SMdA: DAY ONE

One of the many spectacular views from La Vista, the room Fiber Woman and I shared, which was at the tippy top of the inn. That's an art studio behind the patio tables, where visiting instructors sometimes teach workshops.

Paint-Pouring Woman waves from her room down below us.

One of my favorite things about our inn, Casa de la Noche (beside the fact that it used to be a bordello) is that the tea kettle is always out, and there are a dozen or more cozy little corners for me to hang out with a cup of tea, while waiting for the rest of my group to drag themselves down to breakfast in the main courtyard. That first day breakfast was called something like "entomada", which turned out to be three little cheese enchiladas topped with salsa verde. Plus there were always fresh fruit platters, yogurt, and granola, to go with the day's two entree options. Yum! Afterwards we all headed to the square to meet up with one of the volunteer ex-pat guides who raise money to send dental vans out to the villages by leading architectural/historical tours around town.

Since I had heard the spiel before, I was able to focus more on the sights this time, and less on the guide.

A Very Old Pharmacy

One thing I couldn't help but notice was all the anti-Trump t-shirts and buttons being sold in the shops. Fortunately, everyone was very cordial to us, though they occasionally asked "Why? Why Trump?" Our only disturbing incident was outside one of the oldest churches, where our guide had stopped to talk to us. We kept getting splashed by a man who was washing bird poop off the sidewalk. We'd scoot away, then it would happen again. Finally we realized he was doing it on purpose, to get our attention. Once he had it, he went into a long rant that we couldn't understand at all, except for the words "Norté Americanos", which popped up frequently.

La Biblioteca -- the heart of the ex-pat community.

 Lunch was at Café Martin, just behind La Biblioteca, then it was back to our hotel for a siesta.

Café Martin

The two above were still feeling a bit jet-lagged come dinner time (though we hadn't actually changed time zones, the change in altitude can get to you) but the rest of us managed to pull ourselves together to head out on the town. Dinner was here, at La Mezcaleria -- a place specializing in unusually-flavored mescal margaritas.

Believe it or not, I tried every one they had -- as in, one sip from each of the six the other girls had. They insisted on taking this photo for proof, saying no one would believe they actually saw me drinking hard liquor.

The food was amazing.

We finished the evening off with a stroll around the square, which was fairly quiet compared to high summer.

Then it was back to our little table in the courtyard, to sip tea or a cold beer, and go over the days events.