Journey to San Miguel de Allende

In my last post I mentioned how it felt like Pedro’s different siblings were competing to spoil us. Jose did the most impressive thing: he organized a whole tour day on September 3rd with a private van and driver. We filled the van with the Rivera Ortega family. It was super cool.

Our van took the scenic route north and east out of Guanajuato, up to Dolores Hidalgo, then south again to San Miguel de Allende. We wound through the mountains and had some wonderful views. I did my best with photos through the windows.

Our first stop was in a lovely little town called Santa Rosa de Lima, where we had breakfast. The family all gathered at a single long table and began ordering. I was still overwhelmed and shy being with so many family members and not being able to speak Spanish. I had been studying Spanish for 18 months to get ready for this trip, and yet while I was there my mind went totally blank. *sigh* It was hard to order and not understand the questions, but with the waiter’s help I was served a delicious meal and some dreadfully sweet coffee placed in front of me. Awful. I learned to order el café sin azúcar (coffee with no sugar).

By the time we finished our meals, and got ourselves outside, the van driver was getting worried. He pressed upon us the urgency. A festival was about to begin, and if we did not get on the road immediately, we would be trapped by crowds. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was leave town before a festival could begin.

But the driver was right: the roads were getting jammed. There was no way we could complete our agenda if we stopped for a festival. So into the van we went! I soon found out there was much more wonderfulness to see that day. Our next stop was the birthplace of the Mexican War of Independence!

In the center of the town of Dolores Hidalgo we stopped to visit the Hidalgo House and Museum. Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla lived in this house when he was the Dolores parish priest. It was from here, in the early hours of September 16, 1810, that Hidalgo, Ignacio Allende, and Juan de Aldama set off to launch the uprising against colonial rule. At dawn, Hidalgo rang the church bell, addressing his parishioners from the church balcony, calling for a general uprising against the Spanish. He called: “¡Méxicanos, Viva Mexico!” Apparently the Dolores Hidalgo church bell tolls only one day a year now: 16 September.

After the museum, we were becoming weary, and one by one, people wandered out to the courtyard to sit in the shade.

I was spotted with the camera, which prompted the idea of a group photo and there were calls for everyone to gather. I handed my camera over to someone and the photo at the top of the blog was taken of our whole big happy group. Poor Pedro was caught with his eyes closed.

We then walked into the town square. There was another festival going on. It was already September, and the historic date would be soon upon the townsfolk. Celebrations were beginning all over Mexico, and decorations in every city commemorated this.

We spent a long time enjoying the beautiful central park. Everyone but me got ice cream (I was still full from breakfast).

Off we went again. This time to the central square in a very small village called Atotonilco. Although it does not make sense to me on a map, this was the actual first stop of the insurgents before they went to Guanajuato. It doesn’t make sense because it’s in the opposite direction of the city of Guanajuato, but for the spiritually emboldened, it makes perfect sense. To carry the blessing of the Virgin Guadalupe with them, Father Hidalgo y Castillo wanted to have her flag, and it was here at El Santuario de Jesús Nazareno de Atotonilco where the banner depicting the Virgin could be found.

As beautiful as it is from the outside, that is not what earned the church the status of World Heritage Site. The inside is simply covered in magnificent Mexican folk Baroque. Scenes of Jesus’ life and work, death and resurrection are shown, as well as other compelling images. It is thoughtfully designed and presented in order to tell many of the critical stories of the Bible. Luis Felipe Neri Alfaro, founder of the sanctuary, and the painter were inspired by images from the book Evangelic Historice Imagines by Jeronimo Nadal.

My research credits Antonio Martínez de Pocasangre for most of the murals, with some done by José María Barajas. While there, we were told that indigenous people were forced to paint it, and this raises questions for me. Is that a myth like the one that says slaves built the Egyptian pyramids? Because there is no way to fake artistic talent, even under threat. Or were enslaved Natives forced to do the artist’s bidding? Or did talented Natives get compensation for helping out? Or was it really all thirty years of hard work by the artist? It’s always hard to get at the real story.

It is truly magnificent. I was in awe nearly the whole time, and truly grateful that this had been on our agenda. (I found this blog post by thenotsoinnocentsabroad to be more thorough with better photos than mine, if you want to know more about this church.)

Our next stop was an art gallery outside of San Miguel de Allende. This was a sort of artist’s cooperative, where there were many galleries with all kinds of different art and antiques, all together under the same roof. Being aware that I have kept you for oh-so-very-long and I-actually-can’t-believe-you-are-still-reading-this, I’ve only selected a few images, then I’ll move on.

When we finally reached San Miguel de Allende, la familia was hungry again. We found a restaurant called Hecho en Mexico, which was packed full of customers – a sign that we were about to get a quality meal. The inside was filled with eclectic art that entertained us when we weren’t entertaining ourselves. The food was outstanding.

After dinner, we spent the final daylight hour exploring the downtown square of San Miguel de Allende. The sunset on independence day preparations gave us impressions we could carry away home with us.

I captured one last image through the windows of the van that I thought was the perfect last photo for this day if there ever was one.