Cuernavaca for beginners

We had absolutely gorgeous weather for our first full day here - and I meant to add something to the previous post. So we arrived in Cuernavaca on November 2, which is the day the events took place in Under the Volcano (by Malcolm Lowry) which is set in Cuernavaca. I love that chiming.

Marc and I differ a lot about morning things. I love to linger over a very good cup (or pot) of coffee, he makes a slurry of instant coffee in enough hot tap water to dissolve it and then he tosses it back as fast as he can (because it tastes as awful as you'd think it would). Breakfast is my very favorite meal of the day, and my favorite meal to eat out. Marc doesn't eat breakfast. But when we're on vacation, we do eat breakfast together, and I do linger over my coffee, and often we eat at our hotel if we've read that their breakfast is particularly good. We especially love breakfasts that are deeply of the place; when we were in Myanmar, in Nyaung Shwe, the special Myanmar breakfast was so great we still talk about it.

But you never know. Sometimes it's local fruit and yogurt with granola and bread. In southeast Asia, quite often there are a couple of pieces of sweaty lunch meat on the plate, maybe a weenie. I had high hopes for our breakfast here at Orchidelerium, and wow. I'm not at all sure what it was, because we speak too little Spanish and remarkably the wait staff speaks not one single word of English, but we are brave eaters and today we were greatly rewarded. Again: no idea what it was. We think the sauce around it was bean-focused, not a mole.

There were three tortillas rolled around (we think) mushrooms, and on top, crema and cheese, and (we think)
a bean sauce. However it may look, I swear to all that's Mexican-sacred IT WAS DELICIOUS.

Especially with lots and lots of this spooned on top.

on the breakfast patio

beautiful, clear blue skies and gorgeous temps

the walkway to our room, which is on the second floor

After breakfast we set out to wander our way to the zocalo area, which included the large cathedral and the Palace of Cortes. I'm not entirely sure we knew that when we headed out? We may have simply been looking for a zocalo-ish area, and definitely for a market, which is always our jam. The neighborhood we walked through from our hotel was just so beautiful; here, the houses are fortresses on the street, with large doors and a buzzer, but inside it's like a paradise. Often there are giant forests of bougainvillea draping over the homes, and many of the exteriors are painted in brilliant and sunny colors. An unexpected thing was that they seem to like to prune small trees in topiary fashion. That reminded me a lot of San Francisco, especially because we were also walking straight up hill.

a short, private street

such a beautiful blue!

bougainvilleas up down and all around

the only pink house I saw; most were deep yellows, saturated oranges, and vivid blues

see what I mean?

Somehow (maybe a first for us) we ended up exactly where we wanted to go, and without getting lost and frustrated. Since the Day of the Dead was Nov 1-2, Thursday and Friday, all the decorations were still up, and they seemed to be having a festival today.

Marc waiting patiently while I take pictures everywhere

giant building-sized masks

girl, ME TOO

Actually, the girl was just sitting down on the bench so her friend could take a
picture of her sitting next to this skeleton(? Is there an actual word for this?), but
I caught it at such an angle and in such a moment that it looks like something
else is happening and it makes me LAUGH SO HARD.

The cathedral was cathedraly, and the cathedral grounds were landscaped and beautiful, and the Palace of Cortes was under construction and not open, so we whizzed past with a nod and a wave. We wandered through the narrow streets lined with artisans, and then through the stalls and booths of artisans set up next to the Palace of Cortes, and it was so wonderful to see the women sitting behind their tables making more of what they were selling. Hand embroidering dresses, making lace, stitching and sewing and knotting, heads down. I really loved that. We sat in the shady zocalo for a while but a young guy was shouting religious stuff so loudly -- and he was hoarse, so it was even more unpleasant -- that we didn't linger too long. We walked back to our hotel (mostly downhill thank heavens) and took a long, long siesta complete with snoring.

Marc always identifies several excellent restaurants for us, after doing lots of research, reading endless reviews on the various sites, and mapping them to see where they are in relation to our hotel. He had a short list of one very near the hotel (the one we'd planned to go to the night we arrived), and one a longer walk, but with slightly better reviews. We set out for the longer walk and once again, walked directly there without getting lost or frustrated. They opened at 5:30 and we got there shortly afterwards, but unfortunately the plancha (grill, I believe) wasn't ready and the al pastor set-up wouldn't be ready for at least half an hour. I got a Bohemia (dark, yum) and Marc got a limonada and we cooled our heels and enjoyed the scenery. Marc and I both planned to get several tacos al pastor, we were going to share some queso fundido with chorizo. AND the waiter could not have been kinder. My Spanish goes like this: buenos dias, cerveza, buenos noches, taco, hola, gracias, and muchas gracias. I can understand more than I can speak, but it's really just that in the stream of Spanish I usually can pick out a single word and I repeat that back and we build on it. I told the darling waiter that I don't speak Spanish, un poquito solamente, and he spoke more slowly but still it was a stream of fast, unintelligible words to me. I couldn't get the tacos al pastor but I'd had a Plan B: a torta cubana, which I announced proudly to him. Then he started saying something that seemed like a warning and then he started listing off all the kinds of meats and then he asked if it was OK, so Marc and I decided to split one. And the queso fundido and one order of chicken tacos, and the order was in.

It was the most amazing food. We both agreed that it was the best meal we'd had in a restaurant in such a long time we can't even remember the last time. That torta, just sublime, so so so so good. The chicken tacos were delicious, tiny little corn tortillas and a trio of salsas and limes to squeeze. The queso came with four large, hot tortillas, which we just made into queso tacos.

teeny tiny little chicken tacos SO GOOD

But the torta cubana was the clear star of the show and OH MY GOD I want another. We're thinking about
going back there tomorrow night for dinner.

decor, heavy on Day of the Dead stuff, which here includes Halloween. :)

super good salsas

So our first day was heavy on walking (21,000 steps!), heavy on delicious, amazing food, and heavy on lovely homes and neighborhoods with bougainvillea and flowers everywhere. What a great day.