There is an English language newspaper published once a week.
I do not like this hotel. I've moved from paradise to the catacombs. It's a huge hotel, and I suppose it's as luxurious as any luxury hotel in Los Vegas, Los Angeles or anywhere else one might find a four or five star hotel.
It is a huge hotel in a little Mexican town. Somewhere along the way, I believe in the 1930's, it was decided that San Miguel was special and artists, writers, teachers and various other sorts flocked here.
It is difficult driving in these old Mexican towns. At one point what I truly dreaded came to fruition. I found myself at a dead end with cars parked on both sides it was impossible for me to turn around, and I don't have the depth perception to back up for a block or so.
I asked a man standing on the street if he could help. Above him, on the second floor was an American who looked like he got lost in the 6o's, an aged hippie type who appeared to still be on some sort of drug induced trip.
The Mexican moved his car, turned my car around and everything turned out just fine.
I don't really like San Miguel. I don't dislike it either. I think I'll leave early, drive down the highway and find the true, non-tourist Mexico before catching the plane tomorrow afternoon.