Day trip: San Miguel de Allende

What's special about San Miguel de Allende

Parroquia de San Miguel
Arcangel's facade

Mexicans will tell you it's a "pueblo magico", a magical city/town. There are several across the country, and they're recognised for their cultural, historical or natural richness. And San Miguel de Allende doesn't disappoint. This colonial town has pretty churches, museums, and art galleries. It's also home to a Starbucks coffee joint! 

courtyard at Biblioteca Publica
Municipal Ignacio Ramirez

Brief history
San Miguel de Allende played a vital role in the war of independence from Spain, and its present name derives from Ignacio Allende, a hero of the independence movement. The centre of town retains its old world charm and facade partly due to the government's move to designate it a national monument in 1926 (it's also a UNESCO World Heritage Site). San Miguel de Allende is also home to many art colonies which were developed in the 1950s. That aside, don't be surprised if you see many Americans here. A lot of them have lived here for some time, drawn by the art colonies or while escaping a polio scare in the US after the Second World War. 

See/do

- Parroquia de San Miguel Arcangel, one of the town's main draws, its claim to fame is the pink granite used for its construction

dome of the church next to Centro
Cultural Ignacio Ramirez El Nigromante

- one of the town's many art institutes, such as Centro Cultural Ignacio Ramirez El Nigromante 

- El Mirador, for the panorama

- Museo Casa Ignacio Allende, home of the independence hero

Getting around

Walk. It's the best way to explore this little gem. :)

Getting there and away

I came across one guide (or was it Wikitravel?) which claimed San Miguel de Allende is quite challenging to reach by bus. Nothing could be further from the truth. There are regular buses from Guanajuato and connections to Mexico City and other nearby cities as well. I did my trip from Guanajuato (about 1-1.5 hours), which is probably the easiest option. 

view from the Mirador

From the bus terminal to the city centre: 

courtyard at Starbucks

Right outside the main bus terminal (Omnibus de Mexico, along Calzada de la Estacion), a minibus (ruta 1) takes you to the historic centre and drops you off outside the Pero Neri church. This is the same spot where you'll get ruta 1 to return to the bus terminal. Give it at least 30-40 minutes on the way back though. While the buses move slowly because of the cobbled streets, they may (as the one I was on did) make a long pause at one of the bus stops. I even contemplated getting off to walk the rest of the way. Note too that this minibus doesn't take you into the bus terminal per se. Sit on the left side of the bus if you can, and keep a look out for the bus terminal when you're back on Calzada de la Estacion. 

Mexico City II

an iconic image of Palacio de Bellas Artes
in Mexico City's historic centre

I'd be lying if I said the pickpocketing incident didn't shape my opinion of Mexico City in the days that followed. The very next morning, when I left for the mountain city of Guanajuato, I viewed my fellow metro commuters with suspicion: a thief could be in their midst. Simultaneously, I recognised my unwarranted paranoia. It was absurd: one pickpocket does not make an entire city dodgy. Plus, pickpockets strike in a lot of other major cities as well. Still, Mexico City made me feel a little uncomfortable. One good thing that came out of that episode though, is that it taught me to be extra vigilant (I also stopped carrying my wallet).

the remains of a day at Coyoacan, a district in Mexico City

All the same though, I felt reluctant to leave. I had met some really amazing people, including my couchsurfing hosts. One spent an entire afternoon helping me get a new phone, the other followed me to the tourist police to lodge a report. It was people like them who made it difficult to fly out. But as Sufei (my ex-uni classmate who now lives in Mexico City) pointed out, such feelings would come back to assail me every time I have to end a particular leg. And she was right.

It was then I realized something else about myself. Inasmuch as I had believed I was able to emotionally detach myself from people/situations, I have yet a long way to go.


first written on 31st October 2017

Mexico City I

More than 24 hours after I discovered my left pocket had been emptied on the metro, it was still surreal. I was already trying to make light of the incident, but I couldn't lie to myself. I was lucky though -- the pocket that my hand protected had my wallet. The keys in the other pocket were safe, and so was the phone, except it was in someone else's pocket now.

The someone I couldn't recognize. Someone who could have passed it on to someone else, and then someone else, as part of a syndicate that pickpockets unsuspecting commuters in Mexico City's dense metro network. Who was I to ask anyway? The faces I scanned at helplessly in the train stared back blankly, as if to say, 'You've finally realized what happened'.

Disbelief turned to shock, as I began to palpitate. I had to get away from the metro. Run, I told myself. But what was I running away from? Another hit? Reality? Or run towards some way of recovering what had been lost? But in a city of over 20 million, where does one begin?

By the end of the night, I had a replacement phone. I had re-established contact with people. The shock, considering it was the first time something like that had happened, had ebbed away. But I was still bothered, and I couldn't decide what was causing the unease: the loss of the phone, or my temporary loss in faith in people? What makes someone do something like this? How is stealing OK? I couldn't understand it then, I can't understand it now.

Days before the incident, a friend of mine joked that he would steal my phone, because of its camera. Maybe he should have. 

Grow on me, London

The River Thames

When I met a friend at Piccadilly Circus, one of the first things I told her was that I didn't quite fancy London. She was aghast, to say the least. London buzzes with life and energy, and there's so much to see and do. But I wasn't feeling it, maybe for this exact reason. London felt overwhelming. 

A good day to be at Hyde Park

But it is also undeniably navigable by foot. I walked everywhere, but had yet to step into a particular part of the city which would have set off a spark, that feeling of attraction and/or love for a city I'm in. When I think of Istanbul, it's the Bosphorus and its seagulls. When I think of Delhi, it's Lodhi Gardens, and in Zagreb, the Museum of Broken Relationships. In London, I'd walked through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, been wowed by the British Museum (never mind that there's really nothing British about it) -- but nothing.

the British Museum's ceiling

By the end of the day though, something changed. I was making my way back to the apartment from Piccadilly Circus. And it was there, at the pedestrian crossing during rush hour, when I looked at the darkening sky, the buildings that swallowed the sun, the double-deckered buses, and the crowd of people, that I found my spark.

first written on 30th September 2017