Central Mexico by Road
This story is about the serendipity of good and bad luck when traveling.
Our good luck began on the beach in Zihuatanejo. I was in the water. I looked up to see Marie having an animated conversation with a couple at the table next to ours. It turned out they were a Mexican couple from Queretaro where we planned to visit in the following weeks with some other friends we had met during our trip to Asia.
Queretaro’s most famous landmark is the aqueduct built by the Spanish to supply water to the growing city from a mountain stream. The historic center is a UNESCO-protected city full of Spanish colonial architecture.
I mentioned our upcoming trip to them and asked for a recommendation for a hotel in the historic center of Queretaro. His generous offer of free rooms in a hotel that owed him some money surprised me, but we graciously accepted.
When we arrived after a six-hour drive a few weeks later we were delighted to have this room in the heart of the city only minutes from all the attractions, and best of all, for free. Our host’s generosity didn’t end there. He insisted on picking us up the next day for breakfast at his parent’s house. We met the entire family and had a delightful Mexican breakfast that filled our bellies and hearts with gratitude.
A curious chapter in Mexican history is the rule of Emperor Maximilian. Maximilian was a Hapsburg royal installed by Napoleon III in 1864 as emperor of Mexico in a bid by France to gain a foothold in the Americas. Never popular among Mexicans he was captured and shot by a firing squad in June 1867 in Queretaro.
After touring Queretaro for a couple of days, we drove on to San Miguel de Allende. This was during the height of the COVID19 infection, and San Miguel was under a semi-quarantine. Police had set up roadblocks into the city. No one was allowed in unless you lived there or had a hotel reservation. We were stopped and told we could not enter without a hotel reservation. I turned the car around, stopped a little farther up the road, and called a hotel in town where I was able to make a reservation. Returning to the blockade, we were now allowed to continue into town. My cell phone saved the day.
I guess you could say that was a mix of bad and good luck. The next thing was definitely bad luck.
We arrived at the hotel right in the center of town, but our rooms were not yet cleaned and ready for us. There was no baggage check room, so they asked us to set our bags down by the front desk. This was in the interior courtyard of a colonial Spanish building and quite scenic. We didn’t mind waiting while the rooms were cleaned. We sat and had a coffee in the courtyard where we could keep an eye on our bags.
While we were ogling the lovely courtyard and the plants and architecture, someone came in surreptitiously and replaced my black backpack with a similar backpack stealing my clothes, and worse, my passport. Bad luck!
In the good luck column, there is a US Consulate in San Miguel, and I was able to replace my passport fairly easily. At the time I was writing for International Living Magazine. I threatened the hotel with a negative article until they agreed to pay for replacing the stolen items and the passport. They also gave us a significantly reduced price on the room. The batik shirt I bought in Malaysia and the cap from Vietnam were impossible to replace.
San Miguel is one of my favorite places in Mexico. I have always said it would be perfect if it had a beach. Getting the photos and all the information to replace my passport was a time-consuming task and was seriously eating into the pleasure of visiting San Miguel de Allende. As a result, we were on the road again after taking a quick city tour, eating at a couple of my favorite restaurants in town, and spending two nights there.
Taking back roads again instead of the turnpike we headed towards Guanajuato (for a more detailed account of this magical city see my story here:
Before arriving in Guanajuato we had the good fortune to spot a sign by the road directing us to a small artisanal microbrewery. It was just before noon and the brewery was not yet open for business, but we were lucky enough to meet the head brewer who gave us a tour and a taste of the variety of beers they produced.
This was surely good luck! After tasting everything from their stout to red ale, IPA, and a special pumpkin-flavored beer (it was in November, pumpkin season), we were on the road again.
The road to Guanajuato passes through the town of Dolores Hidalgo. We stopped there to view the church where Father Miguel Hidalgo made his impassioned speech, setting off the conflict resulting in Mexico’s independence from Spain in 1810. We tasted tequila-flavored ice cream and traveled on.
Arriving in Guanajuato, I managed to scrape the car's door against a wall in one of the incredibly narrow streets all over the city. Luckily, the insurance covered it. Guanajuato is not a driving city. We parked the car for the duration of the stay there.
Guanajuato is a fascinating city. It is the state capital. It is unlike any other city I know in Mexico. You will find mummies, troubadours, fine restaurants, tunnels, museums, and rich history. No visit to Central Mexico would be complete without a stop in Guanajuato. Again, I would refer you to the story referenced above for a more complete account of this magical city.
A three-hour drive over modern toll roads took us to Patzcuaro in the state of Michoacan. By this time we had spent nine days on the road. I had been doing all the driving and tour guiding since none of the rest of the group had ever been to the places we visited. I was beginning to feel a little tired of that role and perhaps more than a little irritated by the company of our guests. Familiarity breeds contempt they say. Maybe that was it.
It erupted in a heated exchange of words over a perceived insult at breakfast the second day in Patzcuaro. Marie and I had decided to change the plan for the day to include something neither of us had done before. We wanted to drive around the lake visiting the small towns and artisans in each instead of taking the boat ride to the island in the lake. I was strongly accused of being wishy-washy and he refused to apologize. We nearly came to blows over this minor incident.
We did the tour around the lake, but the tension in the car was palpable. Luckily, Zihuatanejo, home, was only another four-hour drive away.
The ten-day tour driving through Central Mexico was a memorable road trip.