First Person
Quixotic and Quaint
The tilting hillside town of Guanajuato offers panoramic views into its storied past.
As soon as I arrive in Guanajuato, I have the urge to go to the ridge above, to look down on the winding streets and alleys making up this Mexican town with almost no straight lines. I need to take it easy at this altitude, so I buy a ticket for the funicular railway that climbs the steep mountain to a huge stone statue of Pipila, a local hero who struck a blow against the Spanish rulers in this hotbed of revolutionary activity.In later years Guanajuato took on other claims to fame: hometown of painter Diego Rivera, home of former president Vicente Fox, lively college town and host to a major arts festival each year. What draws me here, however, is the cool mountain climate and pedestrian-friendly atmosphere of this UNESCO World Heritage city.
After admiring the panorama of brightly painted houses perched on hills and grand churches near the center, I descend on foot through a maze of alleys and stairs, occasionally catching a peek inside a house when someone exits. Apart from a few barking dogs, it’s a peaceful walk. Most of the automobile traffic runs through a maze of tunnels underneath the city — originally built to divert floodwaters and later enlarged so the streets above could keep their original dimensions.
This is not a city of sedentary, car-loving couch potatoes. It’s hard to turn around in any plaza without seeing half a dozen people eating ice cream or some kind of street snack, but all get their daily exercise whether they want it or not. Just getting home from the butcher shop or tortilla store is a workout. Each morning I hear the calls of “Agua!” from the drinking water delivery man and “Gas!” from the propane tank delivery man, who must haul their wares up the stairs and ramps by hand and dolly.
City planners have taken the natural advantages of the topography and beautiful architecture and added their own twists to make the city still more attractive. Ornate iron benches and potted shrubs fill even the smallest plazas, and terra-cotta pots of geraniums line the stairs and car ramps leading down to the tunnels. Street signs on the sides of buildings are made of stone or glazed clay.
Every evening when I stroll through the main Jardín de Unión plaza, a band is playing in the gazebo: salsa, chamber music or even Sousa marches played by a brass band and flutes. At night a group of students dressed in the garb of 17th-century Spain parades through the streets and back alleys, playing minstrel music and telling jokes to a crowd that has paid to join the party.
I have dinner one night in an outdoor restaurant with Tony Cohan, a resident novelist and travel writer who has penned several books about Mexico. “This is a great city for a writer,” he says. “There are interesting scenes and characters almost everywhere you look.”
