So many Google searches start with how to you get from Y to Z and some Forum such as Trip Advisor provide answers.
I am about to take a cruise from Rome to Singapore and wanted to know how to get from the Port of Kusadasi to Ephesus. The answer was local buses.
This is what I am sure most of fellow travelers think the local bus will look like.
In fact I would suggest that the reason many people coming to San Miguel arrange pick up at the airport in Mexico City direct to San Miguel is to avoid riding the local bus.
I am the third person on the left, second row on this bus that runs from Queretaro to San Miguel.
Inspiration for new Gangs in San Miguel more often than not come one’s past and from memories of youth.
Who can forget Sally Field as the Flying Nun?
Come to think of it, not sure why she could fly nor how you could build a whole series around either a nun or someone who could fly and even worse both. But on second thought, life in San Miguel have been built around even less.
Here is the Flying Nun of San Miguel walking down the street.
She has not quite mastered the flying part nor the nun part but she did find a hat in the Mercado.
Every day, she hopes the Magic of San Miguel will work and she will be lifted off the ground.
Today she is trying a new technique to achieve lift off. She is putting down her shopping bag because she thinks it is weighing her down.
It is not going to work because she hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that Sally Field was not really a nun nor could she fly.
But dreams are what keeps San Miguel so magical. So every day, she will put on her Flying Nun hat and hope that today will be that day where she becomes famous.
If ever you see a man shopping in the women’s section you know the clothes are for him not his wife.
So when you see a man dressed like this, you know he has no wife. You also know he isn’t gay. No gay man would dress like that.
So here you go ladies a single straight man in San Miguel.
I have been thinking of San Miguel the last few days. Preparing for my return January 30, 2012. So I opened up my blog and the first post that popped up grabbed me and sent me back to my youth.
In the early sixties I remember holding a beatnik party at my house.
We all dressed up like Beatniks and read poetry and pretended we were smoking.
We all said ” strictly dullsville” and ” Daddy-O”
We were cool.
I might have made that V peace sign with my fingers once.
I did listen to the Mommas and the Poppas.
I did paint flowers on a boat my parents had.
But eventually that all went away and I became a parent.
No will look strangely at you when you say “Hey Man”.
In fact no one will look strangely at you no matter what you wear, or smoke.
Hey Man, Peace.
Come to San Miguel de Allende.
You can hang out here.