Tzintzuntzan

I took the combi from Pátzcuaro on a Tuesday morning, fifteen minutes along the lake road, and stepped out onto a quiet main street lined with vendors selling straw figures and black clay. What struck me first was the scale of the place against its size — a town of a few thousand people with pyramids on the hill, a convent large enough to lose yourself in, and the flat silver surface of Lake Pátzcuaro stretching south. Tzintzuntzan was the capital of an empire that stretched across western Mexico, and the Spanish, when they arrived, chose to build right beside it rather than over it. That decision is the reason you can still see both.

The Yácatas

The ceremonial platform above town holds five yácatas — rectangular bases topped with circular structures, each one faced in fitted stone. The Purépecha built them between the 14th and 16th centuries, and unlike Teotihuacán or Monte Albán, there are almost no crowds here. I walked the platform in the late afternoon when the light came in low from the west and the lake went copper below. You can see Janitzio island from up there, and on a clear day the volcanoes line the horizon. The site is managed by INAH and costs a small entry fee; the small on-site museum has carved stone pieces and a clear account of the Purépecha kingdom, which resisted Aztec expansion right up until the Spanish arrived. Take your time. The setting does most of the work.

The Convent and the Olive Trees

The Ex-Convento de Santa Ana, built by Franciscans starting in 1526, sits just below the main road with an atrium large enough to have served as an outdoor church for thousands of new converts. What nobody mentioned to me before I went: the olive trees. There are dozens of them in the convent grounds, gnarled and silver-leafed, planted by the friars in the 16th century and still producing fruit. They may be the oldest olive trees in the Americas. Walking among them on a quiet morning, the light broken by old branches, I found it one of the more unexpectedly peaceful hours I have spent anywhere in Michoacán. The open chapel and the murals inside are worth seeing too, but the orchard is the thing.

Día de Muertos

If you are in Michoacán in late October, do not skip the cemetery here on the night of November 1st. Families have been keeping vigil at the graves of their dead since well before the colonial period, and the tradition has not been packaged for tourism in the way it has elsewhere. Marigold petals, candles, photographs, food left at the graves — and a quiet that is not sad exactly, more like a different kind of attention. Come after dark and stay a while.

Getting There

Combis run frequently between Pátzcuaro’s bus terminal and Tzintzuntzan throughout the day — the ride takes around 15 minutes and costs next to nothing. Pátzcuaro itself is well connected by bus from Morelia (about an hour) and Mexico City. Most people visit Tzintzuntzan as a day trip, though a couple of small guesthouses exist in town if you want to stay for the light at both ends of the day.