SAN CRISTOBAL 2

The day started with a visit to the Cathedral, San Nicholas, which was imposing in the manner I’m becoming used to.  Part of the complex contained a much smaller church which was very simple in character.  However, the main cathedral had wonderful white painted columns and walls which together with a wooden ceiling, ameliorated the tendency towards over- elaboration in the ornamentation towards something more acceptable. 

Despite it being Sunday the streets were thronged with people and all the shops were open for business.  Somehow, I wasn’t expecting this.

A quick visit to some shops set a base level for prices in the artisan market that was my next point of call.  The market was set up around the Temple of Santa Domino where a Mass was in full swing with pretty much a full house.  So, not everyone was involved in trade.  The service was moving towards the communion when I got there and to my surprise, the Peace was accomplished largely by a serious shaking of hands; all very British in its way.

My transactions on the market reached a point where a price was agreed but I had insufficient money, so I got the girl to put the goods on one side and indicated that I would go to the bank for the money. 

Another task I’d set myself for the day was to photograph the colourful costumes and street traders in action so I was gone for quite some time.  When I returned and gave the girl the agreed sum of money, she gave me the most enormous smile, crossed herself with the sign of the cross and produced the item.  Even if the goods are actually worthless I feel that the money was well spent.  Most of the traders on the market were busy sewing, threading stuff and generally still finishing off the goods on sale, so I am happy that anything spent here went to authentic products and people who need the money.

The streets were full of women carrying textile products and soliciting for their sale.  The males tended to be more static, selling sweets or offering shoe-shining or other services.  One thing I’d not seen before was a little boy sitting by a set of bathroom scales.  To my surprise, I did see on man mount he scales and give the boy some money.

After a break, I headed up the road past the hotel towards the Temple of Guadaloupe, set high on a hill.  Within two blocks it became very quiet to the point where conversation inside the houses could be heard.  I’m becoming frustrated by my lack of Spanish but I am gradually hearing more and more and trying to speak it in shops.  It is disappointing how much of the meagre vocabulary learned in my Spanish Class two years ago seems to have evaporated.  It is significant to my mind, that the central area is actually so small in relation to the population of the city.  In England a city of 166,000 would have a much larger business area.  The temple, when I got here was very elaborate with patterned tiled floors and lots of flowers and statuary.  The altar was highly decorated and the painting of the Virgin behind the altar even had sequencing party lights flowing around it!  Outside, the views over the city were spectacular.

I made my way back via a parallel street where one shop had a massive grill roasting chicken and loads of vegetables.  Authentic cuisine?

No.  Mexican Fast Food, with a queue as well although my photograph seems to have failed on this count. 

Elsewhere there were some restaurants too small to qualify as they had only two or three tables and only a hand painted or written sign to signify their purpose.

Another thing I’ve noticed on Mexico is the sheer amount of litter despite the many warning signs – ‘No Tirar Basuras’ and here in San Cristobal, people employed in clearing up the mess.

Back near the hotel I spotted Mauricio enjoying beer and joined him for one.  The arrival of Belinda and Hayley established that I’d missed a corner of the town so I set off for the Temple del Cerrito de San Cristobal, which sat even higher on a hill.  When I got there it was locked, but behind the church was a set of public exercise machines so the area is well used and one would think the church would be open. 

From this vantage point I spotted another imposing Blue and white painted church but, on getting there, I found this to be locked as well.  Clearly, locked churches are not an entirely European phenomena.

Back at the hotel I met the challenge of writing postcards when most of the available space is obliterated by the stamps and found a quiet place for supper before retiring early.  Tomorrow we head off to Palenque, where it will be both hot and humid.  Time to break out the bug spray!