November 16, 2008 |
I arrived in eerie, old Mineral de Pozos in the middle of a half-sunny afternoon, with cotton-candy cloud shadows creeping all over the adobe rubble, the reclaimed ruins, the cactus thickets and the little-trod cobblestone streets. Never heard of the place, a hotel clerk had said in Spanish as I prepared to make the 50-mile trip here from Queretaro. Another clerk piped up, I have. It's small. Very small, said a taxi driver.