I fell in love with Taxco. It is a splendid place, a colonial
antique unmarred by suburbs or industrialization. This is partly because
the entire village is a national historic monument, and partly because there
is simply no room for growth. The town straddles an impossible topography
of steep hillsides. The Zocalo, small as it is, is the only flat place
around. On a given day, the town is bustling with tourists and the
attendant curio and gum hawkers. The secret is to stay the night.
The last bus rolls out of Taxco at around 4 in the afternoon. Then
the day trippers are gone, most of the hawkers decamp and the town settles
into a much quieter mode. When the lights come on at night with countless
stars above, it becomes truly magical.
A happy side effect of Taxco's situation is that stunning views are afforded at nearly every turn. More often than not, these views feature the Templo de Santa Prisca, a treasure of baroque architecture and a great example of Churrigueresque art (a spanish architectural style dominated by elaborate surface decoration). Seen from near or far, this cathedral never failed to stop me in my tracks.
This turns out to be one of my favorite photos. These boys insisted that I take their picture. Something about the setting, and the pride evident in their faces pleases me.
Dogs are like pigeons in Mexico. They are everywhere and generally are none too interested in human contact. This one had set up camp in a doorway and could barely be bothered to raise its head. Sadly it represents one of the healthier canine specimens I saw. Both eyes were intact and its coat was complete.
The streets in Taxco really are
that steep, by the way.
Terrace, Before a Storm, Taxco