which encourage even more banter.

The match was again entertaining where the bad guys won.

Straight into round three, another michelada and another match. This was obviosly the one Ines had described as "the gays" as luchador exótico Dulce Gardenia minced his way down the staircase with great aplomb. He was also the first this evening not to wear a mask.

In a change to the earlier fights the teams in this round had actual team names. Los Atrapa Sueños (the dream catchers) wrestled against La Ola Negra (the black wave).

One of the Dream Catchers, Rey Cometa (King Comet), was going for the full warpaint whilst his brother Espiritu Negro also wore a native american headdress of red plumage as he strutted down the steps.

For the Black Wave, luchador Akuma also had facepaint as opposed to a mask, whereas Dark Magic did not wear a thing on his face. The third wrestler Espanto Jr. was the only one in a traditional luchador mask.

They also had a fourth member, a mascot. I don't know if it was a child or a very short person, a luchador micro estrella (micro star).

Julie and I were really getting into the wrestling, it was incredibly entertaining. The atmosphere was also getting more lively as the arena filled up.

The Dream Catchers won the match because the others were disqualified for some reason. We didn't quite follow what exactly happened but it maybe because of the mascot's involvement.

After three rounds of beer it was time for a toilet break. So we headed back out to the foyer and then walked around the until we came across the baños. Julie walked through the pink door signed mujeres whilst I went to the hombres.

Whilst I was there I noticed a sign saying "No Escupir" with an image of someone spitting!

I found it really interesting because I often spit when using public toilets. I wouldn't dream of spitting at home but in stinky dirty toilets I always have the urge to spit. I just  didn't realise other people did it!

I had to concentrate hard on not spitting. 

Back in the arena with another round of beery Micheladas we returned to our seats as the next luchadores were being introduced. Luckily we didn't have to disturb many people returning to our seats, only Ines who was sat next to Julie, on the end.

She was having a great time. Joining in with all the banter, shouting at the bad guys.  She and especially the trio behind us were as entertaining as the wrestlers!

The next match was possibly the best yet with many moments where the physical impact looked totally real and less choreographed. It's often the accusation thrown towards wrestling be it Lucha Libre or WWE in the USA. How much of it is predetermined? Do they follow a script? Have they already decided who will win tonight?

Ines summed it up when she said that those questions are not important.  "When you are here, (watching a fight) you let off steam, forget about the troubles of your day"

It was pure entertainment and they were putting on a great show. 

In this round the tag team who called themselves El Triangulo, featuring the luchadores  El Hijo del Villano III, Villano III Jr. and Zandokan Jr. beat the other three Futuro, Max Star & Neon.

Another victory for the rudos bad boys!

Next up were the Amazonas, the female wrestlers. We were honoured to have the current CMLL  World Womens Champion Stephanie Vaquer against La Catalina, the wrestler she defeated for that title.

I thought watching two women fight would be highly entertaining but it turn out to be less so. To be fair, it was just the two of them, not a tag team, so they only had themselves to generate any excitement. Also it felt as if the crowd were less inclined to shout obscenities towards them bringing the atmosphere down a little.

That said, it did seem a more genuine scrap, like one you would see outside a pub on a Friday night in the UK, as they descended into a catfight, a proper wrestle.

The longer it went the more we got into it.

I thought the match came to an end when La Catalina retired through injury to her shoulder but I later found out that bad girl Steph in the PVC straps was disqualified for something. It could have been the hair pulling or attempting to scratch eyes out

After two hours of wrestling fun we came to the last bout, the top billing, the main event.

We had a tag team of tecnicos Flip Gordon, Esfinge and Star Jr. versus a team called Los Barbaros consisting of El Barbaro Cavernario, El Terrible and Dragon Rojo Jr.. They were clearly the rudos, dressed like cavemen with beards and long hair. 

The Neanderthals were persistent rule breakers and got away with it. The crowd booed and cheered and shouted obscenities. The atmosphere was electric.

There were some spectacular aerial moves from the tecnicos. Flying off the ropes with 90+kg slamming into the opponent is going to have to hurt, choreographed or not.

At one time appeared that the referee had lost all control of the match and all six were in the ring causing chaos.

Esfinge in his golden pants had been thrown out of the ring, and lay incapacitated on the sidelines. Flip Gordon was being kicked whilst on the floor and Star Jr. had run away.

In the end Los Barbaros won, no idea how or why but it brought the evening to an end.

The wrestlers walked the perimeter having their photos taken with excited fans, one of which was our very own Ines. She was so excited to have her selfie with Star Jr. 

After that, the arena emptied quickly and we were soon out in the streets walking through the crowds on our way back to our minibus.

Directly opposite the Arena there was an "establishment" called Touch Me with what I'm convinced (through my beer goggles) were scantily clad ladies in the windows like some Wild West Whorehouse. It was very peculiar and completely unexpected.

On the way back, fuelled by the remainder of the Tequilla bottle, we got chatting to the young couple from Paris. She was called Petra and he was Samuel. We got along like a house on fire.

The London couple left the bus first, but it came as a shock when we were next. We expected to be last off as we were the first on. We were having such a good laugh with Samuel and Petra that we were disappointed to leave.

Back in our room we decided to take a selfie wearing the wrestling masks. It was a disturbing image that will never see the light of day!