When we pulled the kids out of school… almost two years ago now… they could identify fewer than a dozen trees and plants, but they could name HUNDREDS of corporate logos.
Things are different now.
Ok… so the full name is La Parroquia de la Purisima Concepcion. It’s been the center of Alamos for about three hundred years and is obviously quite beautiful. The stonework on the inside alone is breathtaking (yes, they even let ME inside).
But it’s much more than a geographic center. Everyone that we’ve talked to here has an important moment in their life that’s tied to it. A wedding. A funeral. A baptism. A social event. One of the key battles in the Mexican Revolution was even fought right outside the church in the Plaza de Armas.
LA PARROQUIA DE LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION
It’s a really cool place… in more ways than one. You can duck out of the mid day heat and sit inside for hours contemplating the symbols that surround you. I’m trying to talk the priest into giving me a tour and taking me up in the bell tower.
I’ll Let you know if it works out.
The kids and I were out exploring the town. And a cowboy… lo siento, I mean a vaquero… rides up to us on this horse. We all exchanged greetings and had a brief conversation. Then we watched him ride over to the beer store, grab two empty bottles for exchange (you trade in your empty ones for full ones here) from his saddlebag, and walk inside.
I mean… of course… when you’re outta beer, just hop on old Gus and shoot on over to the store… right? I flashed back to childhood memories of all the times that I snuck out of my room late at night to watch Clint set the west straight… it was a happy memory. And then we all imagined me making a beer run… on horseback… in the heart of Silicon Valley. We got quite the laugh out of that one.
No… we weren’t laughing at the mule… I mean… horse.
With all this talk about ghosts in Alamos, the kids and I decided to see if we could scare some up… or should I say be scared by some… on our own. Alamos has a really creepy old cemetery and a full moon was coming. If ever a ghost was to be found… this was the night. We walked the road of mostly vacant houses that leads to the cemetery as the sun set, doing our best to scare each other along the way. But it was the crazy mexi-dogs that came barking and snarling out of the darkness that did the most scaring.
We got there just as the moon was rising. We sat and waited like Charlie Brown waiting for the Great Pumpkin. At one point we heard some rustling… and scratching. Surely one of the dead was raising. Our tension meters rose as we investigated and… then… as we closed in on the noise… a cat jumped up on a headstone and tore off into the darkness. “Holy Ship,” Wyatt exclaimed… bouncing up and down and shaking his hands.
And that was that. No ghosts… just a cool photo.
It was a beautiful evening. Sancho, the proprietor of a local pension and I sat under one of the portales… the tall covered, arched, walkways that Alamos is famous for… sharing a cold beer. We were quietly looking over the Plaza de Armas and the Parroquia de la Concepcion Purisima… the picturesque cathedral that sits at one side of the plaza. Sancho was regaling me with colorful accounts of the towns history. He looked down at my camera. “This is such a wonderful place to take pictures… may I see yours senor”? I turned on the camera and handed it to him. Returning my attention to daily life in the plaza.
Minutes passed. “Oh Dios mio”! I heard him quietly exclaim. I looked to him… he was looking at my camera with disbelief on his face. “You have seen the lady in white”. It was both a question and a statement. He slowly handed my camera back to me regarding me with what I took to be a great deal of sincerity as he did so. “It appears that Alamos has special feelings for your family,” he said. “The Lady doesn’t show herself to outsiders”.
Sensing my confusion he explained rather poetically, “She died of a broken heart many, many years ago… when streets here were lined with silver and love was built on stolen glances”. “Now she wonders the streets in search of her lover whose life was taken by her disapproving father”. He took a long sip of his Pacifico and looked into the distance. “She is in your picture senor”.
Unable to tell if he was pulling my leg or not… I sat quietly waiting for him to reveal the joke. But the reveal never came. The last image that Sancho viewed is the one above.
So… do you believe in ghosts?
The tallest building in Guaymas isn’t dedicated to commerce, and it’s not a rules building… it’s a church. That should tell you a lot about the town. More…
San Carlos is just far enough into Mexico to feel exotic, but not far enough for the country to truly reveal it’s charms. More…
As a general rule we try to avoid RV parks. They’re expensive. The rigs are big… really big. The spaces are close together. The average age is high and isn’t overly welcoming of children. We just don’t fit. More…
Out of campground early… check.
Refueled, repeso’d, and back at the border before 11:00… check. More…