We pull up to the square and stretch our legs. 'Is this really it? Are you sure?' One of Mexico's prettiest squares according to National Geographic. We sit down at a very empty average cafe on the side of a square with modest palm trees and a defunct fountain. It is only when over a cup of coffee I look at the map that I realise we are in Tlaxco not Tlaxcala. Our lunch stop over is shortened and we head back. On the way we pass half built houses in dry fields with lonely cactus, an enormous 'factory' with cows squished together in pens waiting to meet their fate. The smell is overwhelming and puts me off meat. It turns out that going down the wrong road is like stepping away from the viewfinder to see the mess and beauty of the bussling workings behind the scenes.
Our last weekend we spend visiting a friend in the obscenely beautiful San Miguelle de Allende. Its like a rich persons dream shopping centre - cobbled streets lines with sun peeled red and ochre walls, stone statues, rooftop bars, art galleries tripping over each other, elegant dress shops and tempting bakeries.
Our road trip has come to an end and we are ready for the excitement of coming home. My own bed, swapping tales with much missed friends, seeing how the trees and plants have grown in the garden. Coming home is a whole adventure in itself.
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