Queretaro Days

The Traveler

I love to travel to places that most people don’t think of.  Places that people have to look up on a map. These less well known places are typically more “authentic”, with less tourists (like me), and tend to be less expensive too. 

Wherever the destination, I like to stay for a good amount of time so I can get a real feel for a place. My goal is to stay in one place long enough that google maps usage becomes superfluous, and long enough to accumulate favorites, a favorite restaurant, a favorite park, a favorite street.  Depending on the size of the city, staying a week is usually a minimum.  But above all else, I’m a budget traveler.  

Quality & Quantity

That’s not to say that I wouldn’t want to go back to Paris, Bangkok, or Rome, which tend to be expensive and/or tourist meccas. It just takes more finesse to make that happen.

The number one priority and bottom line for any travel is, “How much will this cost?”  How little can I spend so I can stay the longest, while still enjoying myself?  It’s quite the balancing act.  That being said, our accommodations must meet certain criteria to make the cut. 

Where to Sleep: The Essentials List 

Because we are getting older (in our early 60’s), there are some must-haves when selecting lodging.  Ok, being honest, the must-haves are pretty much all about me, but it is what it is.

Here are the six must-haves:

1. Location and price. I’m a bargain hunter, but location trumps all. 
2. A private apartment, as in not-shared, especially in Covid-times. 
3. A private bathroom, although we have made an exception on occasion.  
4. A bedroom door.  I get cranky if I don’t get my sleep, and Steve has been known to get up and read in the middle of the night, and/or get up at 6 am to start making coffee (and noise).  So, yes, a bedroom door is a must.
5. At the very minimum, a refrigerator.  A kitchenette, or preferably a full kitchen, is needed for stays longer than a few days.
6. If there’s more than two flights of stairs, an elevator is required. 

No Way

There will be no dorm style rows of beds filled with twenty and thirty-somethings for us. We will not be staying on the top floor of a six story walk-up. 

And beware that in Mexico, as in most of Europe, what we Americans call the second floor, they call the first floor.  So if you’re renting an apartment advertised on the second floor, you’ll be walking up three flights of stairs, not two. Just so you know.

The Queretaro Apartment

You may have gleaned that I’m a bit anal about all of this travel stuff and I really do my due diligence.  But our Queretaro apartment wasn’t all I had hoped.  The “essentials list” was unintentionally compromised. 

This Bajio trip was canceled and rescheduled three times (due to covid concerns).  I guess somewhere in the rescheduling I wasn’t as careful as usual and we ended up with a less than ideal apartment here in Queretaro. 

I Shouldn’t Complain, But I Will

First I want to say that we had a roof over our head, a decent bed, and a mostly functioning bathroom. So, I get it that the following complaints fall under the “first world problems” category. 

The first problem we noticed, upon entering the apartment, was the kitchen entrance was a bit on the low side. We took bets on how often Steve would clonk his head.  We actually didn’t, but turns out we should have. 

The kitchen entrance is about 4’8” high and 18” deep.  And that low passageway has a substantial beam spanning the 18” depth across the top.  Nice and solid.  Bonk, yep, felt that one (says Steve). I’m 5’3”, so could duck my head without much problem, unless I am wearing a bun.  Again, first world problems.

The Contender

The kitchen was trying hard to actually be a kitchen.  There was an absolute minimum of everything.  Cords draped here, cords pinned there, and a not-very level hot plate for a stove. Plus a very teeny coffee maker.

If we wanted coffee and food at breakfast (the audacity), we had to cook with the coffee maker cord hanging over and across the hot plate which required yoga-like moves on my part to stir and flip the pan contents.  

Our Borderline Unstable Faucet

The water pressure in the sink was a bit scary, like it had a somewhat erratic side to its personality.  Sometimes it came out sweet and calm, other times it would come out downright angry in a huge blast, so forcefully that the faucet would bang and shake. 

We never knew what we were going to get. The noise alone would make me jump back and scream. It was kind of like camping, only not as good.  Here’s the lowdown:

• The one and only cutting knife provided actually bent when I cut mushrooms.  Yes, it was that flimsy. 
• The spatula was plastic and had an apparently long history of being set on the edge of the frying pan, as we all often do with a spatula, so had melted in several places resulting in deep ridges on the surface that was originally smooth.  This made flipping a fried egg, without breaking the yoke, practically impossible.

• No hotpads were provided (as in San Miguel de Allende), so we had to be extra careful when removing something from the microwave.

• No dishtowel was in evidence (also as in San Miguel de Allende), except the Queretaro apartment did include one “reusable” wipe, like the Handiwipes I remember my mom using in the 70’s.  And I’m fairly certain the wipe was not new to us. 
  
  Well, they do say “multi-use” right on the package. Just sayin’.

The Mutant Sponge

Now I realize this is getting really nit-picky, but I just have to add one other kitchen observation. The sponge provided, both here and in San Miguel, is of the lowest sponge quality imaginable.  Basically it didn’t absorb any water.  None at all.  And the “sponge” here in our Queretaro sink was sloppily cut in half, I guess to save on resources, so it was a tiny, little, non-absorbing, sponge wanna-be tool.  

This all made for an arduous breakfast prep and clean-up, but we rose to the occasion and made it work. 

Ready For Take Off

And one last kitchen feature I haven’t mentioned.  About 50% of the very high kitchen ceiling was a skylight type plexiglass, letting in tons of natural light.  The bright light was a lovely idea, but walking into the kitchen was like walking into an oven between noon and 5 pm, with the outside temperature in the high 80’s.  And there’s no air conditioning, in case you were wondering.  

Thankfully there was a huge fan that we made extensive usage of. It was the kind that sounded like an airliner taking off, but it sure pumped a lot of air, so we were ok with the noise. 

Steve says sometimes you get what you pay for, which just sounds like a challenge to me.  I’ll do better next time.

The Budget

Before each trip I do some research and make a spreadsheet with all the costs – the known costs (our accommodations, flights, etc) and my best guesstimates for the unknowns, like food, museums & events, uber costs, etc.  Then I closely track all the spending on my Spending phone app as we go.  It’s almost like a game for me.  I love to beat my budget, when I can.

The Food Allowance

On our current trip through the Bajio region (central Mexico), our food allocation, which I “assign” on my spreadsheet, is $40 a day for the two of us.  

Here in Mexico we’ve been stocking up on eggs, stir-fry vegetables, agua minerale (sparkling water), and craft beer. For our very own evening happy-hour, we’ve also been buying tortilla chips, avocados, red onion, and lime to make guacamole en el Airbnb.  

An average breakfast here, in a mid-range restaurant, costs $10 to $15 for two. The average happy hour with guacamole & drinks would easily cost at least $12 or more. If you go somewhere really nice, which we don’t often do, a margarita can run you $8 to $15 or more, just like home.   

So I figure we’re saving a pretty penny, a penny that can be spent on nice iced coffees at a cafe, a special meal, or a relatively expensive margarita.  Of course there’s always street food (as we Gringos call it), or antojitos, as the Mexicans call it.

Antojitos or “Street Food”

I’m always game for antojitos (street food).  Too often we’re innocently walking along exploring a city and suddenly a heavenly smell hits us, full in the face.  The scent of rich & savory spices dreamily surrounds us.  

If there’s a crowd standing about, carefully shoveling tamales (or tacos, or empanadas, or chalupas, or gorditas, or whatever) into their mouths, and there’s a long line of locals waiting to place their order, that’s when you know it’s a good antojito, one worth trying. 

My interpreter (see last blog post), commonly known as my husband, is much more reluctant than I to eat  antojitos.  But I will admit we ate at three stands that served antojitos in San Miguel (with a little bit of coaxing), so I guess he’s coming along.

The Market

Every town here in Mexico, large or small it seems, has a semi-outdoor type market where local farmers and merchants sell their produce, meat, and wares of all kinds. 

The Mercados also tend to have some of the best local food served at a counter overlooking the prep, or at small tables crowded nearby. 

The market is about a 15 minute walk straight down our street, Manuel Gutierrez Najera.  When leaving our apartment, we turn right and start down a slow, but consistent, descent to the market. So yes, it’s all uphill with our groceries, btw. 

Huevos by the Kilo

A couple of interesting points about the Market.  You buy the exact number of eggs you want and they weigh them on a produce scale to get the cost.  They’re priced per kilogram.  Like how we buy produce at home. Makes sense. Then they put them in a plastic bag for you to carry home.  It’s a little precarious, but eggs are tougher than we think and it works.  

I love buying fresh fruits and veggies directly from the farmers.  I wish we did this at home.  After just a couple of times I can tell how easy it would be to establish a relationship with a particular stand. The sellers are so friendly and really want to help us find what we’re looking for, and of course, make the sale.  It’s one of the easiest transactions as a non-Spanish speaker.  Just point and pay.

Comidas (Meals)

Of course we don’t cook most of our meals.  We found it’s a smart idea to look up any given restaurant we’re considering on Google maps and check the rating. Even if we’re standing in front of said restaurant. 

We enjoyed trying the local specialty negro mole dishes several times. Mole Negro originally hails from Oaxaca, Mexico, and is a complex, deep, smoky, slightly spicy sauce that is made with dried black chilies, allspice, peppercorns, cloves, oregano, a little thyme and a hint of bittersweet chocolate. It’s rich and absolutely delicious.

What Have We Done…

The only, “Oh my God, what have we done??!!” food moment was at a highly recommended restaurant not far from our apartment on Calle 5 de Mayo, Maria y su Bici. 

As I have mentioned, it’s unique to find someone in the Bajio region, including Queretaro, that speaks English. So, of course, we were in winging it mode with our waiter, who was suggesting and explaining things (probably). 

Turns out we ordered rather unique margaritas, not at all like we were expecting. I think it was the first margarita of the trip for both of us, and we had already been in Mexico over two weeks. I was more than ready for a refreshing margarita. 

To the waiter’s credit, he did say the margaritas were made with mezcal. Well, I rarely drink, and definitely don’t know the finer points and what’s-what regarding alcohol, so wholeheartedly agreed.

The Margaritas (from Hell)

Our first clue that something was unique about our anxiously awaited margaritas was that they arrived in bowls. Literally bowls. They were a strange material that we couldn’t make out. Maybe it was some kind of half coconut shell or something, we didn’t know. 

Steve’s main concern at this point, before we had even taken our first sip, was how do they clean those bowls?  Or are they single-use bowls?  We shook off those very legitimate questions, and moved on. 

What’s In These?

It’s hard to explain what our margaritas were like, but I’ll try. Firstly they looked like bowls of liquidy applesauce, kind of a light beigy color with a lump-like substance. They also each had a line of red powder, about an inch wide from edge to edge. Not too appealing to the eye, but delicious food isn’t necessarily pretty (or is it?). 

Anyway, I brought the bowl up to my lips and POW. Apparently there’s more of that red powder on the rim that you can’t see because it almost matches the bowl and that powder is SPICY HOT.  

I’ve never had mezcal, so perhaps that’s what that sickening aftertaste was. Suffice to say, there was mutual agreement that this had been a mistake that shall not be repeated.

Wandering Centro Queretaro 

It’s never a mistake to set out and wander here in Queretaro. When leaving the apartment we typically have a planned destination, but always end up seeing and doing things we happen upon. 

As in the other Bajio region cities we’ve visited, Queretaro has stunning Jardins and Plazas dotted throughout the centro section of the city. Most are a few blocks apart, so you’re never far from a beautifully manicured garden with tall trees providing shade, a fountain and statue, and plenty of seating. 

Scattered among the Jardins are the museums of Queretaro, most of which are small and can be toured in an hour or less. 

The most impressive feature of the museums that we visited was the outstanding Baroque architecture. There were some impressive paintings and ancient handicrafts, but it was the buildings that kept my attention. 

Doorknockers

I remember being in San Miguel de Allende many years ago and being so taken with the magnificent doors that lined the streets.  Those are still there and worthy of admiration, but what stood out in Queretaro were the door knockers. 

What fun to find creative, funny, and even elegant door knockers all over the city. 

Bougainvillea, Ho-Hum

On the hunt for door knockers, we’d invariably see all the beautiful bougainvillea cascading over buildings, doors, and climbing walls- again. Just like in San Miguel and Guanajuato. But, I have to say, it never gets old. Not in the least. 

Why Are We Doing This?

We’ve developed this habit of taking certain items with us from town to town, namely a large bag of tortilla chips and several rolls of toilet paper.

I suppose this developed from the fear of running out of said supplies, so always having a surplus. Yes, we’re weird. 

WINS

A Society That Cares

Covid continues to be taken very seriously here in Queretaro. There’s a chain across restaurant entrances to control the number of patrons.

95% of people wear masks inside and outside all the time, except when eating. And 90% of those are even wearing their mask correctly. Way better than home. 

The vast majority of restaurants, museums, art galleries, etc. take your temperature and give you a squirt of hand sanitizer before you are allowed to enter. Many have a mounted temperature wand, at forehead level, so you position yourself for your reading, get a squirt of sanitizer, and are then seated. 

Fizzy for the Win

I’ve always loved carbonated drinks. I know, I probably am deficient in some critical mineral or something. Anyway, the thrill of my day, every day, was dispensing my refreshing and always fully carbonated water from the miraculous container that had a built-in lever that carbonated on the spot as I pour. Fizzy in full to the very last drop. 

Nuts

The huge bag of candied pecans we purchased for $5 ($100 pesos) from the nut vendor on the street just this side of Plaza de Armas. Lasted the whole week and even through the 3 hour bus ride to Mexico City. Yum. 

LOSSES

The Sprayer

We did the customary temp check and squirt of sanitizer at the entrance to San Miguelito restaurant in the heart of Queretaro centro. 

The hostess then grabbed a rather large device consisting of a several gallon base and a long wand with a sprayer at the end. She led us towards our table. 

The device is what we at home call a yard sprayer, commonly used for insecticide. When she arrived at our table she lifted the wand and swung it to and fro whilst letting about a generous spray of whatever was in that container. She was sure to get the entire table, decorative plates and all. Ohhhhhh myyyyy. Is this stuff safe?  Just don’t ask. 

The Wedding Party

Friday afternoon a huge group checked-in to maybe 4 of the apartments surrounding us on all sides. They appeared to be an extended family group consisting of many adults, a fair number of toddlers and young kids, along with their dog, Lucky. 

I saw some of the men carrying in garment bags that would typically house a suit and asked them (using Google translate) if they were here for a wedding, and indeed they were. How fun. 

Friday night the kids ran wild (I mean free), playing with the only “toy” they could find in the courtyard we all shared, the empty 5 gallon water bottles. 

The huge, empty, thick plastic bottles make kind of a loud thumping and banging sound when they are tossed, rolled into things, or thrown at another child. Kind of like drums being played by someone with no rhythm. This went on until after 11 pm. I kept thinking, “Don’t these kids need to be in bed?”  

The next morning, all was fun and festive. The women had hired someone to come in and do their makeup and hair. Eventually they all headed off to the wedding in the late afternoon. 

You may think “the loss” was the drumming, but you’d be wrong. The loss, which I’m finally getting to, was later that night after the wedding. The whole crew came home and drank, laughed, and visited in our shared courtyard, just outside our open window, until 2:49 am. I thought about getting up and shutting the window, but our apartment doesn’t cool down much and it was already a bit hard to sleep. 

On the up side, none of them got up before 10 am, even the kids, so we were able to sleep in a bit. All in the life of a traveler.