I don’t have a photograph of that sunset.
I remember the rooftops, the church spires, and a sky that seemed to discover another color every time we looked up. I remember turning toward him and seeing tears running down his cheeks.
Years have passed. Our relationship ended, and our lives took very different directions. Still, I’m certain there’s an evening in San Miguel de Allende that we’ll both carry for the rest of our lives.
Well, after the sunset was over, I took just one pic…
Returning with Someone I Loved
I first visited San Miguel in December 2019. During the time I lived in Mexico, from 2017 to 2018, so many people recommended it that it became one of those places I knew I would eventually have to see.
When I finally went with friends, I understood why. The city was beautiful, and it felt easy to enjoy. We could walk, stop somewhere that caught our attention, and keep exploring without having to work out every next step.
Later, I wanted to return with my partner. We were celebrating our second anniversary, and I hoped to share what had moved me on that first visit, with more time for the two of us.
I told him I had a surprise.
I’ve never been especially fond of surprises myself. He loved them. Planning one gave me a way to think carefully about what would make him happy.
The Road Through Guanajuato
We drove from Mexico City in a private car, taking turns behind the wheel.
What I remember most about the drive is our conversation and the countryside as we entered Guanajuato. Vineyards lined stretches of the road. Even while driving, he kept glancing from one side to the other, drawn to the landscape.
We both came from farming families. There was something familiar in those cultivated fields, something that made small details worth pointing out and enjoying together.
I wanted us to arrive before sunset. He didn’t yet know exactly why.
Planning a Surprise with a Little Geometry
Everything centered on the terrace.
I searched for a small, reasonably priced hotel where we could be comfortable. Then I studied photographs on Booking.com, checked the buildings’ locations, and put my engineering instincts to work.
Using geography and a little geometry, I tried to figure out where the sun would disappear behind the hills and church spires. I thought we would have the view I wanted sometime between roughly 5:30 and 6:30 that evening.
I chose Casa del Misionero.
The staff found us a room with a balcony. The upper floor was already booked, and our room didn’t have the church view I had hoped for. But they told us we were welcome to use the rooftop terrace, even though its restaurant was closed and no one would be serving upstairs at that hour.
Without knowing about the surprise, they had helped make it possible.
Their kindness throughout the stay exceeded my expectations. It was a simple place, with no included breakfast or extra perks. We were comfortable, and we felt welcome. That mattered a great deal.
A Rooftop to Ourselves
We went upstairs around 8:15. It was july, so the sunset in Mexico starts around 8:00pm, each detail was carefully planned!
The terrace was empty. I assumed the other guests were out exploring the center of town, though I never knew for sure. What stayed with me was the quiet and the feeling that, for a little while, we had the place to ourselves.
The sun was still fairly high. I watched it with the nervous attention of someone who had planned a surprise and was beginning to wonder whether his calculations were right.
At first, it looked like an ordinary sunset.
We moved toward some chairs near the edge of the terrace. Then I noticed a low wall beside the restaurant with a better vantage point. With my help, he found a spot where he could see more clearly.
That was when the light began to change.
A Sky I Couldn’t Have Planned
It was July, and not a drop of rain fell that afternoon.
Pink, mauve, and orange spread above the hills and rooftops. Then came a deep, vivid red. The colors kept shifting, with the silhouettes of the churches giving shape and depth to the scene.
I had planned the direction and the timing. I hadn’t imagined anything quite like this.
When I turned toward him, he was crying. 🥲
Sometimes I think about everything that had lined up for us to be there: the drive, the available terrace, the weather, our arrival before the light changed. The engineer in me could think about angles and the way light travels. The rest of me had very little to say.
I told him something I’ve often thought when an evening sky becomes especially beautiful:
“Some afternoons, God makes a canvas of the sky and paints one of his most beautiful pictures. This is one of those afternoons.”
I left my phone in my pocket.
For the first time, I deliberately chose to let a scene like that go unphotographed. I wanted to keep watching. I didn’t want to think about framing an image while the colors changed and he was beside me.
I’ve never regretted that decision.
What We Keep After We Part
The trip was almost perfect, but not so our relationship.
Some parts of that story remain private. Over time, I’ve learned that I can treasure the beauty of an evening without expecting it to explain everything that happened afterward.
We’re no longer together. Our lives have taken very different paths, but I’m certain we both will remember San Miguel de Allende forever.
I still recall the anticipation before we went upstairs, the quiet of the terrace, and his face when I turned toward him. I remember how much I had wanted to share that experience with him.
Years later, that trip became one of the inspirations behind Macondo Trips & Experiences. It showed me how much a thoughtfully chosen place can matter, especially when we give ourselves time to enjoy it. An hour with nothing else scheduled can become the part of a journey we remember most.
A Different Terrace, a New Story
That sunset happened at Casa del Misionero. My understanding is that the hotel has closed for renovations, and I don’t know when it will welcome guests again.
The place I recommend today is Casa del Tío, where I’ve also stayed.
Its staff was friendly and welcoming, and its terrace sits even closer to San Miguel’s iconic church. It offers another lovely place to look across the rooftops and watch the evening light.
I have a particular affection for the warmth we experienced at Casa del Misionero. Casa del Tío has its own hospitality and its own perspective on the city. I’d love for other travelers to find a moment there that belongs entirely to them.
Perhaps they’ll come as a couple, with friends, or on their own. Perhaps they’ll take a photograph.
I kept my sunset another way.
I can still see it.
