“The place that is the belly button of the moon,” the derivation of the word Mexico in the Nahuatl language.

To enjoy Mexico City you must at least have a tolerance for chaos. Find that chaos fascinating in its own right and you get a much more rounded and arresting sense of what this city is.

Take the Zocalo in the old historic centre, a plaza which I believe counts among the great urban spaces of the world. Centuries of historical drama are laid out in the architecture before you from the city’s Aztec origins, through its colonial might, and its revolutionary nationalist fervour. But make the effort to also explore the noisy, dirty, pandemonium played out on its surface and you fill out the picture with a feel for the energy that keeps the capital above water today, despite a long list of crises.

Beyond the centre it would be foolish not to visit the National Anthropology Museum, and wander through the pleasant district of Coyoacan, popping in on the Frida Kahlo and Trotsky museums. The great pyramids of Teotihuacan 30 miles north are over restored but still impressive.

But there are some unremittingly unpleasant Mexico City experiences that are difficult to avoid and have few compensatory factors. The metro is clean, cheap and efficient but covers only a fraction of the city, while the rest of the public transportation system is simply a mess. The air too can be foul, although pollution is slowly improving.

Crime is not as rampant as it is often made out to be, but caution is necessary. In particular avoid hailing taxis off the street and don’t wear expensive jewellery.