Crossing the fluid insanity that is Paseo de la Reforma outside our apartment puts you into Chapultepec park, one of our favorite places in DF. As Sylvie remarked to me on a walk up to the old French castle in its midst, Chapultepec park can absorb tens of thousands of "Chilangos" and yet you can still walk through its flower-dotted avenues without feeling the press of humanity. There are couples snuggling safe from parental gaze, children having their faces painted, kung fu students bowing before their sensei, and even bullfighters dodging wheeled facsimiles of their foes. In a city and country pitied for the brutality of its crime, the only violence in the park is in lime-green color of the lake beneath the castle, which seems so choked with algae you could walk across it.
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