Angangueo is a small mountain town set amid a terrain of pine forest. We had to take a coach from Morelia to Zitacuaro, then a local bus from there. It was dark when we arrived, the temperature cold. Everyone stared at us with our backpacks. We took an exceptionally crummy room at a hotel-cum-paper shop. The place was full of icy drafts, holes in the ceiling and floor, delerious little nooks for things to creep out of. The front door wouldn't shut and neither would those onto the next room. There was a battered plastic sheet to separate the pissing quarters... it hung down all torn and limp... safety pins protruding uselessly.
We got a meal a hotel across the street. The senora opened the kitchen and cooked us some fare. Then we went back and crashed... piled on a ton of blankets to keep out the chill.
We woke early the next day to make the hike to the sanctuary... around 7km uphill. The air was thin and the gradient steep... we had to stop a few times to rest. The path wound around the mountain... we got a good view of the town, then passed through a couple of villages. Eventually the path met with a stream and began skirting the edge of the forest. A little further on we came to the sanctuary... under renovation and closed for three weeks. A group of workmen told us pesistently that we weren't allowed to enter. So we left.
Returning, we went and climbed a hill to eat our picnic of cake and rolls. Butterflies were falling like clouds of orange ash... the wind brought them across the path... flitting over the edge and into the valley. Thousands of them came fluttering by... it was something strange and surreal... we consoled ourselves that the hike had not been for nothing. The flow would thin and thicken... sometimes grandly illuminated by the peeking sun. We ate and watched the spectacle a good while. Then we began the long hike back to town.