Guadalupe in Monterrey

Last night, my friend and I went downtown to the Basilica of Guadalupe to see the preparations for the Feast of the Virgin of Guadalupe, which is tomorrow.

The scene at the basilica was beautiful. Many dancers with feathered headdresses came in small groups up the pilgrimage route and then performed in the plaza - several dances were often taking place at once in different areas around the church while the mass going on inside the church played over loud speakers for those who could not get into the church itself. The busy, festival-like atmosphere had a beautiful, simple reverence to it.  There were hundreds of candles and flowers in various areas around the church, and everywhere there were people celebrating, singing, praying, posing for pictures, and taking in the scene.

 

Two of the streets that lead up to the basilica were lined with food stalls, shops, and pop-up vendors selling all sorts of religious and non-religious goods. There were calendars, toys, necklaces, candles, and rosaries for sale on the packed streets. More than that, though, there was food EVERYWHERE.

First, we came across folks selling raw sugar cane by the 'bolsita' or little bag.

Next, came the spun candy sellers - purveyors of candy canes, lollipops, and marshmallow treats. If it was colorful and sugary, it was available on both sides of the street, every few feet.

I was going into sugar overload just looking at all the candy, but fortunately there were many other, non-sugary options for dinner:

 

My friend and I settled down in a little sit-down restaurant and I had one of my favorite warm-me-up treats: Menudo - a very spicy soup made with tripe. I love the flavor of the soup, but can't stand the texture of tripe, so this is what my $2 bowl of soup looked like when I was finished:

Overall, it was a lovely, chilly winter night to take a little pilgrimage into unknown parts of Monterrey - and a great way to kick-off the Christmas season!

Mermaids Playing Guitars

So, I bet you didn't know this (or even want to know this) but Mermaids playing the guitar (and the ukulele) are totally a 'thing' in Mexico.

This is a statue in Tlaquepaque, Guadalajara of a mermaid, playing a guitar, while surfing on the moon:

I've also bought a few Mermaids playing the guitar (all in Merida, in the Yucatan). Here is a ceramic one:

and a tin one:

 

AND a wooden magnet.

One is a fluke, two is interesting, three is A THING (four is just obsession).

Therefore, Mermaids playing guitars are a thing in Mexico (and I have a weird obsession with them).

Other things that are 'a thing' in Mexico:

Biblical-ly Named Tiendas (these are all in tiny villages in the Yucatan):

...and Catrinas.

In a shop-front in Guadalajara

A live-action fortune-telling Catrina in Oaxaca at Easter

My roommate's Catrina cabinet (decorated for the holidays)

There's lots more 'things' - like Cabritos, and Tacos, and Tamales, and Pozole...and that's just for starters (literally, those are all food stuffs!). But for now, these are the things that make me feel most like Mexico is a very special place.

Sundays in Mexico: Day of the Dead edition

Every city I have been to in Mexico has a fancy neighborhood, and in that fancy neighborhood, every Sunday morning, they close a major thoroughfare to traffic so that people can walk, bike, or skate with their friends and family.

In Monterrey, the Sunday street is Calzada San Pedro, a 2.5 km long tree-lined commercial street that hosts the likes of Louis Vuitton and Vera Wang. Down the middle of the 6-lane road is a tree-lined walking path made of some space-age walking surface that hosts walkers every day, but on Sundays the street on both sides of the walking path is closed as well and the entire area becomes crowded with families, friends, and neighbors walking their dogs, riding their bikes, and taking in the great weather (at this time of year, anyway). They even have fancy port-a-potties!

Fancy Port-a-Potties in San Pedro Garza Garcia

In Monterrey and Merida you can rent bikes by the hour by simply turning over your driver's license (it is returned when you return the bike!) and 20-25 pesos. In Monterrey, you can also adopt a dog for an hour from the local pet shelter (the dogs wear little capes that say "Adopta Me!!" on them) and give the pet some much needed exercise and attention.

Bici-Ruta Rider in Merida

Bikes abandoned in Merida while the owners get some
chilequiles for breakfast...mmmm...chilequiles

This week, in honor of the Day of the Dead (November 2, a day when we remember those who have passed) various groups set-up Dia los Muertes altars along the path. There is an altar to remember Monterrey citizens who were killed in drunk driving accidents in the last year, an altar to remember famous Mexican artists, and an altar to bicyclists among the entries this year.

 

Cyclists' Altar

Artists' Altar / Grave Markers

Painted Gravestones

Last fall, the Calzada was one of the few places I was able to get some exercise, as Monterrey has such a car-culture. Fortunately, I've added dance and my Wii Fit, to the mix; but really nothing beats getting over to the Calzada and bumping in to friends, students, parents and colleagues as I walk along (Starbuck's in hand...wouldn't want to be too healthy!) and getting some much needed fresh air.

Pie Party

For my latest birthday, I invited my local-in-Mexico friends to my house and asked them to bring pie.

The awesome people I invited brought so much pie, that I had to take seven pies with bi-sected radius (radei? radiuses? circumferences? WHY AM I SO BAD AT MATH?) to school just to clear-out enough space in my fridge for my Slow-cooker Sunday leftovers (white bean & chicken chili, fyi, and it was delicious for lunch all week!).

How much is 'so much' pie? It's 19 pies...well, I made 3 pies, so it's 16 pies, plus the pie my friend brought me a week late (because an infant and a pre-schooler can hinder pie making efforts with all their adorableness); anyway, the sum of this equation is ... a lot of pie (see there, I beat you MATH!). Not TOO much pie, mind, there is no such thing - just SO much.

The winner of the trophy (of course there was a trophy!) was L with her Cornbread-BBQ pie, a pie that had BBQ chicken and melted cheddar on a cornbread crust that she had found the recipe for on Pinterest. She also took second place with Chocolate-Peanut Butter pie (and got bonus points for discovering - while researching pie recipes - that Rodney the Pie Guy - the man whose pies first sparked my pie-obsession - now has a Pie Truck in DC).

This is the trophy:

It says "Pie Champion"

These are the pies:

These are not ALL the pies, there was a second
wave of pies that arrived about 10 minutes after this was taken.

My life is so full of tasty-deliciousness and good bakers that some days I have to just kneel down and thank my lucky pie-plates for my ability to enjoy it all!

September Status

I just got back from another spectacular weekend in Merida, Yucatan for Mexican Independence Day! I even managed to stay-up past 10 pm this time and my friends and I went to the Greeto (Viva Mexico!) and the fireworks!

Street Food and Party Lights

 It was a bit drizzly in the Yucatan, but David (the proprietor of my B&B of choice in Merida) has recently built a covered porch on the back of the hotel, so our group bought a pizza at Vito Coreleone (in the Centro - so Yummy!) and brought it back to the porch and read-away an afternoon. Evenings were spent gouging ourselves on cochinita pibil, panuchas, local soups, and crepes with cajeta!

Other than the drizzles, it was the perfect temperature out and the cloudy days were really pleasant for walking around the streets of Merida, empty of people, yet crowded with a mixture of deco and colonial style homes - some restored, some evolving, some crumbling like cookies left out in the rain.

My favorite store (Minaturas) and my favorite restaurant (Amaro)
as seen from the doorway of Vito Corleone Pizzaria.

Unfortunately I've come back to rain in Monterrey. Lots and lots of rain - today, courtesy of Hurricane Ingrid. So much rain, for weeks now, that school was cancelled today by order of the local government and there is an impromptu waterfall behind my house:

This is the sky's perpetual mood these days.
That is also the hummingbird feeder I recently
had to replace due to clumsiness.

Because of all the rain, I had some time to update my travel map, so I thought I'd post it here, as long as I was posting.

Otherwise, life is school: it's teaching, it's learning, it's growing little minds into critical thinking machines. The world is just turning on and on and on and in a few days I turn older than now, which, despite all the planning, is going to catch me unawares this year, I just know it.

Sunset over the Valley

Yesterday afternoon as I was driving home from the grocery store, I noticed the blue sky beginning to be darkened by wispy purple/grey clouds (how's that for some passive voice?). Within minutes, the mountains began disappearing and the sky turned the color of soot from a chimney sweep's cheek.

I watched the sky, an old habit from my days in Louisiana when tornadoes regularly tore through the area: a cold front was coming in and clashing with the hot hot hot air that had preceded it and huge black clouds were butting-up against puffy white ones and rolling over the mountain tops (I wish I had taken video of this because it was beautiful in a terrifying kind of way). Rain pounded the windows slant-wise and flooded the streets for an hour and the dust of a dry August was washed from the trees.

Then it all stopped as abruptly as it began, leaving behind a watery-grey evening. 

A few hours later, as the sun began to set and dipped below the clouds on the horizon, little bits of the lower slopes of the mountain opposite my window began to look as if they were illuminated by a spotlight...a neighborhood here, a rocky crag there, until finally the whole valley was awash with the fiery light of a post-storm sunset full of pinks, blues, and blood-orange insides.

So I ran up to the roof and did my best to capture the dying embers of the day.

Cinque Terre & Venice

There are only 3 days left of Summer vacation for teachers at my school. Before me on my desk and bookshelf are five grammar texts that need scouring before I go back, and yet, much as I admonish my students for this type of behavior, I am distracting myself with the internet. Over the last few days I have distracted myself from starting my school year with unpacking (there's nothing left to unpack), organizing the new house (it's all now quite in order), and running errands (which has gotten quite out-of-hand). Procrastination is an absolute art, an art I actually excel at - and consequently am an expert at spotting in my students.

The fact that I'm not working on the last Saturday of the Summer really isn't surprising  (it is THE LAST SATURDAY OF SUMMER after all); and anyway, I need to get down my thoughts on Italy before they are even more of a distant memory than they already feel.

oh, Italy.

A nine hour train ride took me from Paris to Milan, then a two hour train ride took me from Milan to Monterosso, then a THIRD train took me to Riomaggiore where I would spend the next four days in such absolute bliss as one cannot describe in words.

Riomaggiore from the sea

The Cinque Terre is a collection of 5 towns on the Linguarian coast of Italy, the north-west - Monterosso - Vernazza - Corniglia - Manarolo - Riomaggiore. Most are devoid of cars - all lack busy automobile-ridden streets - and you access them by either ferry boat or train. The towns have an air of olden days, faded paint clings to the crumbling walls and tough, elderly fishermen, standing confidently despite the unsteady keel, row their tiny boats in after their mornings on the water.

Manarolo

The five towns are all connected by paths (known as Trail 2) that skirt vineyards that overlook the sea from the high terraced hills that surround the colorful little villages. Unfortunately, due to recent mudslides, many of those paths are currently closed - even the famed Via d'ell Amore was partially engulfed by the rich soil that tumbled down the hill with the Spring rains. Each path has a distinctive character - I've walked all but the Via d'ell Amore and each one offers its own special views of the mountains, the sea, the towns, and the local agriculture. My favorite path is the first one I ever hiked - Vernazza to Monterosso; the up and down steep steps and pathways take you high above Vernazza for spectacular views and then deep into culverts with trickling brooks before bending sharply up again for views of the sea. It is a physically demanding hike and in some places so narrow that only one person can pass in one direction at one time...which can be difficult as the day wears on and troops of out-of-shape tourists clog the paths during the hottest parts of the afternoon.

Riomaggiore

This trip the only path that was open every day of my visit was the Vernazza-Corniglia hike. This is one of the two paths I missed on my first visit, so I was happy to climb it. My friend and I started early in the morning - the misty harbor glittering below us as we did the steepest portion of the climb from just behind the Vernazza train station up behind people's houses and past bars and restaurants perched on the hill like gulls' nests. Once the initial ascent was complete, the path was largely level, until we would come to another set of limestone steps that would appear like an image from Lord of the Rings.

As Corniglia is the only town perched at the top of a hill and not on the sea, I was surprised at how up-and-down the path became as we came closer to the town, at times we were high above the town, and at other times the town rose above us. We were hiking nearly 45 minutes before we saw another soul on the trail, and only met a dozen or so people the whole hike until the end, when we saw masses of people starting their hike - though the temperatures were really rising at that point at nearly 10:30.

Corniglia

The church at Corniglia had organized a basil festival - where the organizers had given out hundreds of little basil plants and the residents of the town had to creatively display the plants all over the town, with a prize for the best display (sadly, we missed the pesto contest that came a few days later). Little pots of basil hung from ancient stone walls all over the town and the smell was incredible.

The rest of the day, after the 4 km hike, was spent on the beach in Monterosso, on rented chairs with occasional dips in the sea and eating amazing little savory pastries from a bake shop just outside the train station.

Outside of the hiking and beaching, this trip I also took advantage of the ferry service. On a whim, my friend and I took the ferry to Porto Venere, two towns to the South of Riomaggiore on the Golfi Poeti. The ferry ticket included a separate boat tour of the five islands that make up the Gulf of Poets and around the harbor of Porto Venere.

Porto Venere

Porto Venere was positively beautiful: a castle and ancient church stand guard above the town. A sheltered black-rock cove, called Byron's cove as it inspired some of his poetry, provided a nice place to eat prosciutto sandwiches we had bought in Riomaggiore before setting out in the morning. The town seemed larger than many in the Cinque Terre, and also emptier. Because it is not on the train line (it is accessible by ferry boat, bus, or car), many of the day trippers seemed to have missed it. This was a blessing because the Cinque Terre towns were packed from about 10:30 am - 3:00 pm while the day-trippers on tours / cruise ships were unloaded into the towns for 30 - 90 minutes a town and then moved on to the next.

Byron's Cove

As always, the food was amazing, the gelato was amazing, and the local wines were incredible and cheap.

fresh mussels

cone of fried sea critters - SOOOOOO good

After four days, it was time to move-on to Italy part II. An early morning train to Genoa, a mid-morning train to Milan, and a mad dash across 10 train platforms to catch the fast-train to Venice (Venezia).

Venice won me over in 2006. My friend, Awesome A, was living in Bologna and I went to visit her for Thanksgiving. We decided to take a day-trip to Venice (on the day of a train strike, we weren't even sure we'd make it!) and shortly after our arrival, it began to snow. The city was empty: a few locals went about their business, a few (a very very few) tourists were piled by their guide into a few gondolas, but otherwise everything was eerily quiet and still. The snowflakes continued to fall, started to stick, and began to pile up. We got lost in the snow, our feet were freezing, and we were really hungry when we stumbled upon a little sign set-up outside a first-floor room that was glowing warmly into the chilly grey of the evening. "Marie's" - it was a three-course set-menu for 5 euro. Marie was a tiny aging woman in a large fur coat, her boyfriend was a large, muscular Jamaican cook and it was her last night operating the restaurant as she was moving to Jamaica with her boyfriend. The restaurant was once three rooms, but the dividing walls had been knocked down between the rooms to make one long hall with benches and tables and three different wallpapers. The soup and coffee were warm, and the company - other travelers who had gotten lost in the snow - was jovial.

Lost in Venice - on purpose

Fast-forward to this summer; it's July in Venice. Tourists/tour groups/tour guides bustle through St. Mark's Square, crowd restaurants with large plastic menus printed in six different languages, and buy trinkets at the myriad stalls set up along the quay.

And I barely took notice of them.

Instead, my friend and I walked the winding back streets of Venice in the morning, taking especial care to get lost and not pulling out the map until it was time to eat. We took the Vaporetto (water bus) to Murano (an island 10 minutes or so from central Venice) early on a Sunday morning, saw a glass blowing demo, bought some trinkets, and had an early lunch; returning to Venice just as the crowds were heading out to Murano. We took the Vaporetto to Burano (90 minutes) early on a Monday morning, when Venice seemed overrun by cruise ships, and enjoyed a walk and lunch in the colorful fishing village and also got to speak to some local artisans about their glass and paper mache craft.

Burano

Every meal in Venice was amazing. I had ravioli stuffed with wild poppy flowers and topped with pomodoro and mussels, I ate fresh burrata with pesto and tomatoes, fish risotto, spicy squid, and a whole branzino. Life in Venice was delicious - pricier by far than the Cinque Terre, but worth every bite.

Burrata

Wild Poppy Flower Ravioli

I was sad to leave Italy behind and board the ferry for Croatia. I'm sad I'm not in Italy now. I am never, ever so happy as when I'm sitting sipping a proper cappuccino in an alleyway cafe, or enjoying a gelato on a rock by the sea - as long as it's in Italy.