I’ve visited several historical towns in Mexico referred to as the magical towns. Of course because I love color, I love Mexico. I adore the unabashed use of bright colors and the apparent lack of concern over coordinating a palette. But at the last stop I discovered something different. I found an odd oasis in the middle of a charming 400 year old cobblestoned town, a delightful Parisian-styled bistro decorated almost totally in white. And what a beautiful white it was. Wooden beams were painted white, porcelain tiles were white, plates and tablecloths were white. Cakes and pastries were topped with delicious whites. Aprons were crisp white. Artwork was framed in white. The stone fireplace was white. The polished concrete floor wore a hand-painted white area carpet, tassels and all. Rather than being cold and impersonal, it was warm and inviting. So inviting in fact that I ended up sneaking back a few times during my stay. The whites offered a perfect canvas for any bits of color, making them literally pop. The tiny orange marigold on the saucer beside the white china holding the perfect cup of coffee was lovely. The brilliant green of the lily pods floating in the sunlight beside white ceramic tiles was simply eye-catching. My friend and I sat on white rattan rockers and sipped our coffees slowly, really slowly. Now I have to rethink white.
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