Guanajuato, January 14, 2024

Here we sit, the three of us, at the Guanajuato central bus station.  What a fun two days it’s been, wandering around this stunning little city with pastel-coloured houses perched on the hills.  So many tiny shops and cafes, churches and museums, many of them restored mansions of silver merchants.  The university dominates the skyline and as the next semester approaches, the students parade about each evening, singing and asking for money for tuition fees, apparently a time-honoured tradition here.

The weather is certainly cooler than in Puerto Vallarta and less humid, too; still, we are comfortable in capris and t-shirts, light jackets and running shoes.  It’s been cloudy a fair bit but when the sun breaks through, it can be quite warm, indeed.

On our first morning, we climbed the steps zigzagging up the side of the mountain to the mirador (viewpoint).  What a party up there!  Plenty of open-air cafes and trinket markets.  The churro-seller was running a brisk business, most everyone seemed to be chewing on sugary-dough. 

This morning we went to the Diego Rivera Casa Museum and trudged through the many rooms filled with period furniture.  The upper floors were devoted to his sketches and paintings as well as those from some of his contemporaries.  My favourites are Rivera’s images of indigenous girls carrying bunches of calla lillies.

As we prepare to depart, I reflect on our taxi ride into Guanajuato from Leon airport.  We drove through tunnel after tunnel, stalled at times due to heavy traffic.  When we finally arrived at the historic centre, our driver circled round and round the one-way streets, trying to find the narrow street where our hotel (Meson de Cuevo) stood.  At numerous points I wondered if I ought to suggest that we simply get out with our bags and walk to a hotel, any hotel.  I’m glad we persevered … not only did we love our intimate historic place, but we also got a detailed tour of the town.

It’s funny, though, when we arrived and Buddy the Proprietor led me to my single room, we passed through the restaurant and down a flight of steps into the basement, past three nice wooden doors … and much to my dread, Buddy took a key out and opened the tiny black door.  All the while I was thinking “Don’t let him take me there, don’t let him take me there”.  Sure enough, it was there.

Our fave restaurant was Black Mamba (which Mary Ann referred to as Black Mamma) where we dined on craft cocktails, juicy prawns, brussel sprouts, and pappas bravas, the savoury juices soaked up by crusty bread.

We loved Consuelado, too, a bar with character where we sucked back fruity and boozy Paloma cocktails and played cards, using the pack that Buddy the Waiter (he looked as old as the Bar, itself) provided to us.  I don’t know if you’ve ever played with a Mexican deck of cards but they are quite different from our’s.  Try to keep things straight after a drink or two (:

We will miss the spirited town of Guanajuato, with its many small plazas full of ancient trees and art installations.  

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Just Outside the El Rosario Monarch Biosphere

January 15, 2024

Yesterday, our deluxe bus pulled into the huge central bus station, depositing us just outside the Morelia city, population over 1 million.  We grabbed a cab to the sweet little hotel in the historic centre that I’d chosen from Booking.com … but upon arrival, we were told (rather gleefully) by Buddy at Reception that they were ‘completo’.  

Buddy directed us to another similar hotel a 5-minute-walk away.  As we trudged over there with our bags, conditions deteriorated rapidly.  The street litter grew as we approached our destination and the corner was frequented by three wearily-looking prostitutes.  Oh yes, there was our new hotel, right next to the porn theatre.  

Now, I’ve stayed in some pretty dingy places in my youth and this place was right up there!  My room was  dark and dank with cheap, chipped furniture, dominated by a double bed with sheets of some weird nylon material.  I could tell right away this would be a two sleeping pill night …

Fortunately, our dinner of chicken enchiladas was tasty and my lime mescal margarita was the best ever!  The wine was nice, too.  Between the liquor and the sleeping pills, I managed to drift off mercifully quickly.  

This morning, we made our way back to the gargantuan bus depot and caught our 4-hour bus to Zitacuaro.  Our bus was not so deluxe but comfortable enough and practically empty.  As soon as I installed myself into a seat and arranged my things, this man got on and sat down right in front of me and reclined his seat.  Really??!?

I watched out the window as the landscape changed from suburbs to countryside to mountains, all the while passing through little villages busy with commerce.  Checking google maps, we decided to hop out at San Felipe, about a half-hour prior to Zitacuaro, and catch a van almost immediately heading to Ocampo.  

Finally, the third leg of our journey was in yet another “combi” van, where we rode along with giggling tweens in school uniforms and some folks lugging their grocery shopping and small children up further into the mountains of Michoacan.  With many smiles and cheery calls of “Adios”, we jumped out at Rancho Cumbra Monarca where we will stay for the next two nights while we hike into the biosphere to see the wintering monarch butterflies.

The Mountains of Michoacan

January 16, 2024

What a highlight this part of the trip has been!  The Rancho has been the ideal base for our butterfly excursion:  the grounds are green with plenty of spots to sit in the sun; the restaurant serves tasty and cheap authentic fare; and, our room has a table right in front of a fireplace where we can play cards (“Oh  Hell”).  The fire was, indeed, very welcome given the cold nights here, as were the four heavy blankets on our beds!

Thanks to the information from some gringas staying at our Rancho, we were able to formulate the perfect little trip.  We hired a taxi to take us up through winding highway through the Transvolcanic mountains, oohing and awwing at the trees of fir and pine trees, with glimpses of the valleys below … though the town of Anglangueo and to the parking lot of Sierra Chincua sanctuary.  There, we hired a guide to take us up the path to see where the colony of monarchs had chosen to spend their winter.

Within about an hour and a half, we arrived at the site.  The gentle climb had been mostly in shade and we saw nary a butterfly; however, at the designated spot, we could see the tree trunks covered in brown nests of butterflies.  And when sun emerged from the clouds, the air became thick with butterflies in flight, dancing to and fro, descending to milkweed plants to feed.  What delicate and exotic creatures, about the size of a human hand, their wings orange dotted with black.  

San Miguel de Allende

January 20, 2024