Imagine you’re there, just as the city breathes its first light, long before the tourist buses even stir. The air still holds the cool dampness of the night, a silent promise of the day to come. You stand at the edge of the Mercado de San Juan, not the main entrance, but one of those side alleys where the delivery trucks first rumble in. You hear it then – not the market's roar, but a singular, almost musical *clinking* sound. It’s the sound of the first few vendors, the ones who deal in the truly exotic, carefully arranging their glass bottles of *mezcal de pechuga* or their perfectly stacked jars of *chapulines*. It’s a quiet, methodical clink, unique to these early hours, a rhythm of preparation. And then, as a subtle warmth starts to creep in, you might catch a faint, earthy aroma. Not the obvious scent of tacos or fresh fruit, but something deeper, almost ancient. It's the unique, slightly resinous smell of dried *hojas de aguacate*, used for cooking, more potent and prevalent in the cooler, drier months, a scent that speaks of tradition and an age-old connection to the land, almost imperceptible once the market truly awakens.
Then, as if a switch is flipped, the market exhales. You feel the energy shift, a palpable hum rising from the concrete. The quiet clinking gives way to a symphony of calls – "¡Pásele, güerita!" "¡Tenemos lo fresco!" – a vibrant, insistent rhythm. Your skin prickles with the sudden warmth, a mix of cooking oil, exotic spices, and the unique, sweet-sour tang of fresh offal that’s part of San Juan's character. You might brush past a vendor meticulously arranging rows of *chinicuiles*, their tiny bodies a vibrant red, or feel the cool, smooth skin of a freshly caught fish if you dare to reach out. It’s an embrace, overwhelming and exhilarating, as the market comes alive around you.
Ready to dive in? To truly soak up that atmosphere without feeling lost, aim to arrive between 9 and 10 AM. You’ll catch the tail end of the setup magic and the beginning of the market's full swing. Getting there is easy: take Metro Line 8 (green) to Salto del Agua station, then it's a short, fascinating walk through the streets of Centro Histórico. Or, if you’re closer, a quick taxi or ride-share will drop you right at the entrance. Just remember, it's a working market, so be mindful of the vendors and their space.
Once inside, let your curiosity lead you. San Juan is famous for its exotic meats – think venison, wild boar, crocodile, even lion or tiger for the adventurous. Don't be shy; point, ask questions, and if you're brave, try a taco de venado from one of the small stands inside. Beyond the meats, look for the incredible array of insects – *chapulines* (grasshoppers), *escamoles* (ant larvae), *chinicuiles* (maguey worms). These aren't just curiosities; they're culinary traditions. You'll also find a fantastic selection of dried chiles, medicinal herbs, and unique fruits you've probably never seen before. Always ask for prices before you commit.
A few final thoughts to make your visit smooth and respectful. Cash is king here, so have plenty of small denominations. While some vendors might accept cards, it’s not the norm. Bargaining isn't common for small purchases, but if you're buying in bulk, a polite inquiry might be appropriate. Always ask permission before taking photos, especially of people. A simple "Permiso para una foto?" goes a long way. Keep your belongings secure, as with any busy market. And most importantly, come with an open mind and a hungry stomach. It’s an experience for all your senses, and a true taste of Mexico City's adventurous culinary spirit.
Léa from the road
