Mazatlan

At the state border customs stop, everyone was asked by the military to exit the bus. Of 30 passengers, 5 pieces of luggage were laid on a table for inspection – ours being 2 of the 5. Aside from being the only woman and the officer being a bit chagrined when he got to Cynthia’s underwear compartment, we made it by dinner to Mazatlan. Much larger than Puerto Vallarta, we found it much like any American beach city: over 10 miles of beautiful mainland beaches, a 2 mile beach sidewalk where locals jog, inline skate, bike, lots of quirky statues and the second highest lighthouse in the world (hmm…lots of 2nds and thirds, but no 1sts yet for Mexico). We spoiled ourselves for a few days in a nice kitchenette suite (Playa Victoria) across the street from the beach.

Several islands dot the horizon but we opted to hop a 60 second water taxi (probably could have swum…swam? swim?- what is that word?) to Isla de la Piedra. Hopping off the boat and continuing straight, the view opened up to the longest stretch of beach either of us had ever seen. Limitlessly lined on the left with what was obviously a coconut grove, we winced, hoping the workers wore helmets…

After returning to the mainland, we dined at Mariscos La Puntilla, next to the water taxi pier, serving the local specialty Pescado Zarandeado: a whole, spiced, broiled fish split open and piled high with onions, peppers and tomatoes (delicious; a great price; just watch out for the bones and eyes). We actually enjoyed a nice bottle of Mexican made wine (“Hecho En Mexico”) with dinner

Cynthia wanted to do some horseback riding (who doesn’t dream of cantering along the surf?) so when the helpful tourist office called Ginger’s Bi-Lingual Horses for us, we booked the next morning. Ginger’s is in Playa Bruja – famous for its left -hand wave (a surfer’s term – not the way the Queen waves). Our guide, Noah, also bi-lingual, was very entertaining. Our horses, Royal and Domingo, would run when we wanted (although Royal, having recently relocated from the mountains, tended to run wide-eyed from the incoming surf).

Some last observations: this is a university town and while there, we got to see them parade their choices of university queen. Saw the “iceman cometh” (I hope he rings the bell, otherwise it’s the “puddleman cometh”), laughed at translations, and found a nice little hole in the wall sports bar “Saloon”, in Zona Dorado, where the NBA and the “anteloppe” play. Warren was in heaven.

As in all the entries, more images of Mazatlan are available in our gallery.

Next stop Los Mochis (quick stopover) to catch the train through the Copper Canyon on our way to Creel.

2 Replies to “Mazatlan”

  1. So Warren – made Cynthia carry all the contraband. “Underwear!” Right!

    Looks like a lot of fun…am very jealous, but enoy living vicariously through ya’ll.

  2. What? No thongs in Warren’s suitcase? Wouldn’t that have made the guy MORE uncomfortable? LOL Next time, Warren, borrow one from Cynthia and pack it right on top. . .

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