A Slow Train Ride

Jane’s interesting train-journey memoir has prompted me to write about one of my many memorable train trips.

It is August of l969. A few days earlier, three space travelers had landed on the moon. We were an entirely different type of traveler. Jean and I were on our honeyMOON in Mexico.

After a week in Mexico City, we found ourselves at a downtown train station, boarding a train for San Miguel de Allende, a five-to-six- hour trip. This was no high-speed bullet train. It was a slow, very hot, open-window train, where every stop (and there were so many of them) was a cultural experience one couldn’t get from just reading about it in our Frommer’s “Mexico on $10 a Day.”

Remember this is 1969. Our hotel in Mexico City was about six dollars a night. I think Jean was wondering what kind of husband would plan a trip like this. It turned out to be one of those unforgettable experiences.

I hadn’t asked the travel agent whether this was a first-class train. I think it was a third-class train. I don’t think we recognized any tourists or non-Mexicans on board.

Jean and I do not speak Spanish. I did know “caliente” and, indeed, our coach was very hot, even with the windows open. We soon understood the need for open windows. At each stop, throngs of hawkers descended on the train, selling everything from cold drinks, tacos, and live chickens through the open windows. This happened at every stop, and as I mentioned earlier, there were many, many stops.

Families of every description possible entered, stayed a while with kids everywhere, and then departed at another stop along the way. But, as Jean and I observed in Mexico City, Mexicans are wonderful parents, so the kids were not unruly but great fun to watch. We could wave and smile, but that was the extent of our communication.

After four hours of this kaleidoscope of humanity on a torturously slow train, I began to wonder whether we would ever reach San Miguel.

Finally, after about five hours sitting on hard wooden seating (no upholstery in sight), we arrived in beautiful San Miguel de Allende, one of the most picturesque cities I have ever visited, with cobblestone streets everywhere, open doors to exquisite courtyards with peacocks strolling around, and wonderful artisans with interesting shops.

Jean and I bought a handmade tray with detachable legs that we lugged around for the next ten days in Mexico. We still have that decorative tray that is a reminder of our train trip in the heart of Mexico.

There were anti-American demonstrations against our involvement in the Vietnam War during our stay in San Miguel. One night we decided to change our plans to go to the church square for dinner because the demonstrators were in that area, and we looked so American with our travel guides, sunglasses, and cameras slung around our necks. But these are stories for another time.

We took a bus from San Miguel to Guadalajara.

Copyright © 2025 by Curt Mortenson