Santiago de Querétaro

| Querétaro, photo by G. Enns |

From an unmarked bus stop on Calle Benito Juárez we hop on the standing-room-only Flecha Amarilla. One hour of swaying in the middle aisle, and we pull into the Santiago de Querétaro, the place of the blue salamanders.

The history here is long, reaching back to the Teotihuacán, the Otomi, and later the Aztecs. The Spanish finally founded their city, erected their European buildings and churches, laid out their town squares. Today, these make up most of the surface of what we see, but the indigenous culture continues in the midst of the Spanish grandeur, in language, dress, dance, clubs, families, traditions.

We settle into our rooftop rooms in an old but kept-up colonial hotel, then head out for hamburgers and papas and lemonade at a little restaurant hidden in an old, slender courtyard. After, we stroll through the narrow cobblestone streets, looking into the doors and windows of vintage clothing shops, bars, and taco shops. At least one restaurant is frying up chicatana, flying ants.

We stop in at the Templo de la Merced and sit in the pews under arched ceiling, admiring the radiating blue and bold of the arched ceilings and dome. Down the street is the grander Templo de San Francisco with its ornate gold features. 

We are now in the center of the center, the large Jardín Zenea. This is the liveliest town square of the many squares in this city, and it is crowded. A big band plays atop a high bandstand. Couples dressed up in nice dresses, suits, and ties draw a large crowd with their salsa dancing. 

| Querétaro, photo by G. Enns |

Leaving the manic scene of Zenea behind, we find the Plaza de Armas, the most beautiful of Querétaro's spaces. The traditionally laid out landscape is flanked by colonial homes, terraces, and restaurants. Large hedges of trees trimmed high create a thick canopy to sit and walk under. There are plenty of benches and low retaining walls to relax and enjoy the soft music playing in the distance. At the center of the park is a fountain with the statue of Juan Antonio de Urrutia y Arana, with his four hounds at each corner of the pedestal, searching for game. Mujeres come around selling servilletas and Lele rag dolls. A young magician in black sombrero and trench coat does a card trick for us, but he speaks too fast for us to understand. 

Armas is laid back, with locals and tourists relaxing, strolling, enjoying nieves. We sit and watch our daughter chasing the bubbles that a street vendor blows with a bubble gun he’s trying to sell. 

Just off another square, the Plaza Constitucion, we go into a small food court and queue up for Nieves Ferss, a popular heladería known for its nieves—icy fruit desserts. The old guy inside takes his time with each customer, providing unsolicited samples on tiny plastic spoons. The line moves slowly, but finally it's our turn—samples and samples, like mango and maracuyá. He calls us all niños and niñas regardless of age. Finally we decide—limón and sandía all around. He shapes the scoops like a craftsman, knocking them off when dissatisfied and reforming them into perfect domes. 

We say our gracias and step back out into the night air. Comic performers on the plaza are making a great stir. We watch for a while, then finally make our way back to our old colonial rooftop rooms to settle in for the night.