Across the street from a church dedicated to San Sebastian of Aparicio (the patron saint of travelers who helped build Mexico’s roadways), a penitent carrying a heavy load of wood on his back walks slowly up the stairs of an overpass.

On the other side, next to a map marking Puebla as the geographic center of Mexico — the heart of the country really — two young men are locked in a passionate embrace.

Such scenes speak to Puebla’s delicate dance between the sacred and the sensual.

Mexico’s fourth largest city — and supposedly built with the assistance of angels — is where shrines and saints abound alongside aesthetic and gastronomic delights.

Nuns, whose orders began flocking here in the 16th century, used much of their time in solitude to invent delicious new recipes for poblano treats like mole. Their presence is now witnessed on the streets, where they sell dark chocolate for worthy charities.

But it’s the visual beauty of the city’s colonial architecture that trumps all else.

Bestowed with UNESCO World Heritage status for its wealth of renaissance and baroque buildings, their colors are a confection of pinks, greens, blues, yellows and reds that rival those of the candy shops along Calle de los Dulces. (“Alfenique,” Puebla’s distinct brand of white stucco decoration developed by 18th-century artisans, is actually named after a local, meringue-like candy.)

In fact one could easily spend all one’s time here lost in a series of baroque archi-tours, offset by hearty poblano lunches and perhaps an afternoon mass here and there for penance.

But it’s also the international culturati flocking here along with tourists: New international cultural and theater festivals are popping up all over, along with El Breve Espacio (Calle 7 Norte No. 8) — an experimental theater/drag club/live music venue in the historic quarter.

Beyond the famous 17th-century Biblioteca Palafoxiana (Av. 5 Oriente 5), the first library in the Americas, literati can find sumptuous refuge in Profetica, a library/café/book store with a central open courtyard.

And the stunning Museo Amparo, designed by architect Enrique Norten as a modernist jewel within the walls of an historic edifice, opens up on the roof terrace to reveal Puebla’s baroque skyline.

If the candy-colored buildings begin to bore, a good night out can be had in La Paz a ritzy neighborhood that oddly feels like Puebla’s answer to Coldwater Canyon.

Dine at La Divina Comedia (Ave. Atoyac No. 1), a sprawling, three-level eatery that features actual pages of Dante’s masterpiece shellacked onto the floorboards and inverts the usual order of things with a rooftop bar called Hell, a BBQ restaurant in “purgatory” and a ground-floor restaurant Heaven.

El Mural de los Poblanos is still the favorite hangout of ladies who lunch, but offers a modern tweak on the traditional — think mole tapas — by young chef Liz Galicia.

After a trip to the Iglesia de Nuestra Senora de los Remedios, built on top of the largest archaeological site of a pyramid in the New World, have a drink in Container City, where bars and eateries are housed in painted, converted railway containers.

A trip to the newly minted park Fuertes de Loreto, which commemorates the Cinco de Mayo victory over French forces, is a worthwhile afternoon out, if only for the city view, the artisanal shop and the thoughtful architecture by Enrico Norte.

At once contemplative and romantic, Puebla would be a good place to write a book or launch a passionate affair. See it now while the nuns are still selling chocolate on the streets.

Stay

El Sueño Hotel and Spa, a boutique hotel, offers gorgeous rooms named after famous women who realized their dreams, like Frida Kahlo and Sor Juana de la Cruz (from $94).

Speaking of boutique, La Purificadora is a weathered-wooded, granite-staircased, glass-paneled “shrine to industrial chic” (from $125).

Or consider El Andante, with rooms named after famous composers (from $86).

The Hotel San Leonardo boasts fabulous chandeliers, an in tune piano in the lounge and a tiny gem of a pool with a traditional talavera tiled deck (from $58).