Traveling between cities in Mexico we always take the ETN first class busses. They are prompt, affordable and very comfortable. All the seats are reserved / assigned and about the size of a first class seat on an airplane with leg rests that extend out like grandpa’s recliner.




The terrain around Guadalajara is semiarid and mountainous with miles of ancient stone walls that extend into the far distance. The dried grasses are soft shades of beige with pink overtones.




As we approach Morelia the landscape becomes greener with taller trees. Morelia is the capital of the state of Michoacán, adjacent to the sate of Jalisco.


 

The rows of distant mountains, tinted by the atmosphere, turn shades of light blue. Their smooth profiles seem to blend with the sky. In the foreground smoke rises where the farmers are burning fields in preparation for plowing and planting a new year’s crop.




In Morelia we stayed at the historic Hotel de la Soledad. The central courtyard is filled with a lush garden and a central fountain. On the old stone walls scarlet and orange bougainvillea vines climb the two-storied arched cloister showing gaudy colors against a clear blue sky. One block from La Soledad is the Plaza de Armas which is at the center of the city. There the ancient cathedral flanks one side of the plaza dominating the area with soaring Baroque bell towers, 66.8 meters high, with a dome covered with blue and white ceramic tiles crowning the transept. The cathedral was built between 1660 and 1744.

There is an impressive collection of antique carriages at La Soledad that stand on the broad arcades at the patio level and also on the second floor. You can imagine travelers of a bygone era with their well groomed horses trotting along the stone paved roads of central Morelia.




Just inside the solid doors of La Soledad is a closed carriage parked as if waiting for an elegant lady in long sweeping skirts to go pay calls on her neighbors. At the center of the garden courtyard a delicate fountain sprays graceful plumes of water adding a soothing splashing sound echoing in the shaded corners.




This is one of the old bell towers of the Cathedral around the corner from La Soledad. Some of the antique bells are six feet tall and weigh a couple of tons each. They toll the hours and announce the services celebrated inside the Cathedral as they have for hundreds of years. The sonorous bell tones reverberate in the spacious court yard of our hotel making the birds that live in the tangled Bougainvillea vines, respond with worrying chatter.




Within the Federal Palacio are a series of arched courtyards of different sizes. Upon entering the complex the first courts are of monumental size. Each individual area is a carefully considered and perfectly proportioned architectural composition. This side court was a smaller and more intimate space and you can almost hear the delightful splashing of the central fountain where doves dipped their bills for a refreshing drink and Poinsettia plants splashed bright scarlet color onto the white walls that are trimmed with buff colored stone.





The exterior of the Federal Palacio stretches an impressive length along the Avenida Madero which is the main street of the historic district. In the distance can be seen the tower and dome of the Church of Santa Catalina de Siena.




This is the Tarascas Fountain depicting three Purepecha women carrying an enormous basket filled with the bounty of the land. Although the beauties here shown are bare-breasted the actual Purepecha people, both men and women, are modest, dignified and reserved in their demeanor. This great fountain is at the Plaza Villalongin where the aqueduct enters the city.




Morelia’s aqueduct dates from 1785 and is 1,810 meters long with 253 arches. Here the handsome masonry frames a blooming Jacaranda tree.




Traffic is a reality of our era and Mexico has a constant stream of zippy vehicles dashing all over the place. The aqueduct makes a statement of stability and history against all this kinetic frenzy



This monumental equestrian statue of Father José María Morelos y Pavón was erected in 1913. Father Morelos was, of course, one of the great heroes of Mexico’s war for independence from Spain and a much beloved symbol of the ultimate freedom fighter. In addition to being an ordained Catholic priest he was also a successful general and his campaigns criss-crossed across central Mexico from 1810 until 1815 when he was executed by a Spanish firing squad.



Father Morelos is portrayed at the center of revolutionary energy in this powerful mural decorating the main stair hall of the Morelia Palacio de Justicia. The city of Morelia is the capital of the state of Michoacan and is named after Morelos




Symbols and expressions of justice and liberty are ever present in the government buildings of Mexico. Here is Blind Justice gracing the central fountain of the school of law in Morelia.




Also at the law school is this mural of Justice with eyes wide open but instead of a sword this time she offers a beautiful rose in her open hand.




Families are strong and prolific in Mexico. Everywhere you look there are kids with their parents, grand parents aunts, uncles and cousins. Morelia is a conservative community and the children of all ages are in school in uniforms. On our last visit to Morelia there were festivals and marches celebrating exam time and students from all the surrounding communities were marching proudly in downtown Morelia. The University of Morelia is in the center of the city so you also see college students everywhere. On Sundays families come to events in the historic district and also to shop. Everyone ends up strolling around the fountains and under the shade trees in Plaza de Armas, the beautifully tended park which is the center of the city. Families and friends visit and play.




Every where I look in Mexico I am delighted to see young fathers spending time with their children. Some of the fathers don’t look more than teenagers to me and maybe that’s a good thing too. It must take a lot of energy to be so attentive to the toddlers. I see fathers in close contact with their kids; holding hands, embracing, talking and generally having a good time. Moms are, of course, also in evidence but in the United States I don’t see as many fathers engaged with their young children. In Mexico this is true with all classes of people even the poorest Dads have a wee one cuddled up within a protective embrace.




Now, this place I call the wedding cake church. Part of the reason is that I have seen non stop weddings performed here back to back all day long. The other reason I say wedding cake is that the interior is seemingly made from colored frosting. Although the outside structure dating from the 18th century has a simple baroque style the inside was decorated by a Michoacan artist, Joaquin Orta and is completely over the top The real name of the church is Templo de Guadalupe and abundant images of Juan Diego and the Virgin are depicted around the church. The Virgin of Guadalupe is the patron saint of Mexico and as such she is ubiquitous. I even bought a baseball cap with the Virgin and her roses embroidered in Technicolor brightness. Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin, his last name means “talking Eagle” in Nahuatl, was an indigenous Indian living near Mexico City. He saw a vision of the Virgin In 1531 and she asked him to build an abbey at that site, the hill at Tepeyac. But when Juan told the Spanish bishop, Juan de Zumárraga, the bishop asked Juan for a miraculous sign to prove his claim. The Virgin instructed Juan to look for flowers, even though it was winter. Juan found some and gathered them together in his cloak. They were Castillian roses and when he presented these to the Bishop the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe miraculously appeared imprinted on the cloth. I love depictions of spiritual revelations of all kinds and especially of the Mary, whom I call the Goddess. I especially love The Virgin of Guadalupe because any vision of the Goddess in a shower of roses is my kind of hallucination. I don’t mean that irreverently although yes I laugh when I think of it, but I am laughing with the excitement of such beauty.




You can begin to see what I mean about this place. This view is looking up at the dome over the transept. The exaggerated three D sculpture painted with scintillating color is on the razor edge of kitsch and yet it is really beautiful in an naïve way, like an old fashioned merry-go-round.
 



The execution of the plaster work is flawlessly crafted and perfectly painted and the whole ensemble is as fresh as overblown summer flowers.
 



I could just scream with delight looking at this ceiling!




The doors of Mexico are a constant joy to behold and I take tons of photos of them. The central medallions of leaf men are traditional in Morelia and although these doors are fairly new the same motif is seen all over the city. Note the hand-wrought iron handles in the form of dogs with twisted bodies and curling tails. They also act as knockers and are hinged at the top legs by their tails and you knock with the head end. The door is, of course, all hand joined and hand carved.




A cast iron door knocker with an especially lively looking fellow with flowing tresses. The antique wood has been cleaned and varnished, showing its graining.
 



Some fellow tourists I met up with were asking me why Cervantes was so popular in Mexico. I really hadn’t a clue although I know there is an annual Cervantes festival in Guanajuato, I wasn’t aware of an enthusiasm for the author. I did suggest that because Mexico is such a literate country they probably claim Cervantes as a literary treasure just as we in the United States consider Shakespeare part of our literary heritage. Whatever the reason, books and reading are a big part of Mexican life and here is an interesting hand painted mosaic of a man reading that decorates a school in Morelia. Perhaps all the fanciful swirls, creatures and crowds of people are from stories that he is reading in his book.




I was so impressed by this detailed bronze relief that I forgot to note who the man was. I was more intrigued by his wizened head emerging from a book which forms his collar. At the bottom of the sculpture there is a dipping pen and an old fashioned bottle of ink so I assume the subject was a writer. Anyway he fits the book theme and I thought he had an interesting face. Can anyone identify our mystery writer?