An idyllic winter refuge against New England’s snow and ice: this is the casita which we rented for a month in San Miguel de Allende, a charming colonial city in the highlands north of Mexico City. It’s the kind of place where Americans come for the first time, and after a week or so, are calling real estate agents to inquire about the market, and dream of changing their lives. Many actually do.
The name of the street on which we lived was 28 de abril. How could anyone resist?
The facade drips with magenta bougainvillea, and behind the door is a courtyard with palms and more bright flowers. I thought that the wonderful street name, 28 de abril, commemorated some momentous Mexican holiday, but no, it was the builder’s birthday. (Or so it was said.)