Mexican Independence Day in Tequila: How to Spend It

First, the correction, because many gets this wrong.

Cinco de Mayo is not Mexican Independence Day. It never was. It marks a battle fought in Puebla in 1862, and outside of Puebla most Mexicans barely mark it at all. The real date is September 16. The night that matters is September 15.

If you want to spend Mexican Independence Day in Tequila, Jalisco, you have chosen the one town that does not have to dress up for the occasion. Tequila gave its name to the thing the world already associates with Mexico. Once a year, that stops being trivia and turns into something you can stand in.

What Mexican Independence Day traditions look like

At 11 p.m. on September 15, the same thing happens in every town in Mexico. Someone steps onto a balcony, rings a bell, and shouts the names of the people who made a country. Everyone below shouts back.


It is called El Grito, and it repeats a night in 1810 when a priest named Miguel Hidalgo rang his parish bell in Dolores and started a war. The president does it from the National Palace. A mayor does it from a town hall with forty people watching. Same gesture. Only the balcony changes.


The morning of the 16th brings the other half: the parade. Schools, brass bands, charros on horseback, an entire elementary school marching slightly out of step. Take into account that this happens early, so you don’t miss it.

El Grito in Tequila happens in the plaza

There is no ticket. There is no press barrier. There is no screen.


Tequila’s Grito is given in the main plaza, in front of the parish church, with the whole town standing underneath. Families bring chairs out of their houses. Children ride on shoulders. A band starts before the echo dies. Nobody asks where you are from, and nobody charges you to be there.


Mexican Independence Day traditions are not a show put on for anyone. They are a town doing what it has done every year, out loud, and letting you stand in it.

What is on the table

The food is not decoration. It is half the point.


There is pozole, red or white, which turns up in every house in Mexico in September without anyone coordinating it. There is birria, which in Jalisco is not up for debate. There is cochinita from the southeast, which travels well and stays. And there is the torta ahogada, which is Jalisco itself.


Then the sweet end, where the date goes red, white, and green: capirotada, rice pudding, jericaya, tricolor gelatin and corn cake.

Why Mexican Independence Day in Tequila is different

Because Tequila does not perform Mexican identity. It has been manufacturing it for more than two centuries.


Destilería La Rojeña opened in 1795 and has not missed a year since. It is the oldest tequila distillery in Latin America. It started working fifteen years before El Grito existed. When Hidalgo rang that bell in Dolores, this house had already been doing what it still does today for a decade and a half.


That is not a charming coincidence. It is the reason this town has standing on this date. The agave landscape around it has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2006.

The Grito ends late, and the 16th is a public holiday

Here is the most useful thing anyone can tell you about this date: stay the night.


El Grito is at 11 p.m. The plaza does not empty at midnight. September 16 is a national holiday, so there is no reason to be on the road back to Guadalajara at 2 a.m. when you could be watching the parade from a balcony a few hours later.


Hotel Solar de las Ánimas sits on the main plaza, which is exactly where all of it happens. Staying there turns two loose days into a real long weekend.

Something is coming

There is something being prepared in Tequila for these dates that we cannot tell you about yet. Keep an eye on what is being announced next.


If you would rather arrive by rail, the Jose Cuervo Express runs between Guadalajara and Tequila through the agave fields, which is the most immersive experience to get into this town.


And if you want the other end of the calendar: in November, this same town does the exact opposite. It lowers its voice, turns off the music, and sits down to wait for its dead. It is the other half of the same story.