La Peña de Bernal

After one month of camping out in our hostel, we decided it was time to do some exploring outside of Queretaro.  So last weekend we strapped on our sneakers and boarded a bus to the city of Bernal where we climbed the world’s second-largest (and third-tallest) monolith, la Peña de Bernal.  Before arriving, we had no idea what a monolith was exactly, but a bit of research (after we returned home) informed us that it is simply a giant, solitary rock, which is exactly what we experienced.  We thought we were ready to defeat this rock with our new Mexican walking legs, but half way up we found ourselves huffing and puffing and wondering how much farther we had to go.  I was just about ready to give up and consider the mid-viewpoint adequate until I spied an elderly woman using a cane getting ready to pass me.  I couldn’t let the old lady win so off we went to the top.

That’s right, we’ve buffed up our legs and our capacities for spite!  Seriously though, that caned lady was on a mission from somebody… 

On our way up, we discovered that people climb a mountain a bit different around these parts.  Vendors carry up coolers of drinks and boxes of food to serve you at various points throughout your trek and people do not always dress the part to climb a steep rock.  We saw people wearing their Sunday best including men’s dress shoes and a pair of patent leather wedges, and others who simply went barefoot.  When we did reach the top expecting a gorgeous view and silence, we instead heard Beyonce’s Single Ladies roaring out from down below.  I thought Anders may have set this up and was going to get down on one knee to put a ring on it, but it didn’t happen.

HA!  I love you Sally, but Beyoncé isn’t part of my love-inducing repetoire; maybe Jay-Z though…

            
To celebrate our victorious summit, we took the advice of our friendly hostel worker/friend/new landlord, and ate at the Italian restaurant in town.  The place was the real deal with the Italian owners sitting behind us stuffing their mouths and talking loudly over the food.  A large pizza (ironically the spiciest food we have eaten thus far in Mexico to the tune of eyes watering and mouths on fire) and a carafe of wine later, we were full and ready to head home where we gracefully passed out on the couch for the rest of the evening to recover.

No joke, that pizza was so hot it was hilarious!  We were crying from laughing, pain and each other.  Perhaps one time where a nice, chilled white would’ve been a better choice than the house tinto, but a delightful— and rather fun/ny— time still.  Between the peña and the ‘za, one might say we felt the Bern-al. ;)