Tomorrow is my last full day in San Miguel de Allende. *sigh*
I was looking forward to making the most of this past week and treating myself a bit. I wanted to revisit all my favorite bars and restaurants. Because I’m as compulsively organized as I am romantic, I literally wrote out a schedule to fit everything in. But you know what they say about best laid plans.
I’ve only got one week left in San Miguel de Allende. Here is a list of the things I won’t miss:
- How every torta shop I went to used mayonnaise even when I asked them not to. Finally I tried writing down my order to see if that would help the last time at one of the stands in the mercado across from where I’m staying. The woman still grabbed the jar but caught herself and asked me if I was sure I didn’t want it. I did not. No me gusta la mayonesa.
- Mosquitos and cucarachas.
- Tiny sidewalks that no one can seem to figure out how to share.
I’m heading back to California next month but that’s not what’s important here. What’s important is why isn’t everyone screaming about The Alabama Shakes and how good they are?
It’s so nice to come back to someplace I already know and love, especially such a small town. I know where everything is. I know which streets I like to walk down. I know which cafés are nice to read in and which restaurant bars I feel comfortable at being a single gringa. A coffee shop I loved from before is gone, but there’s a new sushi place near the jardin, so that’s good.
I stayed at Hostal Alcatraz my first three nights here. This was where I spent two weeks about two and a half years ago during my first visit to SMA. One of the women working actually remembered me. They upgraded the bedding since last time.
I kept busy. I went out for drinks with some American and Brazilian women from my room. I got a desperately needed haircut, despite my worrying that my Spanish wouldn’t be good enough to explain what I wanted–it turned out just fine. I wound up chatting with some nice Australians at Los Milagros one night because I was eavesdropping and felt the need to correct them about how the Gipsy Kings are actually from France, not Spain (I’m a friendly pedant, I promise). I went to a movie at Cine Bacco–they screened Ed Wood in honor of the late Martin Landau. I attended my first guided meditation session and plan to go back again.
Then I checked into my apartment rental in Colonia San Rafael just outside the Centro Historico. It’s a simple room in a building with a common kitchen and bathroom, but I’m the only one here at the moment and don’t have to share. Since I’m all by myself, I have the luxury of not feeling I need to do anything. In hostels, even if all I want to do is lie on the bed and listen to a podcast or read old articles from The A.V. Club for a couple of hours, I wonder if I’m being judged for being a bad “tourist.”
The thing is, I don’t feel like a tourist in San Miguel. I certainly don’t feel like an expat either, but I’m somewhere in between for the next few weeks. I have a kitchen to cook in and a nice big bed. And towels! Yesterday I went out for lunch but I spent most of my time at the apartment. I read a bunch from Live From New York, an oral history about Saturday Night Live. I watched an HBO documentary about alcoholism and one of Julia Sweeney’s one-woman shows. I looked into flights home but also into possibly extending my time in SMA or Guanajuato. I sat on the terrace with a glass of wine while fighting off mosquitos. Today I’m doing basically the same thing.
I have no big plans for the next few weeks. I’ve hardly taken any photos. I probably won’t update this blog much. But if you need me, I can probably be found lazing around the apartment. Either that, or I’m at Don Taco Tequila again.