So we all made it on the flight to Leon. Small plane, not sure how many hours in the air but not too bad. I stand outside, already realizing that I should’ve thought “Aussie” clothes vs San Diego clothes, because it is really humid. Everyone makes it through customs without incident and we pile our luggage and our stuff into two vans for the ride to San Miguel — windy roads for about 1½ hours.
The countryside reminds me of Morocco, and the old buildings with hand-painted signs are picturesque. Two horses stand in a field with two cranes. Someone mentioned the cranes are probably eating the flies off the horses. It was cool to see. Dogs everywhere, smiling at us as we pass. We arrive at San Miguel and see a giant bridge, with a large bronze statue of de Allende. We can see the cathedral — not the main one, but the other one. I ask the guide what they grow in the area and he thinks it’s alfalfa; water is a problem, he says. We pass through a small town and see the sign to Antonitico. We turn in the opposite direction.
Through narrow colorful buildings with amazing carved doors and iron work. We stop in front of a wall with a door and doorbell, and the drivers begin unloading our luggage. The doors open and we are in the first of three outdoor rooms divided by gates. Some of us are staying here.
I’ve lost all track of time — and my iPhone, by the way. I’ve spent the days making art mosaics, painting, making books, shopping, eating, talking. We went to visit an artist’s home…. I’ve bought rattlesnake-rattle-and-turquoise earrings [pictured], and a beautiful tied-stone necklace from Anato. We followed the procession on Palm Sunday through the streets of San Miguel…. It’s been hot and humid, and I gave up wearing makeup after the first day. Most of us did. Pretty amazing group of women — for the most part getting along, although most of us are pretty outspoken and a little bit cranky at some time of the day. Today is the last day and I feel like most of it has been in a fog. Maybe it’s the excess of Margaritas, salt, and guacamole. It is the last full day; tomorrow, it’s back to the airport, and I’ll be home with my dogs by tomorrow night.
Really meant to keep up with this, but the minutes turned into hours turned into days turned into Margaritas or art workshops or eating or shopping, and here I am for the first time, sitting still for an hour or so on the last of the battery.
We had dinner last night at Casa Luna, and we did a flash mob dance in the dark and candlelight to live Mariachis: “La Bamba.” We looked like a bunch of witches in the dark at Mi Casa in the Art Allende Building. The view of the cathedral lit up was spectacular! One of the San Diego artist guys, Joseph, is a hyponotherapist and also does past-life regressions. I was going to do it ($100 U.S. for 2½ hours), but my rattlesnake earrings took a bit of my spare change. But one woman did do it, and said it was wonderful and interesting.
Our breakfasts at Casa Luna were different each day — always fruit and cereal and bread, tortillas and good coffee, fresh squeezed OJ. Entrées varied from pancakes, to stratas, to spinach quiche, to scrambled eggs, to chilequiles and beans with cheese. The lunch at Diane’s rancho was as grand as the residence — cucumber mint tea, gazpacho, black bean chili, great bread, salad greens with nopalito salad, freshly made beet chips, flan, lemon bars, brownies. [But] the group has renamed Montezuma’s Revenge to Tres Leches Spa because of a cake that was served at dinner to some of us last night.
So we all made it on the flight to Leon. Small plane, not sure how many hours in the air but not too bad. I stand outside, already realizing that I should’ve thought “Aussie” clothes vs San Diego clothes, because it is really humid. Everyone makes it through customs without incident and we pile our luggage and our stuff into two vans for the ride to San Miguel — windy roads for about 1½ hours.
The countryside reminds me of Morocco, and the old buildings with hand-painted signs are picturesque. Two horses stand in a field with two cranes. Someone mentioned the cranes are probably eating the flies off the horses. It was cool to see. Dogs everywhere, smiling at us as we pass. We arrive at San Miguel and see a giant bridge, with a large bronze statue of de Allende. We can see the cathedral — not the main one, but the other one. I ask the guide what they grow in the area and he thinks it’s alfalfa; water is a problem, he says. We pass through a small town and see the sign to Antonitico. We turn in the opposite direction.
Through narrow colorful buildings with amazing carved doors and iron work. We stop in front of a wall with a door and doorbell, and the drivers begin unloading our luggage. The doors open and we are in the first of three outdoor rooms divided by gates. Some of us are staying here.
I’ve lost all track of time — and my iPhone, by the way. I’ve spent the days making art mosaics, painting, making books, shopping, eating, talking. We went to visit an artist’s home…. I’ve bought rattlesnake-rattle-and-turquoise earrings [pictured], and a beautiful tied-stone necklace from Anato. We followed the procession on Palm Sunday through the streets of San Miguel…. It’s been hot and humid, and I gave up wearing makeup after the first day. Most of us did. Pretty amazing group of women — for the most part getting along, although most of us are pretty outspoken and a little bit cranky at some time of the day. Today is the last day and I feel like most of it has been in a fog. Maybe it’s the excess of Margaritas, salt, and guacamole. It is the last full day; tomorrow, it’s back to the airport, and I’ll be home with my dogs by tomorrow night.
Really meant to keep up with this, but the minutes turned into hours turned into days turned into Margaritas or art workshops or eating or shopping, and here I am for the first time, sitting still for an hour or so on the last of the battery.
We had dinner last night at Casa Luna, and we did a flash mob dance in the dark and candlelight to live Mariachis: “La Bamba.” We looked like a bunch of witches in the dark at Mi Casa in the Art Allende Building. The view of the cathedral lit up was spectacular! One of the San Diego artist guys, Joseph, is a hyponotherapist and also does past-life regressions. I was going to do it ($100 U.S. for 2½ hours), but my rattlesnake earrings took a bit of my spare change. But one woman did do it, and said it was wonderful and interesting.
Our breakfasts at Casa Luna were different each day — always fruit and cereal and bread, tortillas and good coffee, fresh squeezed OJ. Entrées varied from pancakes, to stratas, to spinach quiche, to scrambled eggs, to chilequiles and beans with cheese. The lunch at Diane’s rancho was as grand as the residence — cucumber mint tea, gazpacho, black bean chili, great bread, salad greens with nopalito salad, freshly made beet chips, flan, lemon bars, brownies. [But] the group has renamed Montezuma’s Revenge to Tres Leches Spa because of a cake that was served at dinner to some of us last night.