The Tequila Diaries: Mexican Adventures, Part 2

Greetings from Patzcuaro! This tiny little place—hailed by my Frommer's guide as "perhaps the loveliest town in Mexico"—is a real stunner. After getting to my hotel earlier, I decided to take a stroll around. I literally felt as if I'd stumbled into some massive movie set from the good old days. It's a picture-perfect village, and I can't wait to see it in the early morning—for I know I'll be awake at the crack of dawn to explore! Yes, the last stage of my Mexican adventure is about to begin. But before it does, I have some more adventures to catch you up on! Gather round the fire—yes, there's a fireplace in my room here at Meson de San Antonio—to hear the tale of Tulum and the myth of Morelia!

The last time I checked in with my loyal readers was the morning after our arrival in Tulum. Heidi and I had touched down in Cancun late in the afternoon the day before, promptly connecting with our driver and stocking up on massive frozen margaritas to sustain us for the duration of the approximately ninety-minute journey from airport to resort.

The place, Dreams Tulum, was—in a word—amazing. A few more: stunning, sprawling, immaculate and luxurious to excess. What’s more, we had booked ourselves in the deluxe (adults only) section of the resort, which meant that our room included swim out access to the pool, direct from our own private terrace. For several hours each afternoon, a dedicated waiter roamed about taking drink orders. Another tequila sunrise, por favor.

About five minutes’ walk from our hacienda was the beach, which included a special, exclusive area for the use of deluxe guests. In addition to beach chairs, there were also private cabanas, our room including one day’s worth of complimentary access.

Food and drinks were bountiful, err, make that boundless, from amazing chilaquiles for breakfast (Rojo or verde? Carne or pollo?), again, in an exclusive dining room reserved for our use, to constant margaritas as we lounged on the white sand.

It would have been oh-so easy—and I’m sure Heidi and I would have both been easily forgiven—had we never ventured past the imposing front gates of Dreams. But, being the motivated individuals that we are, we made the effort to see a little of the surrounding area.

Tulum is perhaps most famous for its ancient ruins, perched precariously on a bluff overlooking the turquoise waters of the Caribbean and augmented by gentle trade winds that seem to infuse the air with an aura of enchantment. Powerful waves crash below, and the majestic ruins are the quintessence of everything you envision about your Mexican adventure before setting off.

So we awoke early that Thursday morning, immediately ordered a cab, and made the short trek up the coast to the site, arriving just after opening to beat the crowds who’d soon be pouring in. Snapping photos and enjoying the tranquil scene in relative silence, I was so happy we opted to put in the additional effort. The payoff was immense, wandering from one ancient structure to the next, learning of their histories, and soaking up not only the man-made aspects of the site but also its incredible natural beauty, complemented by the presence of dozens of gruff-looking iguanas.

Of course, I just had to pop into the Starbucks near the exit so I could snag a new mug for my collection. But after that quick coffee, we were back en route to Dreams for the rest of the day. Having checked a major item off our to do list, we were still early enough to indulge in breakfast (another mimosa, por favor) before heading to the beach. And it was there that I finally got a chance to meet Colleen, the lovely bride-to-be, and a posse of her friends.

Later that morning, by the pool a few meters away, I met groom Greg and his buddies. And as the tequila shots began flowing, the afternoon just dissipated in a mélange of sun, surf and celebration.

That evening would be our one and only chance to discover the town of Tulum, so I’m sure you can guess that Heidi and I took full advantage. As I mentioned, our resort was all-inclusive, so there was really no need to indulge in an off-site meal. But it seemed silly to us to arrive just on the cusp of a world-famous town yet never bother to venture a mere mile or two further to properly explore it.

Our first choice of restaurant couldn’t accommodate us, since a large part of their exposed garden was out of commission due to an afternoon shower. But as we explored its neighbors, Heidi recognized another eatery that had come highly recommended by friends: Gitano.

So in we went.

Gitano (that's Spanish word for gypsy, in case you are curious) is set in a hidden garden a few steps off the sandy main strip of Tulum. With dim lights, swaying palms and well-spaced tables, it proved a perfect venue for our meal of shrimp tacos, ceviche and whole roasted fish. And as an uber-trendy crowd of Tulum’s most beautiful people filtered in, it felt like the Hollywood jet-set had invaded this supposedly once sleepy little fishing hamlet.

And back at Dreams afterwards we reconnected with our wedding crew, sipping tequila and sodas well into the night.

Friday was our dedicated cabana day. After more chilaquiles—and more mimosas—we migrated from dining room to playa, where we plopped down on our comfy cushions and lazily whiled the rest of the day away.

But by mid-afternoon, we had to make an executive decision. Saturday would be a full-on wedding day, and I was heading to the airport very early on Sunday morning. Therefore, if wanted to check the third item off our Tulum to do list, we’d have to do it now! The attraction in question was a visit to a cenote, and it had been recommended by, well, by pretty much everyone who offered advice on what to do in Tulum. So, I’m sure you’ve already guessed that another taxi ride was in order.

For those of my readers unfamiliar with cenotes—and I counted myself among you until I started researching for this trip—they are basically freshwater pools that form naturally when the roof of a cave collapses, exposing the water below. With cool, crystal-clear water and intriguing stalactite and stalagmite formations, not to mentioned turtles and bats, the cenotes of this part of Mexico are one of the region’s most appealing attractions.

We had just enough time at our cenote of choice, the Grand Cenote, before it closed that afternoon. Our taxi waited as we swam about the cold waters and explored the various tunnels and dark passages that lead away from the main pool, before we headed back to the resort for the rehearsal dinner.

Truth be told, I wasn’t entirely sure we were making the right choice when we opted to leave the all-inclusive grandeur of Dreams to embark on yet another excursion. Putting this recap together now, in hindsight, I can’t believe we even debated skipping out!

The next day’s wedding was lovely, with the ceremony in a little garden, cocktail hour on a rooftop terrace overlooking the sea, and dinner on the beach itself, our feet in the sand. A seam in my pants had ripped at some point during my travels, and earlier in the day, I was in a bit of a panic as to how to save the situation. Enter heroic Heidi, who called her ever-trusty mom, who, in turn, talked Heidi through some emergency seamstress tips. Thanks to their joint action, my dance moves continued unabated throughout the long, extravagant evening.

Like that, it was Sunday morning. My sojourn in Tulum had come to an end. And it was also time for Heidi and I to part ways, as I flew back to Mexico City to continue my adventures, while she had a few precious hours to savor at Dreams’ spa before returning to New York for work on Monday.

I had initially planned to fly straight from Cancun directly to my next destination, without a stopover in Mexico City. However, Sunday was Oscar night, and Alfonso Cuaron’s family epic Roma was nominated for a whopping ten awards! The city was over-the-moon with pride, and had organized an outdoor showing of the ceremony, live in the Roma neighborhood where the film was set. For a movie buff like me, watching the Oscars is always a must. And the rare opportunity to watch them on a huge screen in a communal setting was unmissable.

So after plopping down in a Starbucks near El Angel to sort my plans (and, it must be confessed, to snag Mexico City’s mug), I walked to Plaza Rio de Janiero, where the telecast was being shown.

I was immediately reminded how much I had fallen in love with the place. The simple walk past lively squares, gorgeous buildings and inviting cafes, all brimming with friendly people, made me wonder whether I’d be better served to simply spend the coming days exploring more of this fascinating city.

Roma did well at the Oscars, racking up major wins for Best Cinematography, Best Foreign Language Film and, perhaps most prestigiously, Best Director for Cuaron. It was amazing to be a part of the crowd when each of those categories was announced.

Though when Julia Roberts revealed that Green Book had emerged victorious over Roma in the Best Picture race, there was an undeniably disappointed moan from the gathered viewers, I can safely say that I’ll never forget Oscar night 2019. The masses quickly dispersed following the loss, and I couldn’t help but wonder if a massive, impromptu street party would have ensued had Oscar voters delivered a different verdict. But, on the plus side, I was spared the decision of sticking around or making tracks. I was able to hop an Uber straight to the bus station to proceed to my next destination: Morelia in the state of Michoacán.

I arrived in the middle of the night without any reservation, and when my taxi dropped me in the main square near the cathedral, it was clear that Morelia is a city that sleeps. There was nary a soul in sight, but I quickly found one of the hotels endorsed by my trusty Frommer’s guide, Hotel Casino, where the night staff helped me settle into a room.

Now Mexico City is a massive capital of nearly nine million people. And Tulum is a tiny tourist town with a permanent population of less than twenty thousand. So part of the reason I selected Morelia for my next destination is that it offered a sort of middle-ground, a provincial capital city with slightly more than half a million inhabitants. It was a perfect choice, and although I really only had one full day to properly soak up Morelia, it’s a place I highly recommend visiting.

That day started, as I’m sure you can imagine, fairly early. And although I caught a few glimpses of its beauty the night before, it’s a place that really needs sunshine to showcase its beauty.

The buildings in Morelia are mostly constructed from a distinct sort of local volcanic rock. Lent a pink hue by nature, these stones subtly change color based on the hour, as the sun’s light—variously soft in the morning, strong at midday and soft again at twilight—seems to shade the churches, government buildings and monuments with unanticipated rosy shades at different times of the day. It’s downright stunning, and I found myself repeatedly photographing the same structures time and again, trying to capture the nuanced tones.

My room rate at Hotel Casino included a delightful breakfast, more memorable perhaps for its amiable setting than strictly for the food itself, but I’m not complaining. I enjoyed fresh fruit, pastries, coffee and juice on the cool, arcade-covered sidewalk, looking across to the Plaza de Armas and the town’s ethereal cathedral.

After breakfast, I set off on Frommer’s designated walking tour, exploring the interior of the cathedral and the Palacio del Gobierno, housing the offices of some of the town’s officials. Once inside the complex, a series of colorful, extensive murals recount tales from Michoacán history, while the cathedral’s stately towers stand guard above the roofline.

The city is full of majestic buildings, and the whole place has an air of refined nobility, from the Hotel Virrey de Mendoza to the Convent of San Francisco, which now doubles as a museum-cum-market of local handicrafts.

When pangs of hunger struck, I took refuge at Restaurante Los Mirasoles, with a charming interior courtyard, complete with fountains and paintings. There was no English menu, but with the combination of free wi-fi and Google translate, I was able to order a hearty pork mole. And I loved it.

In the afternoon—after hitting up some local Starbucks locations only to disappointedly discover the town’s mug has been discontinued, or, at least, was collectively out of stock that day—I was back on the tourist trail, starting at Morelia’s graceful colonial aqueduct.

Parallel to the aqueduct is a long, shady walkway called La Calzada Dray Antonio de San Miguel, where scenes from the 1947 Tyrone Power classic Captain from Castile were shot. The elegant Calzada is lined with stone benches from end to end, and during my stroll, leaves were cinematically dropping from the trees. You could immediately understand why director Henry King chose to film part of his movie here.

At the far end of the pathway sits a somewhat inconspicuous-looking church dedicated to San Diego. Its ordinary exterior, however, gives way to the most ostentatiously excessive neo-Baroque interior I’ve ever seen: all blue, pink and gold! I had to sit down for a minute, I was so overwhelmed.

Back outside, sunset was approaching, and I walked along the town’s main street, ducking into one last church on the way. Then I headed up to the rooftop bar of the hotel next door to my own, Hotel Mision, where a stunning vista awaited.

Complemented by two-for-one Coronas, the view was simply stellar. I snagged a window table and gazed out over the gorgeous panorama, taking in the now-illuminated twin bell towers of the cathedral, a dozen or so other spires and the sights of the town, all backed up by mountains.

But it was the next day, Tuesday, that I had been waiting for most anxiously! You see, I checked out Frommer’s Mexico from the Hong Kong Public Library months ago to start making plans for this trip, and I read the whole thing cover to cover. Pretty much from the start, the one thing that jumped off the page and captured my imagination was a visit to a Michoacán butterfly sanctuary during the annual monarch migration, which only occurs between November and March. Luckily, Hotel Casino helped to book me a spot on a guided tour.

The experience was incredible. Firstly, our friendly group of nine (including the knowledgeable guide-cum-driver), made the three-hour ride in each direction fly by, especially with the passing scenery of Michoacán, purported to be one of Mexico’s most beautiful states. I could tell we were nearing the sanctuary when those iconic orange-and-black flyers began making sporadic appearances, gradually growing more frequent until there was a near-constant butterfly presence.

But it was not until we arrived at our destination and got out of the van that I realized how truly breathtaking and unforgettable the day would be. Up in the forested hills—which I scaled on horseback—there were millions of them! That’s not a turn of the phrase or merely an expression. In fact, the guide estimated there were twenty-five million monarchs fluttering about that day. I made friends with an American tourist named Jen, and she and I walked through the woods, where we both couldn't stop ooh-ing and aah-ing at the natural spectacle on display all around us. 

But those butterflies (or flutter-bys, as Jen preferred to call them) were everywhere! In times of cloudy cover, the vast majority clung to tree branches, which literally bent under the strain, though, of course, a fair number of the little critters were always gliding in the breeze. But when the clouds parted and the sun came out, the masses hit the move! All of a sudden, the air became filled with wings, and I’ll never forget the first moment it happened.

Looking up, the closest insects were clearly discernible, the details of their wings visible to the naked eye. Every now and then, one might even accidentally fly into one of the visitors! Higher, vague outlines of the butterfly shape were at least somewhat clear for an instant, as they quickly moved in and out of view. But, perhaps most memorable of all, were the unclassifiable black dots whirring about beneath the clouds, way overhead, by far the largest group.

Then the clouds would overtake the sun again, and the frenzied flurrying would diminish to a trickle, the tree branches again wilting as the monarchs latched on. But a few moments later, with the return of the sunshine, the spectacle would begin anew.

Between goosebumps and giddy giggles, I must have snapped a hundred photographs and videos before deciding that I should just put the camera down and live in the moment. Dependably, I’d reach back in my pocket shortly thereafter, again attempting to capture the most stunning natural phenomenon I’ve ever had the privilege to witness.

Back in Morelia, I took a last stroll around town and ordered an Uber to Patzcuaro, where I’ve booked a room for tonight at the Meson de San Antonio. In a perfect world, my trip to Mexico would have been much more leisurely. I wish I could have rented a car upon arrival and moved about the entire country at my pleasure, stopping in a place until I was ready to move to the next. Had that been the case, I’m sure I would have stayed at least a few more days in Morelia—and maybe even an extra night at one of the anonymous country inns near the butterfly sanctuary! But if I wanted to see Patzcuaro and one more as-yet-unconfirmed final destination before my flight home, it was time to go.

And, well, here I am… And what a day it’s been! I can hardly believe I breakfasted at the Hotel Casino this morning, spent six hours driving about the gorgeous state of Michoacán, witnessed the mind-boggling spectacle of the butterfly migration, and now, am finally settled down before the fireplace in this gorgeous little inn. I’m so excited to hit the cobbled streets of Patzcuaro in the early hours tomorrow. Stay tuned to hear all about it, as I write the final chapters of my escapades in Mexico!