Jalpan de Serra

I drove the last two hours from Querétaro city in the dark, the road corkscrewing through dry hills that eventually went green, then very green. I arrived in Jalpan at around nine at night, parked on the square, and the mission church was just there — lit from below, absurdly grand for a town this size, its baroque facade crowded with saints and serpents and corn. I stood in front of it long enough that a man selling elotes from a cart asked if I was all right.

A Church Built to Astonish

The Misión Santiago de Jalpan went up between 1751 and 1758, designed by Fray Junípero Serra — the Franciscan who would later build the California mission chain — and the sheer ambition of it still does not quite make sense. You are in a mountain town of maybe fifteen thousand people, four hours from any major city, and in front of you is a facade so layered with ornament it reads almost like argument: here is the Church, here is its reach, and yes, it extends this far into the wilderness. UNESCO eventually agreed, designating all five Sierra Gorda missions a World Heritage Site. From the inside, the proportions are intimate — it is not a cathedral — but the craftsmanship is close and meticulous in a way that rewards slow looking. I went back three times over two days, always in different light.

The Biosphere Begins Outside Town

The Sierra Gorda Biosphere Reserve surrounds Jalpan on all sides and contains an almost implausible range of ecosystems — cloud forest, xeric scrub, tropical deciduous forest, subtropical canyon — stacked one against another depending on altitude and which way a slope faces. I spent one morning on the trail toward the Cascada El Chuvejé, which starts just outside town and drops through oak and pine before opening onto a waterfall cold enough to make my teeth ache. The reserve is home to ocelots, mountain lions, and more than three hundred bird species. I am a passable birder and I barely knew where to look first. The Grupo Ecológico Sierra Gorda, based here in Jalpan, runs conservation work throughout the reserve and offers guided walks — worth contacting ahead if you want to go deeper into the backcountry.

Eating on the Plaza

Jalpan eats well for its size. On the north side of the plaza, a spot called El Mesón de la Sierra serves enchiladas mineras in a mole that tastes like it was started the previous morning — dark, slightly bitter, with a warmth that builds slowly. The mercado municipal, two blocks east of the church, has a row of breakfast stalls open by seven; I had chilaquiles rojos with a fried egg and a large café de olla and paid sixty pesos. On weekend evenings the square fills and someone usually sets up a speaker. I ate tacos de guisado standing up and watched Jalpan be entirely itself, which is really all you can ask of a place.

Getting There

Jalpan is about four hours from Querétaro city by car via the 57 and then Federal Highway 120 — the mountain stretch takes longer than the map suggests. Direct buses run from Querétaro’s Terminal de Autobuses to Jalpan with Flecha Amarilla; the journey is around four to five hours depending on stops. There is no airport. Plan at least two nights.