We’d been looking forward to visiting San Cristóbal de Casas since we landed in Mexico last month. By all accounts it’s a place of rare beauty, set in a small valley of the Central Highlands region of Chiapas with more baroque, neoclassical and moorish architecture and cultural attractions than you can shake a stick at.
Impressive views from one of the town's many hills.
Cathedral on the main square. Note the hoardings preventing anyone from entering.
Sadly, it falls a long way short of our expectations. Recent earthquakes mean many of the grander civic buildings and all the churches are closed (and I mean all of them, we couldn’t find a single place to pop in for a kneel down). It’s a lot scruffier than Oaxaca, Cholula or even Mexico City and the people seem to lack the joie de vivre that we’ve become used to. I don’t know, maybe we caught the town on a bad day, but it doesn’t float our boat.
Our accommodation is a quirky combination of rustic colonial charm and shabby chic. A converted hacienda with all the trappings that go with it; pot-bellied stoves in every room, huge High Chaperral style beds, waggon wheel tables and lots of mismatched art hanging on the walls.
We had a pre-Raphaelite angel watching over us as we slept last night. Which was nice. I hope she didn’t notice that we’d skipped prayers earlier.
Unfortunately this particular hacienda isn’t on a thousand acre ranch in the wilds of Wyoming, it’s smack bang in the middle of the roughest part of town. Which is probably why it's so cheap.
Three nights was the plan for San Cristóbal, we decide to cut our losses and leave after one.
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