This is our fourth day in Alamos and we find we're more relaxed and more alive each day. Mexico is such a feast for all the senses. We wake up to the sound of birdsong and the tang of woodsmoke on the cool air. A couple of hours later, the sun is warm on our shoulders and we're tasting fresh squeezed orange juice or mango. As we walk along the cobbled streets we're dazzled with the riotous reds and magentas of bouganvillia spilling over the whitewashed walls. Everywhere there are sounds of kids laughing, roosters crowing, dogs barking, motors and occasionally the reverb Spanish of the roving advertising cars. People smile and greet us, and the scent of lemon blossom wafts over the cow dung smell. At midday, walking in the shade, we peek through the wrought iron gates into the courtyards with fountains and palm trees and patio furniture.
The pace of life here is languorous. People drift into town and then back again with their purchases from the market, the truck comes by to deliver the fresh water jugs, a man with a donkey unloads firewood, the dogs wander by on their patrol, and the gringos chat and trade tips on where to head to next. I'll stop now--as I don't want to make you too, too jealous. Probably we'll get tired of it sometime, but it won't be for a while. There are people who come here for six months of every year. It's a magical spot and we're so glad we found it.
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