You don’t get to feel a city’s pulse until you’ve been trapped on a few of its highways. To understand what I mean, do this: wake up in the fog-dipped countryside, speed through the open space of sparsely populated fields, then past the first signs of industry – factories, pristine and painted in candy colors or splattered with graffiti, past car dealerships and low-income suburbs, until the highway is choking on traffic and you’re stopped at a toll booth, the humming city emerging at this final checkpoint. Now we’re ready to enter Puebla.
Ideally, get a minimum of one week to explore this cultural goldmine, but with less disposal there’s only time for the essentials. Still, between traversing the Roman catholic cathedral, the smallest volcano, the bullring and the many lovely little towns in late spring heat, or early winter cool, there is time to soak in the sound of cobblestone streets, the distinct architecture [never enough fountains!], the fashion [popped collars going strong and neon colors blazing], to gorge on legendary typical Mexican food and to smile in bewilderment while stumbling upon yet another excavation site between a freshment stand and an overpass – centuries exposed and peeled away right there in the midst of modern life.
Later: an evening walk through the center, just before you shoe away to find some fun or rest for the night. Eventually it takes us to the most heart warming main square in the globe, surrounded by dozens of wine-swigging youths – laughing, kissing, smoking and dodging moderately shady types offering to take pictures for a small fee. Historical monuments for miles around are still annexed with teenagers and the like. Taco stands keeps action into the night hours, and you will duck in for a few more bites of magic.
No comments:
Post a Comment