Gordon Ramsay knows flan. And you don’t.
Two things happened last week.
My wife, Rose, and her daughter, Caira, binge-watched the 10th anniversary season of Gordon Ramsay’s “MasterChef.”
It is what they love to do when they are together.
Because our place is small, I sort of binge-overheard. Continue reading
Metropolitan Opera regional finalists and program producer Rodrigo Garciarroyo accept the ovations after an encore performance Sunday night at St. Paul’s Church in San Miguel de Allende.
“Something wonderful is happening here,” said Rodrigo Garciarroyo last night, after eight of Mexico’s finest young opera singers performed for more than two and a half hours before a very full house in St. Paul’s Church last night.
Producer and host Garciarroyo is a big man, in size and personality, and I don’t think he is given to understatement but then, we were all reaching for superlatives after this concert.
And all of us felt we were coming up a bit short. Continue reading
A lot of people don’t know this but Rose Alcantara is a shy person. You wouldn’t think it if you ever took one of her pilates or yoga classes.
But that shyness extends to her photography, too.
Whereas I take lots of pictures and post them willy-nilly to the blog, my wife sits down with her iPhone and hits delete, delete, delete, delete, delete. Continue reading
Walking around San Miguel de Allende — or probably most anywhere in Mexico — is a bit surreal today. And magical. And joyful. And curious. And beautiful. And heartwarming.
¡Feliz Dia de Muertos!
Catrinas and Catrines are everywhere. Not in the eye-popping costuming they’ll wear tonight as they parade about town. No, this afternoon the town was filled with skeletons walking around in shorts and t-shirts, school uniforms — you know extraordinary faces in ordinary clothes. Continue reading
Day of the Dead is ramping up in San Miguel de Allende.
Some stores are draping their entrances in beautiful floral designs. Marigolds are everywhere. Altars to loved ones who have passed away are being erected in household doorways, on staircases, and in the cemeteries and parks.
And, of course, the Catrinas and Catrines are beginning to come alive.
Last week, the only Catrinas in town were in store windows and displays — and they are beautiful. Now, their walking and talking embodiments are hitting the streets!
At least, the face painting is going on all over San Miguel — especially in Centro where outdoor art studios are set up in the streets and scores of people are waiting their turn for the magical transformation to take place.
Here are a few pictures from this afternoon in Centro! Continue reading
View from the deck of our bungalow in the jungle canopy at Anse Chastanet on St Lucia, our home for two weeks in 2011, exactly eight years ago this week. Rose is teaching yoga at Jade Resort, up the mountain from us and at Anse Chastanet, right on the beach. My first visit to the Caribbean and it is off to a fantastic start. (Rose taught here five years ago.) The peaks in the distance are the Pitons, also the name of the local beer, a light lager, perfect for the tropics.
Here’s the situation:
You know that you are going to get married on February 12, 2012. In Los Barriles, Mexico, a quiet little fishing village just 40 kilometers up the coast from the craziness of Cabo San Lucas.
The invitations have already been sent out.
It was a photograph with the inscription, “If you can make it, you’re invited.” More than 40 family and friends took us up on that offer. But that is another story. (See the invite at the bottom of this page!) Continue reading
The view from my seat in the courtyard of Bellas Arts, San Miguel de Allende. That the coffee and tarts are delicious is merely a plus for this lovely setting.
The other day I posted a picture on Facebook of a fruit tart and coffee at Zenteno’s Bellas Artes cafe. A good-sized chunk of the tart was missing.
Not missing, actually.
I know exactly where it went. Continue reading
An element of a plaza water fountain in Pontevedra, in which the shape of the spouting water is constantly changing to some hidden rhythm. The statue of the little boy always seems to get his mouthful, however.
Pontevedra to Caldas de Reis (22.2 kilometers, felt like 22.2 except for a very flat stretch of open and empty road after the sun came out)
We awake to a different Pontevedra this morning. Last night, we walked through gray granite and stone canyons, brightened only by the logos and signage of commerce and colorful storefront pitches for their wares, and the occasional art installation. And graffiti, ambitious graffiti murals in fluorescent colors.
But otherwise, a gray city fostering teeming waves of pedestrian life along traffic-free streets.
Now, in the morning gloom, the rain and the streetlamps have washed everything with a shimmering amber sheen. A neon art project sings like an aria to the skies above. The pulsing cherry-sherbert lighting on a plaza fountain vibrates with a force unfelt in daytime. Continue reading
This image was taken somewhere between Rubiaes and Tui, so it must have been a very pleasant walk.
Rubiaes to Tui (20.3 kilometers, felt like: Meh.)
Odd. I have almost no recollection of this segment of the Portuguese Camino. Except that it crosses the river Minho into Spain and you must remember to set your watch an hour forward.
Or was it backward?
Well, as my Grandmother Agnes Reuter used to say when she was well into her 90s, “Bobby, I have my good days and I have my bad days.”
I guess this was just one of those days. Continue reading
Since finding the teacup, the cobblestones have yielded other treasures — an anchor from a small fairy boat, a tiny pawn which may have been used as a coat rack, and the remnant of a fairy’s full-length mirror. They all stay in my change purse, should their owners ever wish to reclaim them.
There is an old tradition, which I am just now making up, that says when you find a fairy’s unbroken teacup on a cobblestone street, good luck will follow you around — as long as the cup remains intact.
For you see, anything that survives unbroken on a cobblestone street must be very, very lucky, indeed.
The fairies live in the oldest trees of San Miguel de Allende. When the trees are cut down to make way for more buildings, the fairies must flee and take with them the good luck, kind feelings, and benevolent outlook which they share with the city.
And the few possessions they can salvage ahead of the developers.
Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 