#TakeMeBack: Magic Towns on Mexico's Freedom Trail

There was a time when the notion of "going to Mexico" would have conjured in my mind an image of sun and sand, crystalline waters and outsized margaritas, packaged in crisp, clean resort living. Or perhaps my more culturally adventurous side may have pictured immersion in the inimitable bustle of Mexico City or the country's second city, Guadalajara. It's in between those two metros, though, where I was fortunate to discover how history, natural beauty, romance, and small town charm can collide to really make things magical.

Around the turn of this century, the Mexican government instituted a program called "Pueblos Mágicos," or "Magic Towns," intended to promote certain non-cities that offer visitors a unique experience. Today, 121 locales have been designated Pueblos Mágicos, and nine of them lie along one roughly two-hundred-mile corridor spanning the states of Guanajuato and Michoacán.

Pueblos Mágicos of central Guanajuato/northern Michoacán

San Miguel de Allende

Though it's no longer officially a Pueblo Mágico by virtue of having since received a superseding UNESCO World Heritage Site status, San Miguel de Allende is an ideal starting point for a trip to this part of Mexico. Led by American artist Stirling Dickinson, the town gained a reputation as an art colony in the years surrounding World War II, and it has seen a steady influx of English-speakers ever since. Much of the town's economy caters to the expat community, making it a comfortable place for Anglo-phonic tourists to get introduced to non-coastal Mexico.

San Miguel's historic core is compactly arrayed around its most famous landmark, a spectacular neo-Gothic parish church whose pastel-hued masonry takes on an almost otherworldly pink glow at sunset. Narrow streets branch out from the central square, the Jardín Allende, into neighborhoods that quickly become hilly and, in some spots, force the roads to take the form of stairways. It's reminiscent of scenes from, say, San Francisco or Lisbon, making exploring on foot a true delight.

The iconic La Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel rises above the Jardín Allende at the center of town.

As with the central plazas of many cities and towns of Hispanic origin, the Jardín Allende remains the focal point of community life, a public space where those from all walks of life can mingle, eat, drink, and be entertained.

Narrow, sloping, colorful, stone-paved streets lend an "Old World" vibe to San Miguel's historic core.

The Mexican "Freedom Trail"

Tens of thousands of visitors to Boston every year take the time to follow the Freedom Trail, a walking route that winds past a number of sites that were important in the United States' quest for independence from England. Central Guanajuato state is Mexico's Boston in that regard, the epicenter for the movement that would eventually win freedom from Spanish rule. Though a similar story in some respects, the saga ultimately differs wildly from America's in fascinating ways.

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Dolores Hidalgo

Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla was a humble cleric in the village of Dolores who fervently believed in egalitarianism. He made it his mission to teach science and agriculture to the indigenous and mixed-race populations—who were considered lower castes by the Iberian "peninsulares" and exploited and oppressed as such—so that they could achieve self-reliance from Spain.

In the summer of 1810, Hidalgo became involved in a conspiracy to overthrow Spanish rule, which the colonial government soon rooted out. Fearing arrest, Hidalgo made a desperate gambit: A couple of hours after midnight on the early morning of September 16, he rang his church bells to assemble his congregation and emerged to issue a call to arms. This impassioned appeal became known as the Cry of Dolores, the spark of the Mexican independence movement and the reason Mexico's Independence Day is celebrated on September 16 (not Cinco de Mayo, a common misconception).

After independence, the town adopted Hidalgo into its name in honor of the man who is considered the "Father of Mexico."

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Sanctuary of Atotonilco

Backed by hundreds of men, Father Hidalgo led a march south from Dolores towards San Miguel. They stopped first at the outpost of Atotonilco, home to a stunning, mural-filled baroque church built in the 17th century by the local priest, as the legend goes, under the instruction of a vision of a bloody Jesus. There, Hidalgo took a banner depicting the Virgin of Guadalupe, which became the symbol of the nascent insurgency. Today, the Sanctuary of Atotonilco is part of San Miguel de Allende's UNESCO World Heritage purview.

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Putting the Allende in San Miguel

By nightfall on the 16th, Hidalgo and his men had taken San Miguel, the first city of any import to come under rebel control. Hidalgo's right-hand man and top military advisor was a former captain in the Spanish army named Ignacio Allende who was born in a house that directly fronted the central plaza in San Miguel. As with Dolores, post-independence the town appended its local hero to its name.

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Guanajuato

Over the following week and a half, Hidalgo and his ever-growing army traversed the nearby countryside, recruiting more supporters to the cause. After sacking the city of Celaya, Hidalgo and company turned their attention to Guanajuato, a mining boomtown that was crucial to the colonial economy of New Spain. By then, the insurgent ranks had swollen to over 20,000, massively outnumbering Guanajuato's royalist elites and their guards. On September 28 the royalists locked themselves in the Alhóndiga de Granaditas, or granary, shown here as it still stands today.

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Battle for the Alhóndiga

For a brief spell the few hundred royalists held off Hidalgo's vastly superior force. Eventually, though, the insurgents were able to storm the complex, where they took no quarter in killing everyone inside. The depiction shown here was painted by José Diaz del Castillo in commemoration of the battle's 100th anniversary.

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El Pípila

The siege at the Alhóndiga was only as short-lived as it was thanks in large part to Juan José Martinez, otherwise known as "El Pípila." He was a local miner who strapped a flat stone to his back to shield himself against musket fire from the fortifications above while he set about burning down the door to the Alhóndiga. A larger-than-life sculpture of El Pípila now stands on a ridge above the center city, watching over the city he once helped to liberate.

The story of Mexican independence has many twists and turns from that point and did not follow a linear path by any means, not entirely unlike the American Revolution. What differs appreciably from the birth of the United States, however, is how perilously close the entire uprising came to being completely crushed in one fell swoop.

After a demoralizing defeat in January of 1811 to a dramatically outmanned but much better-organized loyalist army at Calderón Bridge outside Guadalajara, Hidalgo and his troops fled northwards in hopes of regrouping and generating support in Texas or even the United States. They were betrayed and captured before they could get there, though, and Hidalgo was executed in Chihuahua along with Allende and two of his other most trusted lieutenants. Their heads were returned to Guanajuato where they were put on full display at the Alhóndiga.

It's rather sobering to try to imagine a timeline in which the likes of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, the Adams cousins, and Benjamin Franklin were all captured and executed, say, by the end of 1776. Such a thought exercise makes it all the more remarkable that the Mexicans were able to persevere through not only that initial calamity, but eventually another ruthless cull of leadership at the hands of the Spanish and subsequent fragmentation into a seemingly hopeless quagmire of guerrilla fighting in the far southern extent of the colony.

It took until beyond the end of the decade, a coup back in Spain, a defection from the commanding general of the loyalist army, and a tenuous agreement that essentially maintained the status quo of the caste system, except handing power to the Mexican-born criollo elites as opposed to the peninsulares, but Mexico was at last an independent nation. The full story is worth delving into, but for now, let's spend some more time in Guanajuato...

Guanajuato

Though it's far too large (pop. ~190,000) to receive Pueblo Mágico consideration (and, like San Miguel, already a UNESCO World Heritage Site, anyway), Guanajuato is a truly magical place in its own right—one of the most magical places I have ever experienced. The Spanish unearthed rich veins of gold and silver here in the mid-16th century and the city's fortunes have been closely tied to mining ever since. The city grew rapidly, organically, and in concert with the sharp relief of the immediate terrain.

The upshot is an urban environment that feels almost like an optical illusion in its multi-level arrangements. The tiers of brightly colored domiciles, visible at every turn, were the aesthetic muse for the City of the Dead in the hit animated film, "Coco." The layout of the city is so constrained by topography that the majority of automobile traffic is directed underground, to a series of tunnels built beneath the streets. Labyrinthine alleyways (callejones) twist and wind haphazardly, linking dozens of little parks and plazas in a confounding manner that only a long-time local will ever be able to memorize. But don't worry—getting lost in this maze is half the fun.

Grand Staircase outside the University of Guanajuato's main building

Modern prosperity

The mines that were Guanajuato's lifeblood for centuries are mostly gone now, and those few that still operate do so at a fraction of their peak capacity. That hasn't stopped the city from thriving on modern terms, however. In addition to being its eponymous federal state's seat of government, a major university (Universidad de Guanajuato) keeps the economic pumps primed, in addition to a burgeoning tourism infrastructure for those both inside and outside of Mexico who are starting to catch on to this no longer well-kept secret.

City of romance

Perhaps the most striking thing about Guanajuato, above all else, is how romantic it is. In spite of—or maybe on account of—its gritty, blue-collar history, love is unmistakably in the air.

Roving packs of young minstrels, called callejoneadas, stroll the streets and alleyways of the center city every evening, dressed in traditional garb as they spin ballads while encouraging followers to join their merry ramble.

Couples are liable to start salsa-ing in public squares at any moment.

The most famous callejon of them all, the Callejon del Beso, is home to Guanajuato's very own Romeo & Juliet folk tale. According to legend, a forbidden love blossomed across class divides and balconies in this very alley and was ended forcibly and tragically by angry parents. It is said that couples that kiss on the third step, beneath the star-crossed lovers' perches, will enjoy seven years of happiness.

And, of course, there's the local obsession with Miguel de Cervantes and his character Don Quixote, the original literary romantic. Representations of the Man of La Mancha abound on seemingly every corner.

Every October, the Festival Internacional Cervantino temporarily doubles the city's population. It brings in thousands of artists and stage performers, acclaimed and amateur alike, for two weeks of celebration.

Guanajuato also has a more macabre side, evidenced in its renowned Mummy Museum, a collection of mid-to-late 19th century corpses from the adjacent cemetery that were exhumed when their families could not or would not maintain payment of the local burial tax.

Morelia

The U.S. State Department-issued "DO NOT TRAVEL" advisory that goes into effect upon crossing from the state of Guanajuato into Michoacán feels daunting and ominous, but in truth it pertains more to the swaths of the state to the south and west, closer to the Pacific coast. While traveling with a licensed guide is still advisable for foreign visitors and exercising general awareness and caution is always a prudent idea, I would heartily endorse not letting fear alone preclude someone from exploring this special part of the world.

This northern portion of Michoacán is anchored by the state capital, Morelia, home to three quarters of a million people. Yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site, Morelia differs from Guanajuato and San Miguel in that it's recognized for its well preserved Spanish colonial layout, with wide boulevards organized into a structured grid around a grand plaza at the nexus, much as they were four centuries ago.

Morelia features a textbook example of a Spanish colonial Plaza de Armas, complete with a masterpiece of an early 18th century baroque cathedral.

The Plaza de Armas is ringed by covered arcades, populated by cafés and restaurants specializing in upscale comida Michoacana.

The Colegio de San Nicolás Obispo claims to be the oldest college in the New World, opening in 1540 in nearby Pátzcuaro under the direction of Vasco de Quiroga, the first Bishop of Michoacán. It moved to what is now Morelia (called Valladolid at the time) in 1580, where it would later educate Father Hidalgo.

Constructed over the better part of a century, the city aqueduct was completed in 1730. Much of it still stands today.

Morelia's role on the Freedom Trail

Morelia also played its part in the battle for Mexican independence from Spain. The presence of Saint Nicholas College fostered a more enlightened segment of the population who were aware of the revolutions in the United States and France. The 1809 Conspiracy of Valladolid, a precursor to the following year's more fruitful insurrection, was quashed by the colonial government, but not before fomenting anti-Spanish sentiments in the area.

Courtyard outside the birthplace of José María Morelos. In keeping with the pattern of municipal nomenclature honoring hometown revolutionaries, Valladolid was renamed to Morelia in 1828.

Valladolid also gifted José María Morelos to the cause. Born in a house just a couple of blocks off the Plaza de Armas, Morelos took up the reins of the independence fight after the demise of Hidalgo and Allende. He spent several years securing the southern territory encompassing the present-day states of Guerrero and Oaxaca. In 1815, however, he too was captured and executed, leaving his second, Vicente Guerrero, to continue the war.

Guerrero fought the loyalists to an effective stalemate and was eventually party to the conclusion of the conflict, convincing loyalist General Agustín de Iturbide to turn his back on Spain in an 1821 compromise that was known as the Plan of Iguala. Without control over their own military apparatus in New Spain, Spanish rule was no longer tenable.

Michoacán's Magic Towns

Morelia lies within the heart of the Trans-Mexican Volcanic Belt, a thousand-kilometer arc of volcanic features, a number of which are still active, spanning from east to west across the nation. Already the effects of these uplands can be felt in the stark difference in climate and flora from the semiarid altiplano—high plain—to the north, an effect that increases as one ventures further into Michohácan.

A relief map (left) shows the pockmarks of volcanic cones dotting the northern Michoacán landscape, while satellite imagery of the same extent (right) captures the distinct change in vegetation. Use the slider bar to compare the two views.

Taking Carretera Federal 15 west out of Morelia is the beginning of an unforgettable journey of culture and charm. I would never have expected this unassuming corner of the Michoacán countryside to resonate so deeply in me.

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Capula

The tiny town of Capula is famous for its ceramics—especially for its catrinas, colorfully and lavishly dressed and accessorized skeleton dolls. The popularity of catrinas arose from an early 20th century satirical cartoon poking fun at the desire of Mexicans to emulate wealthy Europeans and reminding people that all are equal in death. Catrinas have since become a ubiquitous symbol of Day of the Dead celebrations and were the artistic inspiration for the characters in the film "Coco."

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Quiroga

Quiroga is not designated a Pueblo Mágico, but to me its charisma is derived from simply how real of a place it is. It's a provincial market town whose aim is not first and foremost to lure tourists; instead, its well-worn streets are lined with vendor stalls, many of which hawk the wood-carved goods and crafts that the town is known for. Mexico has some of the best street food in the world, so be sure to save some time after shopping for a quick bite of pork carnitas or al pastor.

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Santa Fe de la Laguna

Santa Fe de la Laguna is one of the remaining enclaves of the Purépecha people, a major pre-Columbian empire of Central America, rivaling the Aztecs. Here the "Coco" tour continues, too: director Lee Unkrich used elements of the village as the basis for the one depicted in the movie.

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Mezcaleria Palomas Mensajeras

Quick, what's the national spirit of Mexico? Surprisingly, it's actually not tequila—the honor is instead reserved for mezcal. Many towns, no matter how insignificant or poor, have their own mezcaleros. Production is small-batch and done painstakingly by hand, using the same techniques that have been passed down over generations. Mezcal is made from the agave plant, roasted in underground, earthen ovens, giving the beverage its trademark smoky flavor, then mashed before fermenting in vats. The Mezcaleria Palomas Mensajeras is a worthy roadside stop on the north side of Lake Pátzcuaro. (Crickets are optional!)

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Tzintzuntzan Archaeological Site

The Purépechas established their capital overlooking Lake Pátzcuaro at the melodically named Tzintzuntzan. As an empire they held off the fearsome Aztecs for centuries, only to capitulate to the Spanish in the early 1500s. In the 1930s excavation of the site began, unearthing five massive pyramids, amongst other structures. In the town below, a restored Franciscan monastery embodies the clash of cultures and religions that took place during the so-called Age of Discovery.

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Hacienda Ucazanaztacua

Lake Pátzcuaro is endorheic, meaning it does not drain to the ocean. Maybe this unusual quality contributes to the mystical feeling that permeates the environs, aided by the august silhouettes of ancient volcanoes. Sitting lakeside at the Hacienda Ucazanaztacua feels like a dreamscape, something out of a surreal computer game.

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Isla de Janitzio

The largest island in Lake Pátzcuaro is the humpbacked Janitzio. A small fishing community scales the hill, capped by a soaring statue of José María Morelos. One day each year the population of the island multiplies exponentially, as over a hundred thousand voyeurs arrive to take in one of the country's most famous Day of the Dead celebrations.

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Pátzcuaro

One of my goals in life is to find the platonic ideal of the public square, and I was thrilled to discover that Pátzcuaro's Plaza Grande comes pretty darn close. Its scale, intimacy, vibrancy, and relationship with its surrounding streets and buildings all struck a perfect balance in my eyes as it hummed with life on a spring evening.

These vignettes take me back to a beautiful part of the world and cherished memories of the time I spent there. Reliving this journey in StoryMap form transported me away from the confines of our COVID-19 reality and the isolation of social distancing.

We invite you to share a memorable location...a special place to which you'll return in happier times.

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Photos & Text

Will Hackney

Map/Satellite Imagery

Esri

Batalla de la Alhóndiga de Granaditas Painting

José Diaz del Castillo, 1910

Grand Staircase outside the University of Guanajuato's main building

Courtyard outside the birthplace of José María Morelos. In keeping with the pattern of municipal nomenclature honoring hometown revolutionaries, Valladolid was renamed to Morelia in 1828.

A relief map (left) shows the pockmarks of volcanic cones dotting the northern Michoacán landscape, while satellite imagery of the same extent (right) captures the distinct change in vegetation. Use the slider bar to compare the two views.