My husband and I woke up this morning and took a stroll down to Rustica, one of our favorite cafes in San Miguel.

There, among the plants and trees and tinkling fountain, I thought about how lucky we are that we can amble along and that we have such a lovely place to do it.

Not everyone can do so.

Almost everyone can walk. Some plod or trudge along, some power walk, others move quickly forward with long purposeful strides.

Many are doing it to get somewhere.

Walking is a necessity for some, they have no other way of getting around. Bus routes don’t work in their neighborhood, or along the route they need to take. The timetables don’t coincide with what they need to do. A car has broken down or is non-existent in the first place; for whatever reason. Continue Reading…

It is five-thirty in the afternoon.

Glenn and I just got home from a walk we started after my Wednesday writer’s group.

We didn’t really have a set path to follow. We just entered town and walked.

At the outset, I was tired, hot, and slightly annoyed. But I knew we needed the exercise. And I needed to spend some time with my husband. We are both trying to lose a bit of weight. Walking is necessary.

We followed tiny roads near the top of town down to Cinco de Mayo, then came along Salida Celaya back towards Centro.

At home, we had broken a few glasses. Typical clear, heavy Mexican ones. And we needed to replace them but were in no hurry to. We would find some eventually.

So we meandered. Continue Reading…

Oh, my god!! It’s the bells!

At first, I was oblivious to the sound until it went on for a bit. Then the significance stopped me in my tracks, brought me out to the terrace, and with tears in my eyes I raised my iPhone to record.

Maybe it seems like a small thing. Churches and their bells are synonymous with Mexico.

To us, they ring in weddings, festivals, religious holidays, and note the passage of time.

But I hadn’t heard them like this in San Miguel since the start of COVID-19. Continue Reading…