It’s the commencement of Christ’s death at Calvary as I arrive in Puebla. The colorful buildings in town overshadow the beggars and the blind, saints and sinners all lining the streets below.
The colonial architecture has a soothing allure, making one feel safe and secure in this Mexican State. We wander along the cobbled streets, listening to the buzz of activity during Holy week.
We find a place to eat that is hidden away from the bustling activity outside, a peaceful veranda that lets us relax for a spell and fill our bellies with delicious food. I go for the mole, of which I’m usually not a fan, but it comes highly recommended.

The only downside is that I misjudge the chicken as I’m cutting myself a piece, and splatter black mole sauce all over my green t-shirt. I laugh though, as no one here cares, they are more focused on saving their souls for eternity.
Back outside, we find a ceramic shop that makes the world famous talavera. It is a unique place and to watch them make the ceramics from the beginning of the process to the final stage is a true wonder of dedication to the craft.
We reach the Zocalo, home of the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception of Mary.
Surrounded by devote followers of the Catholic faith, I hold the hands of strangers as we worship inside, pray for our souls and the less fortunate, and ask for peace in this beautiful world.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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