Not that long ago, an artist friend implored, “Stacia, you must go to San Miguel de Allende. You belong there.” She described a magical, cobblestone village of artists and writers located high in the mountains of the Mexican heartland, where time has stood still. No large hotels. No traffic lights. No crime. No humidity. It was the “no humidity” that sold me.
As my tour bus started slowly rolling down, down, down the narrow streets leading to San Miguel’s center, my heart soared up, up, up. My friend was right. Mexico’s charming artist colony was truly magico with pink steeples lost in the clouds, purple mountains, colonial architecture, and lush vegetation. This is where Frida Khalo held her “salons,” Jack Kerouac drank his last tequila, and condos are now spreading like crabgrass to accommodate thousands of American retirees.
My love affair with San Miguel started where most local romances begin, at the Jardin, a public park nestled between the Parroquia, an 18th-century pseudo-gothic church that resembles Fantasyland, and the San Miguel Tourism Office. By day, the park is a well-shaded meeting place for locals, tourists, and American ex-pats. By night, the entire town congregates in the park to listen to strolling mariachis, indulge children with balloons, and to conduct courtships in the traditional Mexican style. In the cool shade of the arcade running along the side of the Jardin, Indian women squat on the ground making colorful flower arrangements in baskets.
Just steps away, the ubiquitous Starbucks lays claim to a prime corner location. I don’t know what Juan Valdez has to say about this, but I think the coffee tastes better at just about any Mexican café. My favorite was El Petite Four, an adorable French pastry shop-café-lunch spot a block-and-a-half from the Jardin. A glass wall is all that separates patrons from the kitchen where flour and water are turned into swan-shaped puff pastry and other delicacies. I had a mozzarella, tomato, and basil sandwich on a baguette for thirty-five pesos ($3.50) and walked away with a raspberry-almond crème tart that rivaled those from the best Parisian patisserie.
Here’s the deal. If you are crazy about Mexican food, San Miguel de Allende has cafes, upscale restaurants, and street vendors dishing up regional specialties on every block. Los Milagros serves up traditional Mexican cuisine with a folkloric atmosphere and live music at night. You’ll want to try chunks of the roasted corn with chiles and lime sold in the Market. But, if you are like me, and want to take a break from the chilies and beans, San Miguel also offers outstanding international cuisine. For Italian food, go to Bella Italia. Want a burger and fries? Head for Harry’s New Orleans Café & Oyster Bar. Need a bagel with a schmear? Just ask where the closest bagel shop is. There’s more than one.
Named by Condé Nast Traveler as one of the Top Ten destinations in the world, and taking first place for “ambience and friendliness,” San Miguel is a shopaholic’s dream. Whether you crave luxury leathers, silver jewelry, hand-painted ceramics, original paintings or folkloric crafts, the diversity and quality is unlimited. Pick up a free Walking and Shopping Guide at the Tourism Office. While you’re there, ask for the free bi-monthly guidebook Inside/San Miguel. Start with the Market Place where vendors sell fresh produce, roasted corn, ceramics, hand-embroidered table linens, and inexpensive jewelry. Be aware that some so-called local crafts might be manufactured in Nepal or China. Best buys are hand-stitched table linens, crocheted jewelry, and ceramics. >>>
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