We started in Alamosa, Colorado. It was a stress-filled wedding weekend. I was the new girlfriend. While I watched him deal with the anxious groom and try to balance his hometown friends’ needs to make this a reunion on-top of the wedding, I looked for bed and breakfasts in Taos. Now, I know what you’re thinking, why would you just run away from all of it? Well, I thought two days away from the madness might help ease some of the stress and he wanted that. Sometimes, travel has to be selfish.
So, at about 11 am (post-wedding) we repacked the car and headed for Taos. It was only an hour and a half away, and we couldn’t wait to be hanging out in our fancy little bed and breakfast.
Over the course of the drive, the temperature dropped 10 degrees and I thought Tristan was going to stop the car to perform an actual happy dance. It had been blazing in Alamosa and we’d had to stop at a Starbucks to change out of wedding clothes and into what was now more sweaty fabric.
We watched as the landscape changed, becoming much more green and welcoming. The drive through town was short but enticed us with its Mexican food and countless art galleries. We couldn’t wait to scope out a church for the next morning (church in new places in a separate blog post) and a new painting to add to our collection.
The bed and breakfast made us cozy as soon as we parked. It was what some online reviews called old, but I’d rather use the word rustic. The stucco walls and wood deck made us feel like we were in Taos. It was a product of its environment and melded to its surroundings perfectly. The lobby had blue finishes, to match the colorful art style of Taos I’m sure, and a kind young man hanging out behind the desk. He welcomed us and led us to our room.
“Now, breakfast is the important part,” he said. “Will you be joining us tomorrow?”
Our pretzel and granola bar filled bellies made us nod before we could even comprehend what he was asking. So, we made ourselves at home quickly, appreciating the skylight lit bathroom and dim bedroom lighting. The yellow walls were warm and the windows opened wide enough to filter in a breeze.
Dinner came first. We walked into town and found a little Mexican food restaurant. It wasn’t mouthwatering, but it got the job done. We vowed to stop looking at reviews because so far they had gotten our entire Taos trip wrong, giving us the wrong ravings for food and apprehension for hotels.
What you should know about Taos is that it’s small. So, if you spend a lot of money on a weekend night at a BnB, go enjoy that for the night and see Taos the next day. We loved our quiet night lazing around the pool and reading on the deck into the evening.
Breakfast was between eight and nine, so we rose with the sun that peaked through the window and found coffee in the lobby to enjoy with the breezy morning. The chef, a small older woman, is inspired by Spanish and Asian cuisine. Her English was not very strong, but her smile made up for the lack of understanding between us. Her infectious excitement made the vegetable quiche a treat and pancake rolls sweeter. The other guests kindly asked each other where they were from and marveled at the delectable breakfast in front of them. We shared a collective knowledge that we had found a paradise in Taos.
I grinned at Tristan’s messy hair in bliss. Being selfish was the best decision we could have possibly made.
After eating far too much, we checked out and headed for the public parking lot in town. We grabbed an americano from a cash-only coffee shop and started walking toward Our Lady Guadalupe for Sunday morning mass. The stucco buildings all made it feel like a world away from where we’d traveled just an hour and a half away.
The church was filled with friendly locals. A lady stopped me in the restroom to tell me how special the service is and the historical importance of the church to the generations who have been part of it. We sat quietly and watched the music-filled and youth abundant service. The message that week was to love thy neighbor and work to spread kindness as we went through the week. I appreciated the reminder and took it with me as we began exploring art galleries.
The artists were kind. A Russian woman sold us on one of her friend’s oil paintings of a sunflower patch. The brilliant blues and soft yellows felt very indicative of where we were. The $25 price tag also helped because we had been surrounded by thousand dollar paintings that we couldn’t afford everywhere else. Tristan just kept saying “one day” when we passed by beautiful pieces that we were afraid to even look at. Her thick accent soothed us as we walked through and admired the rest of the shop.
We shared an ice cream and walked through a few more bookstores. The heat was becoming unbearable. So, we decided it was time to go after we’d walked in the four different directions of downtown.
With Taos in the rearview mirror, we thanked the little town for the special weekend it had provided us and began our six-hour journey home.