Compared to every place I’ve ever been, the climate in Mexico City is as about as perfect as you could want for an urban location. Most days the high is in the upper 70s and the lows are in the mid 50s. That means, yes, no need for air conditioning, and as long as you have a big comforter, no need for heat, either.
How does it stay so mild year-round? We’re at about 7,500 feet. Elevation keeps things cool, even when (relatively) nearby places like Veracruz and Acapulco are sweltering. (This also means that huge pine trees and even larger palm trees grow right next to each other, in abundance. It’s odd.)
But, for the last few days, it’s been pretty darn cold for a city that’s well within the Tropic of Cancer, prompting an exorbitant amount of whining from residents. On Mexico City’s equivalent of the Today Show this morning, a reporter stormed into a cafe known for its hot chocolate and churros (delicious fried dough sticks) and demanded that diners discuss the cold weather. Last night, our Spanish tutor arrived wearing a winter coat, gloves and earmuffs, chirping a slew of winter weather vocabulary words for us to learn. And the cashier at the grocery store had her thick turtleneck pulled up over her nose and ears, and shivered the entire time we were checking out. She was indoors. In sum, every single person I’ve talked to in the past week has bitched about the weather.
Witnessing only the actions, words and appearances of chilangos (locals), you’d assume it was perhaps below zero outside. But, in reality, yesterday’s high/lows were:
OK, so I’ll admit, it’s cold, especially at night. But, it’s still really nothing compared to the average wind chill in New York or Minnesota, in say, February.
So, if for some apocalyptic reason, it ever really did get down to, I don’t now, 4 degrees F, I would be very curious to see what the chilangos would do — because they’ve already blanketed themselves in the type of winter gear you see in New York in the new few months.