Moving on Down That Highway

OK...Where were we...Ah, yes!  At Cecilia's ranch basking in the glow of Bill's speech, fine wine and a marvelous dinner.  The next morning, fortified by a breakfast totaling thousands of calories, we waddled to the car and set off for San Miguel de Allende.  En route, Luzma suggested a detour to Atotonilco, a tiny village which exists solely because of the Virgin of Guadalupe-- she crops up a lot in conversation doesn't she?  Anyway, as you may remember, Father Hidalgo stopped by on the way to Guanajuato and picked up the standard of the Virgin (see photo-- it's a replica) which he used to rally the troops.  The Virgin is very beloved by the people and there is an annual pilgrimage that attracts tens of thousands of people -- and provides the only infusion of capital that this town ever sees.  I am hard to impress vis a vis churches and tend to get bored easily but this one was really spectacular.  The priest who built it had big bucks in the family and it shows.  It was recently renovated and they did an impressive job.  In the "back room", maybe a vestry, I'm a little weak on this stuff, they had giant statues of the apostles circling the room.  Strangely, someone stole an apostle.  Gone. One empty space.  It is not to our credit that Stanley, Luzma and I were unable to pin down who was missing.  Ex-seminarian boy, Michael, walked in, casually surveyed the group and stated Luke authoritatively.  Well, we all have our strengths...

Altar of the church in Atotonilco

Virgin of Guadalupe

Staues in the vestry --- missing Luke was to the right of the photo

Once more in daylight, squinting across the blazing street, we saw a line of stalls offering what looked like interesting merchandise.  Hanging in abundance were braided lengths of rope (about 6 feet) which divided about halfway down into three strands with knots tied at intervals.  Intrigued, Luzma inquired as to what they were.  Turns out they are used for self-flagellation which appears to be an integral part of the pilgrimage.  Not only that, they come in junior sizes for those children wishing to take part.  At first I was pretty freaked out, but upon closer inspection it would be pretty hard to really hurt yourself with one of these.  Not like those ones they use in some other places that are imbedded with rocks or shards of sharp stuff.  I'm practicing celebrating our diversity.

Back in the car and back on the road to San Miguel de Allende.  As you probably know San Miguel is tres, tres, tres artsy.  Tres.  Gringos discovered it back in the 70s, bought up a huge amount of real estate, all the oils, pastels and watercolors in the universe, and installed themselves as artists in residence.   A lot of Texans also moved there.  We won't get into the effect of Texans on the self-effacing, loath to offend, endlessly polite Mexicans.  Let's just say that the Texans should be grateful for Mexican forbearance.  But back to the artists.

San Miguel's first industry was textiles.  A very large mill was built and stayed in production for about one hundred years and then went idle.  After the onslaught of the artists, this space has been renovated and turned into an extensive series of galleries and shops offering everything from unique fabrics to all forms of visual art (heavy on the abstract) and ceramics.  We wandered the area for probably two hours and did not see it all.  A nice change from all the history and churches.

Renewed we headed into the center of town which is very attractive.  Still hilly, but no Guanajuato.  Of the three towns we went to, I think we all agreed that San Miguel came in third -- but it was pretty stiff competition.  We walked the streets and then had lunch.  Now I never bore people with my menu selections but this is tied directly to the theme of Mexican Independence.  In September, throughout Mexico (I think), they make a dish called Chiles en Nogada which, either through design or happenstance, mirrors the colors of the Mexican Flag.  So, you start with a poblano pepper cut in half, stuff it with ground beef and some really tasty seasonings, cover it with a cream sauce and sprinkle it with red pomegranate seeds.  This dish would take our American stuffed green pepper, tie it in a knot, throw it to the ground and beat the life out of it.  It is delicious!  Delicious, I tell you!  Find the recipe.  Make it now.

Government building in San Miguel decorated for Independence Day

Starbucks has even made it to San Miguel de Allende

San Miguel de Allende street

Once more we waddled to the car and decided it was time to retreat to the welcoming arms of the ranch.  While the guys rested and recuperated, Luzma, Cecilia and I decided on a foray to The Lavender Project.  Founded with a grant by some organization based in Holland, local farmers are now cultivating lavender and turning it into soap and other products.  It's very hard for the farmers to find profitable crops when they have to compete with agribusiness (and the Chinese) but lavender offers hope.  The land out there is beautiful (kind of high meadow) and as we drove up one of the co-op leaders was leaving on his wooden cart pulled by his pregnant donkey.  It was that time of day when the sun is lowering and everything seems to pop and has a luminescence different than at any other hour.  He turned around and came to greet us and show us his lavender.  I snapped up four plants and he presented me with soap and a sheaf of dried lavender as a gift.

Pregnant donkey pulling wooden cart

As we were leaving, Cecilia said,"I think I want to buy a horse.  Yes.  Let's go look for one."We wove through dirt roads and in and out of fields as Cecilia attempted to find the house of a man she thought had the horse she wanted.  Multiple people provided multiple directions but... in the end... the man and horse were not to be found.  We did, however, see an astounding amount of countryside.  Pretty much fun.

By the next morning, we realized that we just didn't have one more church or historical sight in us -- at least not that morning.  So, Luzma and Stanley decided that what we needed to do was go to La Grupa.  La Grupa is a spa or balneario.  Central Mexico is a very seismic area which is the good news and the bad news.  The huge Mexico City earthquake -- bad news.  Hot springs -- good news.  Nestled in acres of gardens with huge trees are the hot springs which are funneled into pools of varying sizes and configurations.  When we got there the place was almost deserted which was great.  Probably the highpoint was the grotto, although I had my misgivings at the time.  From the pool you enter a narrow tunnel that gets progressively darker (phobia #2) leading to a very dark chamber (possible phobia #4) lit only through a sky light type thing in the ceiling.  Once I realized that I wasn't going to hyperventilate or be stung, bitten or slimed upon, I gave myself up to the experience.  Kind of like an indigenous sensory deprivation chamber but more social.  On the wall is a giant shower head kind of thing that periodically provides a powerful waterfall function.  All those in attendance form a casual line around the perimeter to take their turn being inundated and then sink once more into the muscle melting warmth of the water.  Four hours later we girded our now reconstituted bodies for more on road mayhem and headed off to Queretaro.

                                          Video shot by Luzma at La Grupa

Deirdre looking fearful in the grotto

Guanajuato was named for frogs.  I'm a little unclear about this but, to someone, the landscape of Guanajuato looked like two frogs in silhouette.  You could fool me but the locals seem content with this explanation.  However, inexplicably frog likenesses are pretty much everywhere in Queretaro which wasn't named for frogs.  During our visit, one of the many plazas was filled with fiberglass frogs in various poses and costumes used as a fund raising event for local charities.  Michael was quite taken by them but I am strictly rationing his inclusion of frog photos in this post.

One of the many frogs on display in Queretaro

From a historical prospective, Queretaro is the oldest of the three cities we visited and was the base for both the conquistadors and the church.  The Franciscans ran the show here and set out on their missions to as far as Texas and California from this launch pad.  The Franciscans-- remember St. Francis and the friend of all animals thing-- were not allowed to ride on horses or donkeys.  So they WALKED on their missions.  Take a look at a map.  Preferably a topographical map.  This is impressive.  Queretaro, not to ignore our principal historical link here, was also the home of the Independence movement.  The insurgency was planned here and the Spanish Governor's wife was part of the plot.  I bet she and the Gov had an interesting conversation when the jig was up.  It was also where the Mexican Constitution was written in 70 days.

Another one of the many (approximately 45) frogs of Queretaro

Queretaro was our hands down favorite as a strolling, hanging out city.  Many, many plazas.  The cleanest city we've seen in Mexico or maybe anywhere.  Gazillion outdoor restaurants and bars.  Beautiful colonial buildings and churches.  So anyway...Luzma's daughter lives in Queretaro where she teaches school and her boyfriend Eduardo, who is an architect for a mining company (don't make me explain), was in town so we all went out to dinner.  Finally, a chance to have a cross cultural interchange in OUR direction.  Luzma selected a restaurant that she termed "American" but whoo! not just American.  Cajun!  Our little hearts thumped in our chests.  Cajun food does not abound in Mexico.   And it was really, really good.  Before you could say Louisiana, we had them throwing down oysters and dirty rice and jumbalaya and they loved it.  And we loved it.  Everybody happy.  Excellent.

7.5 mile aqueduct in Queretaro (no Pont du Gard, but impressive)

All the trees in the Plazas are meticulously trimmed

A church in Queretaro with a lot of gold leaf around the altar

After dinner, we decided to take one of those trolley tours because, frankly, walking another five miles or so to see all the sights was not within the realm of possibility.  Or interest.  So we hopped on board.  At the last moment, Stanley hopped off.  He pleaded incipient nausea at the thought of the swaying, weaving trolley entrapping him in an hour of inescapable hell.  We let him go.  We had a nice tour and three out of the five of us actually understood what the informative, Spanish speaking tour guide imparted.  We returned to find Stanley happily tucked into an outdoor bar under a large screen TV that he had somehow managed to convince the management to tune to the Democratic Convention-- not a top ratings draw in Queretaro.

While Luzma and Lisabetta returned to her apartment, Eduardo, Stanley, Michael and I got a fix of politics while salsa bands tuned up all around us for the long night of partying ahead.  When the blare of brass instruments reached a crescendo threatening to blow our brains out through our ears, we decamped, hit a liquor store and returned to the apartment to listen to Obama's acceptance speech.  It was a little surreal to sit in an apartment that could have doubled for our apartment when we were in our twenties, in a Mexican city listening to the most American of American type of speeches.

Michael securing the kayak to the Subaru

Well, the trip was drawing to a close.  The next morning we strolled the city for a while and then just one more stop was planned.  Michael's kayak had to be picked up, strapped to the Suburu and conveyed to it's new home.  I won't bore you with the details but things are never as easy as you think they'll be.



So there you have it.  It was a great trip.  We drove hundreds of miles through country and city and never once encountered any cartel problems or, in fact, any problems at all. We're already working on our next trip with Wes and Ron -- hopefully in November.  We'll keep you posted.  Take care.