Queretaro
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Querétaro was going to be my last destination in Mexico. In the frenzy of an impulse I had booked a flight to my homeland, not telling anyone I actually did. I thought it would be a splendid idea to rock up randomly at my family’s house after all this time, revealing a daughter that had changed physically and mentally. I don’t need a television show to add the necessary drama to my life.
But for now, I was in Querétaro, and I’d better scrape every experience out of there that’s hidden into it.
But for now, I was in Querétaro, and I’d better scrape every experience out of there that’s hidden into it.
I travelled via a new application I got acquainted with, Blablacar. It’s like hitchhiking for people with money… or women travelling alone, in my case. The Mexican (of course) Genero picked me up from Mexico City and offered a place in his car, my first-row seat to Mexico’s enchanting landscape. It took a bit, as along the way we got held up by two different accidents, bloody bodies scattered all over the highway. How painfully sad this reality is, Mexico’s traffic behaviour doesn’t leave much room for safety.
Ever saw one car taking over another car that’s also taking over a car already, while a fourth car is coming from the other direction, all on a two-lane road?
Right.
Ever saw one car taking over another car that’s also taking over a car already, while a fourth car is coming from the other direction, all on a two-lane road?
Right.
Couchsurfer Lauris was already on her way to pick me up, lighting up the street with her warm smile once she opened the car door. Her house was not in the city centre, but in the ever increasing suburbs, or gated communities. And in those communities they don’t screw around with safety issues. First you have to pass a roadblock of cops, then you are allowed to drive to your gated block, only to be opened with a special remote and as well guarded by a police officer. Once in, you can enter your house: all windows and doors protected with bars. Marvellous guy who can rob those houses, I’ll offer him a job straight away.
Once locked in we took off again, as Lauris mentioned a film festival being housed in the local arthouse cinema. I have always been a s-u-c-k-e-r for arthouse movies, even before the hipsters infested it. That night I learned arthouse can be freely translated into shithouse though, as some disastrous piece was shamelessly put out there on the screen for anyone to witness. Some Bolivian crap about peasants torturing cats and 10-minute-scenes simply filming the back of a driving truck. I was relieved when it was over, eating the pain away with my favourite Mexican food: Sushi! (Yes you wouldn’t have guessed it… but 2 rolls for 3,5 bucks: *angels singing and playing harp*).
We walked into the cold night and drove away from the city lights. I closed my eyes when Lauris explained the music I was listening to: the music styles of Banda, Norteña and Duranguense, the sounds of the north describing the adventures of the economic motor that keeps Mexico rolling… narcotrafficking.
We walked into the cold night and drove away from the city lights. I closed my eyes when Lauris explained the music I was listening to: the music styles of Banda, Norteña and Duranguense, the sounds of the north describing the adventures of the economic motor that keeps Mexico rolling… narcotrafficking.
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After a long cup of coffee I woke up to my favourite day of the week: Sunday free-museum-day! And Querétaro had plenty to satisfy a culture-hungry soul. I kicked off with Museo de Arte that apparently is free in general. I got led along paintings, photos and an introduction to mannerism, the cultural stream of darkness and gold that waved over from Europe to America. I didn’t know if I was going to like this. Then I saw the rooms full of religious paintings and I definitely knew I wasn’t going to like this. I can’t stand this ongoing stream of propaganda brainwashing the minds of the masses. I basically ran through it, every now and then shortly stopping when I noticed the name of some Dutch painters I had never heard of (Gerrit van Honthorst… no idea who the heck it is, but he made it across the ocean). The building was nice though. If you go, do it for the building.
I hurried to the market for lunch, letting myself be swallowed by the mass hysteria surrounding the food kitchens. I conquered a chair and immerged in the street scene, observing the sauce dripping of people's chins, wrinkled napkins being tossed around and under aged dishwashers working harder than their arms could manage.
I glared intrigued at the hundreds of people devouring inhumane amounts of fish, served with bread, crackers, rice and French fries (carb alert) and flushing it all away with the inevitable Coca Cola, the pillar of Latin-American society.
But even more they stared at me, punching each other in the side when I was about to pass by and lowering their voices to share their observations. I seemed to be a pioneer on this market ground, even after the Spanish.
I glared intrigued at the hundreds of people devouring inhumane amounts of fish, served with bread, crackers, rice and French fries (carb alert) and flushing it all away with the inevitable Coca Cola, the pillar of Latin-American society.
But even more they stared at me, punching each other in the side when I was about to pass by and lowering their voices to share their observations. I seemed to be a pioneer on this market ground, even after the Spanish.
I tried to track down Museo Regional. Once I accomplished this goal I let Spanish signs introduce me to the local history of the old monastery this museum is located in: First it was the ground of the Franciscans, after which came the Augustans and the Dominicans. The common goal: converting the Indians to Christianity. Not that the Indians asked for this, or seemed to be receptive to these ideas, but apparently that doesn’t matter if you use enough violence. Subsequently the Spanish entered Querétaro, blowing it all up when mingling religion with politics, establishing the notorious Spanish Inquisition that killed and tortured many.
I walked through a demonstration of the regional traditional economic sources like textile, mining and tobacco, once all of a sudden the historical chapter of the independence struggle and the Mexican Revolution (Porfiriato regime) was pointed out to me. Interesting and infuriating at the same time. Psssht: If you don’t speak Spanish or don’t feel like translating the countless textual displays, bring a Wikipedia hand-out to make your life a tad easier.
I walked through a demonstration of the regional traditional economic sources like textile, mining and tobacco, once all of a sudden the historical chapter of the independence struggle and the Mexican Revolution (Porfiriato regime) was pointed out to me. Interesting and infuriating at the same time. Psssht: If you don’t speak Spanish or don’t feel like translating the countless textual displays, bring a Wikipedia hand-out to make your life a tad easier.
Next! Teatro del República. Unfortunately there were no performances scheduled, but a sneak-peek from the tribune is free of charge.
I continued to Museo de la Ciudad, which appeared to be my unexpected favourite. The whole place looked more like a deserted workshop than a cultural institution, but that’s closer to the core if you ask me. And finally: NO RELIGION. Well, that’s the true blessing my friend. I shuffled into a tiny room dedicated to waterpaint artist Araki Huidobro. My day was instantly made. His black and white representations of daily life calmed me down with familiarity, while at the same time these scenes got lifted up to a higher level of perspective. I spent 30 minutes of my life living the magic of standing in between the work of a genius.
And there was more: Skilful art presented on skateboards, collages of mythological scenes combined (Johan Hall) and out-of-the-box-sculpture. Convinced that every museum I was about to visit after this one would end up to be a disappointment, I called it a day. And got myself some sushi.
And there was more: Skilful art presented on skateboards, collages of mythological scenes combined (Johan Hall) and out-of-the-box-sculpture. Convinced that every museum I was about to visit after this one would end up to be a disappointment, I called it a day. And got myself some sushi.
Still chewing I hurried to the local cultural centre. If the real theatre is closed you have to get yourself all the scrapes that are left. In this case an interpretation of my favourite French book: Le Petit Prince… or in this case: El Principito. It was a theatre show targeted to children, but I don’t think you should narrow it down that much. There were maybe 25 people in the audience (mainly parents with infants), so imagine how a foreign backpacker fits in. But that’s the point isn’t it, theatre opens the minds of all, it doesn’t acknowledge differentiation.
Another day in Querétaro I kept myself busy with one of the most popular daytrips: Bernal. Or more specific, Peña de Bernal. Apparently there is just one thing in the entire village of Bernal that is quite awesome and that’s a rock offering a view over the surrounding mountainous landscape. I was surprised about the expensive bus prices (44 pesos 1-way… in the south that’s the price for a 3-hour journey), but as I made it all the way down to the outside-town-bus-terminal I decided to not let that stop me.
Once there (I missed the stop thanks to the driver who would inform me when we’re there but he didn’t, so I had to walk a few kilometres back along the highway)… Again: Once there, I strolled around town staring at that one and only inevitable attraction. I stopped to chat with an old lady selling mineral stones as I’m always intrigued by the wonderful colors our nature is capable of producing. Every stone has a purpose, she explained to me with a rattling voice… the pink one was for love and friendship, the green jade for family happiness and economic prosperity, the blue agate for work success and the purple amethyst for protection against dangers, robberies and bad vibes. Travelling the world mostly alone I figured I could make good use of the purple one dangling on a necklace. If you might be able to pay it off with a less-than-a-dollar-necklace it’s worth the try, right?
Once there (I missed the stop thanks to the driver who would inform me when we’re there but he didn’t, so I had to walk a few kilometres back along the highway)… Again: Once there, I strolled around town staring at that one and only inevitable attraction. I stopped to chat with an old lady selling mineral stones as I’m always intrigued by the wonderful colors our nature is capable of producing. Every stone has a purpose, she explained to me with a rattling voice… the pink one was for love and friendship, the green jade for family happiness and economic prosperity, the blue agate for work success and the purple amethyst for protection against dangers, robberies and bad vibes. Travelling the world mostly alone I figured I could make good use of the purple one dangling on a necklace. If you might be able to pay it off with a less-than-a-dollar-necklace it’s worth the try, right?
I'm drifting off: The rock. I followed the handmade signs and entered the free (!) trail after I left my name and phone number at the entrance for the obligated safety precautions. See, my stone was working already! Less family-friendly than expected, I climbed all the way up along the unstable rocks and rolling sand until I saw a sign I couldn’t go any further. I just discovered the panorama button on my new second-hand phone though, so I decided to ignore the sign and climbed further up using hands and feet until I could also see the other side of the hill. Which was stunning. If this would have been my very last day in Mexico, I would have gladly spent it here. I got some panorama photos to back me up…
I spent many more days in Querétaro. Partly because I was waiting on my flight and partly because I rather did that waiting in the serene tranquillity of this colonial town than in the madness of Mexico City. Everything you can find on TripAdvisor I did, some things more spectacular than the other. I experienced many contrasts… I got my nose burnt by the sun and my feet frozen by a hailstorm (!). I felt lonely at times after someone I cared about had left, and I felt blessed by the company of welcoming strangers.
Querétaro was an appropriate goodbye party.
Querétaro was an appropriate goodbye party.
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- More beaches & scuba-diving in Mexico: Cozumel, Tulum & Cancún (don't go there)
- The vibrant cities of Mexico: Ciudad de Mexico, Merida, Oaxaca, Puebla, Queretaro, San Cristobal de las Casas
- Maya and Aztec heritage on Mexican grounds: Izamal, Palenque, Tulum and Valladolid
- An overview of all Mexican streetfood [Palenque]
- Where Le Petit Prince started... Peninsula Valdes, Argentina
- Check out Budget Bucket List's FAVORITE HIKING DESTINATIONS worldwide!