13th Sept. 2016
The first worrying sign of the day was when the alarm went off at 7am. As sunrise is at a relatively civilised 7:30, we had planned to get up early(ish) to do some early morning photography before the sunlight became too harsh. (i.e. doing what photographers are supposed to do!) Janet had felt queasy last night and after a poor nights sleep she showed even less enthusiasm than usual and just wanted to get more sleep.
I felt fine and so got up and dressed – only to find that the hotel was all locked up and there was no way out. Hmm! What happens in case of a fire? The only thing to do was to sit on the terrace, admire the sunrise and the view and catch up with the world. There are definitely worse ways to start the day, and little did I know that this would be one of the high-points. After the hotel opened up around 8, I was still able to get out and get some pictures in the softer morning light whilst the town was still quiet.
The next confusion was around breakfast (though this turned out to be at least partly our fault). When booking the hotel, we had seen some negative review comments around the breakfast and when we checked in we were told that serving didn’t start until 9:00. What we weren’t told was where breakfast was going to be served. When asked, we were told “la terraza” and so thought that the sun terrace on the roof was the right spot. It turns out that the receptionist meant the ground floor terrace and so food was further delayed.
It was only after breakfast that things really went downhill. Normally, I have a cast iron constitution – in the whole year we spent away before, I didn’t have any problems at all. Today was really quite painful as a set of stomach cramps set in, and I started getting slower and slower. Fortunately, San Miguel is only a small town (comparable in size if nothing else with Didcot) so nowhere is very far from the hotel. We hadn’t been out very long before I was in too much pain to continue. Whilst, Janet was far from at full speed she stayed out for longer in the interests of getting our photo quota for the day.
Around lunchtime, we try again and head out using our tried and tested technique of following our noses. After a little while, we see a sign marked ‘Mirador’ which is just too tempting, ill or not, and so we follow it (uphill!) to the viewpoint. I suspect that if we were healthier we’d have appreciated it more – it did at least offer a view of the main sights.
Back down the hill, we hunt for a café for lunch. The key criteria in our selection was that they had to have soup on the menu, and soup that is not too spicy at that. Eventually, we find a little café close by our hotel (handy, in case of emergencies!) that has carrot soup on the menu. We splash out on two bowls of soup and a single orange juice. What is definitely unheard of is me not being able to finish my soup – normally, I can easily exist on a diet of soup & porridge.
The last time I walked this slowly was on the slopes of Kilimanjaro. However, despite that, you can’t help but like San Miguel. The town feels properly Mexican rather than Spanish colonial – enhanced by the locals in their jeans and cowboy hats (though we still haven’t seen anyone in what you would think of as being a Mexican ‘sombrero’). The slightly run down look of the houses and the streets actually adds rather than detracts from the charm. The houses are predominantly in shades of yellow ochre and burnt red; the streets are cobbled and only just wide enough for two cars to pass. (There are lots of large American SUVs that struggle with the sharp turns at intersections. Even the craft shops are selling high class ‘tat’ and I start to contemplate a couple of Dia de los Muertos figures for home before Janet reminds me that I’d have to carry them!
And then there is the Parroquia – rose pink bricks and all towers and angles, with bells tucked away seemingly wherever they can be fitted in. It is as if someone got carried away with a giant Lego set. (Apparently, the original plans were drawn out with a stick in the sand.) The fact that the inside isn’t as extravagant (note relative term!) takes nothing away from the building. Opposite is El Jardin Principal, crammed with trees that have been carefully pruned so as to provide the maximum shade. Its easy to see why it is a popular place for the locals to while away the day.
Not in the shade were the runners in the San Miguel 10k (or whatever) it was. Even had I been well, I’d have thought twice about running in this heat (and altitude of around 1,700m). There was however a man with spray (possibly more annoying than cooling) and a crowd lining the street cheering their support.
In the evening, we were out early again, on the hunt for more soup. Our waiter agreed that chicken soup (caldo de pollo) was exactly the right thing for upset stomachs and this time I was at least able to finish the bowl (and a whole glass of orange juice!). We then slowly plodded back to the hotel for an early night and hoped that we’d both feel better in the morning. Even though we were in slow mode today, we still managed to take 60-odd pictures and are gradually seeing the major sights in the town.