One afternoon we bused-it to downtown Mazatlán with 15 fellow cruisers for a unique dining excursion: Shrimp Day!

Step 1: Buy shrimp. But not just any shrimp - fresh shrimp, sold street-side. A half block length of sidewalk is overtaken by what everyone calls the “Shrimp Ladies”. These women sit under tents hawking freshly caught shrimp, fish, squid and scallops, piled high in ice-packed buckets. Stroll down the line perusing various sizes: pequeño, medio or grande, ocean-caught or farm-raised. Select your shrimp lady based on her shrimp’s quality and appearance… or her demeanor. We chose to buy from a nice young woman instead of the cranky-looking one in my photo. A kilo (2 lbs) of shrimp is more than enough for two people. And at 120 pesos, it’s a steal. (That’s about $6.66 with the 18 peso/dollar exchange rate right about now.)

Step 2: Bag ‘o shrimp in hand…walk across the street to the Botanero where they’ll cook your prize. A typical botanero, we learned, is a “bar with snacks”… and a little more. Often a dive bar atmosphere, the women who work there wear tight clothing and sidle up to lonely men who buy them a drink in return for a flirty chat. Keeps the men in their seats buying more alcohol - amazing how that concept works so well around the world!

Step 3: Choose between boiled, breaded, garlic or spicy diablo style. We choose half garlic / half breaded. The waitress takes our shrimp back to the kitchen where they clean and prepare it, right then, for 60 pesos. (a mere $3.33)

Step 4: Wait. Drink a bucket of Pacificos and chat for an hour while they cook each bag ‘o shrimp to order (takes a while with all of us). If you drink enough cervezas in a botanero you may be offered some free appetizers of ceviche or tiny tacos.

Step 5: Dig in! Of course we were the last of the bunch to get our shrimp off the grill - the slowest eater always gets her food last. But, the wait is worth it. You just can’t beat a fresh shrimp dinner for two for $10!  In a word…shrimptastic!

Mexico is known for tequila, so we can’t NOT do the requisite tequila factory tour. It’s pretty much obligatory for all tourists. Heck, it probably should be a checkbox on our visas as we pass through customs. “Tequila tour? Check, OK you can go home. Oh Bob, look here, she’s done TWO tequila tours. YOU get the gold stamp.”

Los Osuna 100% Blue Agave
Joining our friends Jeff and Breezy on S/V “Starfire”, we drove to the Los Osuna factory for our day’s rental car outing. Sequestered in the quiet countryside near the dusty, seemingly deserted town of La Noria, this lovely rancho is surrounded by field after field of blue agave plants. Los Osuna, a 130 year-old family business, is a Mazatlan sightseer institution with our hotel heavily advertising tours. Despite its high-profile, this small, quaint hacienda did not feel tourist-trappy. Only a few cars dotted the parking lot, so we nearly had the place to ourselves. After our personal tour (make sure to tip your host), the open-air tasting pavilion was a serene spot for sampling.

Tequila vs. 100% Blue Agave
Tequila is ONLY made in Mexico and it is BIG business as evidenced by entire walls devoted solely to tequila sales in every grocery store. Our guide tells us over 1000 tequila brands are produced in Mexico. And they are highly competitive. The relatively recent “Tequila Wars” involved some violent and dirty tactics, punctuated by hi-jackings of truckloads of the precious agave piñas. These days, distilleries may legally only call it “tequila” if it is created in specific states (similar to champagne)… namely parts of Guadalajara, Nayarit and Jalisco, just outside Puerto Vallarta where the Tequila Trail is found.

Sinaloa is NOT one of those states. So Los Osuna’s mescal legally must be noted as “100% blue agave” or “100% agave azul”. It is made by fermenting and distilling the inner core (piña) of the blue agave plant after it has reached maturity, a whopping 7-10 years. The most interesting fact is they supposedly blast classical music during fermentation to agitate the yeast particles naturally, rather than using additives. So… when you are sipping those spirits, know your beverage is well-bred.

Blanco, Resposado y Añejo
We sampled two types of 100% blue agave: the mid-level version “resposado”, aged in oak barrels up to 12 months and the “añejo” meaning “aged”, specifically 3 years. We didn’t bother with the non-aged “Blanco”, assuming a harsher flavor. A vanilla flavored liquor was our third taste and by far the best. At a whopping 40% alcohol content, this was smooth stuff, award-winning actually… not your average collegiate frat party rot gut.

Onilikan
Our second tasting excursion was to the Onilikan factory, situated amongst the tourist-trap hubub of the Golden Zone in Mazatlan. Open for 5 years, Onilikan is a relative newcomer to the scene, but they present a unique idea. While they do produce 100% blue agave, their specialty is 100% MANGO.

Yup, that’s right…the only distillery in the world to make mango “tequila” (they are very careful to not even mention that word, it’s a mango spirit or “aguardiente”). Not just mango “flavored”, this entire spirit is brewed using only the sugars from mango pulp. And wow, it is good! They are experimenting with other flavored liquors too: coffee, juniper berry, key lime, even hibiscus. Our favorite was their new Mexican Triple Sec with hints of orange… so good we came dangerously close to buying a $60 bottle!

This purchase would be a no-brainer IF we were still working. But now it’s a bit too steep for our cruising budget on something so fluffy and non-essential. Wait…alcohol = non-essential? I know, isn’t that a contradiction? Bottom line is I’m trying to get RID of things on the boat, not accumulate…

Tequila Transformation
Although tequila is not my cup of tea, I can now appreciate the transformation that comes with age and extended time swishing around in an oak barrel. It really does make a difference. I could say the same about cruising life. As we get older, coupled with the experiences that arise from floating around in a fiberglass and teak barrel, our edges have smoothed out. We’ve become less harsh, less bitter, more cultured. How about refined and sophisticated? Please. I mean we live in a boat for gosh sakes. Sometimes I make Brian share one plate for sandwiches or snacks just so I don’t have to wash a second dish, using up precious water. Would anyone you know call THAT refined?

To learn more about the tequila manufacturing process and lore visit Tequila Connection.

Our time here in Mazatlan has been filled with a variety of cultural activities: from art walks to princess-crownings to plays.

Art Walk
Each month on a Friday afternoon, Mazatlan holds an Art Walk downtown in the old historic district. With printed map in hand, visitors wander around bustling plazas and quiet back streets in search of the next spot. Once inside, sip a glass of wine or snack on some queso and chips while perusing local art. The artists (either native Mazatlecos or retired gringos) are often available for questions/conversation or, of course, purchases. Some of the locations are boutique shops selling unique objects, some are artist’s flats, one happened to be an elaborate home with canvasses or murals in every room. Items range from paintings to photography to mixed media, even jewelry or textiles.

Paintings by Rafael Avila Tirado
My favorite was Rafael Avila Tirado who painted several beautiful works of caballeros and children; even his plain wooden & barbed wire fences were lovely. One thought-provoking piece stood out: a honeycomb with shrouded, sleeping individuals in bar-coded cells, one girl finally waking up and climbing out. Rafael was in the midst of finishing a work of 3 children sitting in a tiny aluminum washtub boat, gossamer sails flowing under a starry eve. Beautiful. I can’t find a website for his work but here is a YouTube video.

Artistic License
But there was one stop… oh, it was the worst. I was embarrassed by my overwhelming desire to take a photo, only to prove its demerit. So I refrained. How dare I subject you to the absurdity? Plus, displaying it to the world simply to mock its ridiculousness seemed a tich disrespectful. I would have had to take the photo right in front of the artist. I am critical, just not THAT malicious. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t mock it with words.

Picture a plain room of dull watercolor paintings, in the center of which is a large wooden table showcasing numerous small statues. Ceramic? Not sure. I couldn’t bring myself to study them intently, not wanting to show false interest. You see, every piece is the same: a 2” wide sock-like thing that tapers off at the end, each black and white zebra-print. Its mouth sits flat on the table, the sock rising vertically for several inches straight up, then it flops over like a gnome’s stocking hat. Whaaaat is THAT supposed to be? (Confusion amongst my fellow gallery attendees is obvious, but we try to remain poker-faced).

These obscure sculptures were bad enough, but every painting on the surrounding walls incorporated this weird zebra sock. Normal watercolor of a house… bam… add zebra sock up in the rafters. Japanese garden…bam…zebra sock. Whatever talent there MAY have been was completely lost due to her distracting zebra fixation. Some of these mundane watercolors revealed obvious misplaced drops of water from a dripping brush… and they weren’t even framed, just pieces of paper taped to the wall like children’s refrigerator art. Then more wall tchotchkes: 5” open notebooks, completely shellacked, bearing a single letter or word on a page. Seriously? Bathroom-worthy. Maaaybe. But ONLY because there was a distinct LACK of zebra sock...whew. Top that experience off with a price list forced upon us on entering… ugggh, this chic has a lot to learn.

But, wait… isn’t anything “art” in the eye of the beholder? Apparently. Look, I’m no art aficionado. Obviously at least ONE person thought it was gallery-worthy …and her art professor, I imagine. But these days, in the attempt of both parents and educators to prop up the self-esteem of our floundering children, we do them a great disservice. “Oh, honey that… zebra sock…thingy, it’s…um… beautiful. You should be an artist!” It should stop there – but then they pay for art school. The ever-doting American Idol parent has thus created a world full of talentless hacks who, once in the real world, cannot fathom why no one buys their art, gives them a recording contract or offers them a job.  OK, end of rant… I can rant once in a while, right?

Princesses on Display
On another evening, we sojourned downtown with Orlando and Linda on S/V “Cuba Libre” to Plaza Republica for a Carnaval preview. Not on the roster of major Carnaval events, this is a free “pep rally” of sorts intended to drum up support for the queen candidates and tally final vote counts. The night begins with live music, ornately costumed dancers performing traditional Spanish Flamenco and Caribbean styles. A subsequent parade of Carnaval candidates sashays across the stage flaunting dazzling dresses and shiny tuxedos. Each contestant for the King of Joy, Child Queen (7-8 yr olds) and the all-important position of Carnaval Queen beams with exuberance while gracefully double-handed-queen-waving at us onlookers for an hour (man, my arms would fall off if I ever had to wave that much).

Reminiscent of a political rally, contestants’ families and friends gather to garner support by sporting “Blanca” or “Felipe” t-shirts and carrying signs, complete with confetti bits blown about. Folks hoot n’ holler as their hopeful winner’s name is broadcast. The votes are tallied and the winners of the Carnaval King and Child Queen are announced that night (official coronation ceremonies take place later). Fireworks ensue; a celebration here is NOT complete without fireworks.

The selection of the 2016 Mazatlan Carnaval Queen is a separate and momentous occasion. The appointment itself is a highly coveted honor;  current and prior queens (going back 116 years) are treated like royalty. Crowned during Carnaval week in a theater-based, Miss-America-style pageant, contestants must excel in a similar question/answer and talent show gauntlet. I just have two cents: Why not have a queen-waving contest with points for gracefulness and timed ability – the longer you can keep both arms up and swaying above 45 degrees (while still smiling) the more points!

Gringo Theater
The longer we remain in Maz, the more unique activities we discover. One such place is called RecReo, a refurbished colonial structure turned recreation hall where expatriates put on small-scale English speaking plays, hold art galleries and show old movies. This group doesn’t have funds or space to do a real play with costumes or props, there’s not even a stage per se, although they do possess a few theater lights and a movie screen backdrop. Essentially a few actors sit in a small group in front of the audience, reading un-memorized lines to each other from screenplay booklets. Sounds a bit, well… odd. Right? Like I’m paying money to watch an audition?

I’d never heard of, nor attended, a “play-reading” prior. Surprisingly though, we relaxed in real, stadium movie theater seating while watching “The Cocktail Hour” with a full house of about 50 attendees. And it was actually quite good! Since the entire play took place in a family room with four actors, the audience doesn’t really need all that expensive scenery to tell an interesting story. If you feel the need to get your English theater on, this is the place to be.

Midget Cowboys
Here’s yet another unexpected cultural experience found in Mazatlan. We attended the above play-reading instead of the midget “Minion” cowboy rodeo show at the bullfighting arena that same night. Not kidding. Midget cowboys. Dressed as Minions (little yellow guys from the Pixar movie). What else is there to say? Wouldn’t THAT have been a great blog?

So there we were. Still in La Paz, just days prior to our scheduled departure for Mazatlan.

I had just gone to the tortilleria and purchased a half kilo of freshly made corn tortillas. There’s nothing like fresh tortillas right from the grill; warm, aromatic and pliable they are amazingly delicious. Toasty tortillas evoke the same comfort-food feeling as eating hot biscuits right from the oven. My 6” wide by 1” high stack was carefully wrapped in thin waxed paper and placed in a plastic bag. We ate some for dinner and I placed them on the counter overnight...

The following day I noticed a few tiny bits of shredded plastic and paper on the counter. Weird, I don’t remember catching that baggie on anything sharp. Hmmm…must have come from a grocery bag or something else. I clean it up.

Flash back to a couple days earlier… I had noticed a couple tiny apple-seed-sized black bits on the counter. Hmmm…they must be apple seeds or maybe crusty bits from the bottom core of an apple or maybe a piece of the rind from cutting an avocado. Eh. Whatever. I paper-towel it away and don’t even give it another thought. (The denial starts here.)

Flash forward to tortilla night #2. I open the pack again for more dinner tortillas to pair with some chili. I notice a dime-size half-moon divot punched down along the height of the entire stack. What the heck? Hmmm…I don’t THINK it came like that. But maybe it did. I must not have noticed before. Or maybe I punched my thumbnail down through it accidentally. (Denial is evident here… or just pure irrationality).

We EAT some of those tortillas. Oh, yeeeessss. We do.

Reality Bites
I must have done some higher mathematics in my sleep because immediately upon waking I had a sinking feeling. I knew. Finally, after all those signs, I put one and two and three together…and four actually. Rolling over on my side, I stared at Brian, pausing before I spit it out. I didn’t relish admitting my latent insight.

Me: “Honey, I think we have a mouse.”

Brian: “WHAT!!!?”

Me: “Let me ‘splain.” I go through my 3 signs and ponder the probable 4th.

Brian: “Wait. You made me eat tortillas that a MOUSE ate?!!!”

Me: Sigh. (Of course he has to focus in like a laser on THAT one.)

How could I NOT connect all those obvious dots!? Quite simple, Watson. Denial is a wondrous thing. Seriously? I deferred to the potential that my thumbnail carved through the entire stack and I didn’t remember that? We love to watch the TV series “Elementary” - Sherlock Holmes would be absolutely appalled by my pitiable deduction skills.

Sign #4
My midnight calculation triggered recollection of a couple Ziploc baggies that may have borne tiny ragged holes. I just assumed I had yanked them out of the cupboard too forcefully. It’s entirely plausible. I have multitudes of packaged food products double-bagged into Ziploc baggies. But the plastic can tear when you are constantly shoving them aside or removing to get at other items.

Confirmation
That day, we cleared out my food cupboards, checking each item. Low and behold, I found a ripped bag of pita chips, a leaking soft-pack of spaghetti sauce, torn powdered milk and an oatmeal pouch, all enclosed in barely-nibbled-through Ziplocs. Top that off with more “apple seeds”. Crap. Literally. That’s multiple proofs…we have a mouse. Or, God forbid, mice plural.

How does one come to acquire a mouse aboard?
It would not be difficult for a mouse to push under our draped screen door. And it most likely just strolled on up the dockline like a tightrope. Or scrambled up the fenders. Maybe even got dropped off by a hawk from above. Either way, mice can wreak hellacious havoc. If they don’t enjoy your food, count yourself lucky if they merely have a taste for clothing or linens. Plowing through expensive sails and cushions are not unheard of; even plastic water tanks and hoses are not off limits.

But they are especially known for eating through wires - the plastic sheathing makes for good nesting material apparently. If left unchecked, one tiny little guy could absolutely destroy a boat. We heard one such story of a cruiser who unwittingly left his sailboat for six months with a stowaway inside; he had to rewire the boat upon return – took months. Those cute little Feivels and Ratatouilles are not to be trifled with...

Now, I had been pretty compulsive about putting grains and such in airtight plastic bins, worried more about cockroaches. My OXO sealed bins are for cereal, rice, quinoa, brown sugar and couscous; I’ve got a few Ball’s glass canning jars for oatmeal and pecans and candies; I’ve got Lock & Locks for everything else from flour, sugar and coffee to open crackers, chips and cookies. Bay leaves in all, these have worked perfectly so far.

Lesson Learned – Ziplocs Are Not Enough
But…I had a TON of pre-packaged items like Knorr rice and pasta meals, single-size tunafish and spaghetti sauce pouches, Chilorio (shredded meat) and black bean soft-paks; chips and saltine crackers and Oreos are staples. But all this STUFF takes up lots of ROOM, room I don’t HAVE. If I had to place EVERYthing in bins I couldn’t fit as much! I had been storing such packets in Ziplocs to keep out bugs and allow better use of space. I thought it would be enough protection; but even packets made of heavy-duty aluminum lined plastics are not impervious to sharp teeth. Sigh. No more.

Bin-Binging
We immediately headed to the store and while I raided their lockable containers aisle, Brian stalked the mouse trap section. Once home, I crammed as much product as possible into my new massive pile of airtight bins. Alas, it wasn’t enough. Round 2…back to the store for more bins. I STILL had to give a few items away! I am now the container queen. Nearly every single food item, other than canned goods, are now encased in one form of bin or another. I can’t store nearly as much, but my foodstuffs are mouse-free. And I probably didn’t need all that food anyway. New motto: Hoard less, shop more.

Well? Did you get it?
Meanwhile, we set two standard mouse traps: one in an open cupboard and another on top of our engine lid. One with peanut butter; one with cheddar cheese. We also put out several little hand-made aluminum foil dishes of Raid pellets. The following night at about 1am… SNAP! Brian got up and gallantly got rid of the poor little guy so I didn’t have to witness the carnage. Awww…I know, he’s the best!

We set out the traps again for a couple days but luckily, there was only one. Which trap did Mighty Mouse go for? Cheddar cheese, of course! A mouse after my own heart.

Thoughts on life at Marina El Cid after two weeks:

Happenin’ Hotel
While Costa Baja Resort in La Paz is woefully lacking in tourists (except during Christmas and Easter), El Cid seemingly has no trouble keeping rooms filled to capacity. People are everywhere…in the pools, walking around, dining in the restaurants, frequenting the coffee-shop. Seems like every half hour, yet another tour boat heads out to sea: to the nearby island for snorkeling or beachcombing, whale watching tours, sunset cruises, banana-boat rides, mini-speed boat rentals. A pontoon boat leaves every 15 minutes, ferrying folks back and forth across the channel to the beach. While busier than we expected, this is a resort geared toward families, newlyweds and retirees, not spring-break-drunken-teenagers. So the people here have been great, just a lot more of them than we are used to.

Peculiar Photoshoot
One day nearing dusk, we heard (and felt) a professional photoshoot (wedding pics) going on in front of our boat. We “felt” it because the model was leaning on our boat. They didn’t ask. We were on board, but I don’t think they knew. Not cool. You just don’t lean on a stranger’s boat (unless you are talking to the owners), just like you don’t lean against someone’s house or motorcycle or car. But they weren’t hurting anything… so we didn’t protest.

Of course I didn’t think of this ‘til it was too late… I totally should have photo-bombed them…slowly and stealthily raising my head up through the forward hatch, eyes wide, hands against my cheeks, mouth forming a big “O”…you know, the classic Home Alone face. Darn it! Life is full of missed opportunities.

Daily Bingo
Poolside bingo occurs nearly every day at noon. From our boat, I can hear the game captain announcing each letter combo over loudspeaker in English, then in Spanish: “B5” / “bay cinco”, “M21 / “em-ay veinte y uno”. On the bright side, it is a good way to subliminally ingrain Spanish numbers into my brain. After that, the pool-party music starts. “Celebration” and “Macarena” again, yippee. Thankfully, the beat dies after 5pm. Unless there’s a wedding. Or fireworks. Or both. But then the real racket begins…the surge.

Say No to Surge
Bingo aside, Marina El Cid has numerous great attributes, but the single biggest downside is the surge. Since the marina is so close to the mouth of the breakwater, we get an unimaginable amount of surge due to the tide rushing in and out of this shallow area… not to mention all the tour boat wake activity. Indigo is constantly in motion, pushing and pulling against her lines… lurching this way and that. Sometimes I feel we may as well be at anchor. At Palmira we bounced up and down when it was windy; here we move side to side, all the time.

So we’ve frequently been waking up to groaning and moaning and grinding (and not in a good way).
At first, we kept Indigo secured well away from the dock, as per usual. But the resulting motion and creaking noise of lines stretching beyond their ability was too much to endure. Regular lines always loosen over time – but here, the forces of nature slim that time-frame down to nothing.

Wanted: “Surge Protectors”
After a few days, we began to notice something: people who have been here awhile use ratcheting tow webbing to wrench their boat super-snug against the dock, more-or-less minimizing the irritating movement and preventing line noise. We’d never seen tow-ropes used anywhere else. Usually you don’t want to be locked tight against the dock, grinding your fenders against the hull paint – eek, makes me cringe.

Throwing away conventional practice, we have tightened up to the dock as much as human strength allows…and it has helped tremendously. Still, last night at 3am, Brian wheedled me out of bed (I was already awake) to adjust lines that had loosened just enough to cause a most-unsleepable-through line squawk. We are now contemplating getting some of these…surge protectors.

Rope-Soaper
Additionally, I am soaping ropes every few days. Don’t laugh. Seriously, it’s an actual thing. I don’t know if anyone else has already named it, but if not, there it is. Rope-soaping is necessary to solve certain squeaks. On the sage advice from my boater friend and former boss Cindy, I keep a bar of Irish Spring handy to smear all over parts of the lines or chafe guard that rub against our hawseholes (holes in the sides of the boat through which we tie the boat to the dock). This immediately ceases the maddening creak of rubbing lines, minimizing sleepless nights, and thus irritated mornings… until it wears off in a few days. I should start soaping other boats’ ropes…as a courtesy.

Noisy Nights
On top of the surge chaos, there’s the bilge pump that goes off multiple times a night in a nearby boat making a distinct mechanical “er, er, er” sound exactly 38 times (yes, I counted) before it stops and starts up again a half hour later. Then there’s our neighbor’s boat hired hand who loudly rummages around in the dock box at 5am before washing the boat down every other day. And the dock ramp, a mere 4 feet away, which grinds the metal ramp on dock concrete every few minutes as the tide pushes it back up against the dock - like a slooowwly dying mechanical bull. Add to that the booming fireworks that occurred every night from Christmas to New Year’s…ay caramba! Not much REM sleep!

Marina Life = Noise
I have finally come to the realization (after all this time)… marina-life is LOUD! It’s too bad I can’t tolerate ear plugs.

• At Cabrillo Way Marina in San Pedro the wind noise and banging halyards defied belief, add in the occasional gunshot;
• At Spring Cove Marina in Maryland we had the transient party power boaters who wanted the entire town to enjoy their poor taste in music;
• Cabrillo Isle Marina in San Diego was directly across from the airport – enough said;
• Cabo San Lucas had its 6am refueling panga pandemonium and nightly pirate ship dance-fests;
• San Carlos had its daily drunken-singing-bachelorette-party-sunset-cruises and a boat who only listened to 80’s TV show themes …”Come and knock on our door…” (I secretly didn’t mind so much);
• At Palmira we endured the pterodactyl macaw and Taylor Swift enthusiasts;
• Costa Baja had the Fun Baja tour boats flitting in and out all day, plus competing restaurant musicians;
• Even our awesome and typically quiet Camp Pendleton Marina had military amphibious vehicles raising a ruckus in their high-powered speedboats (OK that IS their JOB); but let’s not forget the civilian jerk with the excruciatingly loud personal hovercraft. And I must not fail to mention a certain someone yelling "Tack!" all weekend-long through her bullhorn at the poor sailing students:)
• I have no illusions about our own contributions to the typical marina melee. We were the cause of many such annoying disturbances ourselves while getting the boat ready to leave. Between the sawzall, electric drill, and circular saw... the banging and hammering and tinkering noises... not to mention all the expletives launched at some such uncooperative boat part...I'm surprised we weren't yelled at through the bullhorn! (and probably deserved it!)

Conclusion: there’s just no such thing as a “quiet” marina. Living in a house is SO much more peaceful!

Happy with Our Stay at El Cid
Other than the surge and the busy activity of the marina, we’d definitely stay here again. The hotel is lovely and clean; the semi-tropical grounds are well maintained; we have magnificent beach access; the restaurants are very good; there’s a bus stop right out front; the dock water is potable (not always available in Mexico); the pool is warm and sparkling and the hot tub is HOT. Plus, we get free access to massive fluffy pool towels. And the internet ROCKS (for Mexico) - El Cid DOES have the corner on the market so far.

Major plus: the bathrooms. It’s ridiculous how much a hot shower and clean restrooms make me happy… not to mention reliably flushable toilets (you don’t realize how much of a luxury that is until you come to Mexico).

After being here for two weeks we found out there’s even a TV cable plug-in at the dock box. What? You mean we can get ACTUAL LIVE TV… like, in English? Next trip: Home Depot to buy a cable cord so Brian can catch up on his news shows. On second thought, maaaybe we should remain in our blissful head-in-the-sand, mostly news-free universe.

And now for another nap. I sleep better to the thumping beat of The Macarena than the erratic whine of The Dockline Grind.

How time flies. I didn’t realize just how long we’d been here until I got a complaint - no blog entries since xmas... WTH? Yeah, well…we’ve been busy!

Mazatlán, with its population of nearly a half-million, makes for a bit of a culture shock to us small-towners. La Paz feels like a sleepy little village by comparison. Mazatlan is a real metropolis with dozens of major stores (they even have multiple Walmarts), several movie theaters, a beautiful brand new mall, hundreds of beachfront hotels and condos, world-class restaurants, a downtown historic district, a major airport and cruise ship terminal…and thus loads of people. Tourists, taxis and trinkets, oh my.

Discovery
In a city of this size, it takes us a while to figure things out. Daily, I research “things to do” via the internet. Tripadvisor.com & mazatlanlife.com & mazatlantoday.net are go-to sites.  But the most important and accurate method of obtaining info on a new city is to mercilessly interrogate other newly-arrived cruisers. What did you discover today, how do you get there, was the restaurant good, how much was it, where exactly is that tequila factory… etc., etc. Several of us arrived within a few days, so we are all on the same discovery train together, comparing notes and exchanging helpful tips when we run into each other on the docks. But the best way to find things? Lots of walking.

Not Your Typical Tourist
We prefer to take our time and do one new activity a day. And we never run around all day and all night like typical tourists on a 7-day time-crunch. Yes, I do remember those days… force-feeding each precious moment chock full of activities within our severely limited amount of vacation-time, thereby craving another vacation after our vacation and ultimately catching a cold from all the stress. Funny, I still have some difficulty releasing that mentality. But oh, how freeing to possess this luxury of time; we are immeasurably fortunate.

But for practicality’s sake, going slow saves us from contracting that dreaded and contagious disease “travel trauma”, symptoms which can include: fatigue, sluggishness, irritability leading to extreme whining, severe hunger (again leading to extreme whining), loss of orientation or just plain lost, sunburn, dehydration, urge to pee with no restroom in sight and wrenched back from walking 10 miles in one day. Wait, OK, sometimes these things still happen. Still, we try not to recreate forced marches, Brian IS retired after all. Plus, heck… we just wouldn’t want to tax ourselves. Need more hot tub time. Not less.

First Two Weeks in Mazatlán
So it took about a week just to get our bearings; and another week just to finally get comfortable with the place. The size of this city is bit intimidating at first, but we have warmed up to it and, after peeling back some layers, found it very interesting. Here’s an approximate rundown of our 2 weeks.

Christmas: Arrive after 48 hours at sea. Check-in, breakfast, tour pools and hotel grounds, relax, Christmas celebration dinner with buddy-boaters "Starfire".

Day 1: Wash the outside of the boat. (You’d be amazed how much salt can cling to a boat after only 3 days.) Clean and put everything away that’s strewn around inside from overnighting: (jackets, lee-cloths, blankets, sleeping bag, etc.) Discover pool. Internet rocks here!

Day 2: Taxi-ride to the mall to watch Star Wars with "Starfire". Yes, aside from getting the boat clean, this was our first priority. 2 tickets for @$9 total! Sipping wine and snacking on pizza while lounging in cushy recliner chairs is a divine way to see this great film. Fresh gelato in the mall!

Day 3: First venture downtown via 50 cent bus-ride with "Starfire". Walk through the crazy, claustrophobic-inducing Pino-Suarez market covering an entire city block and filled with everything from pig heads & pineapples to sombreros and buckets 'o shrimp. Stroll down the ocean-side Malecon. Stop at Hotel de Cima’s restaurant Del Mar 48: best breakfast skillet ever (loads of cheese + sour cream) and fresh OJ mimosas!

Day 4: Rest by pool. Too much walking yesterday! Hamburgers and drinks at the pool restaurant. Laundry day.

Day 5: Try another bus ride downtown. Buy veges at market. Discover the beautiful cathedral. Lunch near Plaza Machado, a quaint, colonial town square… finally, a quiet refuge in the midst of this big city. Buy fresh and uber-delicious brownies at Dolce Mami bakery.

Day 6: New Year’s Eve! Lovely potluck dinner on board "Sea Dancer" with "Harmony, BC" and "Starfire". Fireworks displays from multiple resorts kept us awake for hours upon hours!

Day 7: Walk 3 miles to the nearby Marina Mazatlan. Shrimp ceviche for lunch at Gus y Gus. Hot tub! It’s windy and “cold” today, so the hot tub is juuust right.

Day 8: Taxi to Walmart to re-stock cheese (OK other stuff too). Watch movies all day in the boat.

Day 9: Free shuttle ride to breakfast buffet on the beach at the sister hotel, El Cid Morro. Walk the tourist beach in the Hotel Golden Zone (Zona Dorada). Tour of the marina harbor and estuary in "Starfire’s" dinghy. Frosty cervezas at Chill & Grill on a warm day.

Day 10: A very long and very high walk to “El Faro”, the 2nd highest natural lighthouse in the world (after Gibraltar) at 523ft above sea level. Made it back to the historic district for lunch at Delirium for amazing tacos and delightful cucumber/mint water before we died of exhaustion.

Day 11: Too much stair-climber yesterday - Brian’s back got wrenched! Not going anywhere today. What did I say about taking it easy?

Day 12: Dinner and a walk down the Malecon with "Starfire" before they head south. Our friends on “Cuba Libre” arrived from the States. As did “Lokomaika’i” and “Swagman”, sailing in from Marina Palmira in La Paz. Lots of dockside chatting. Now that we’ve been here over a year, it’s funny how often we’ll see a sailboat show up in a marina and say “Hey look, it’s so-and-so!”

Day 13: Tacos al pastor y quesadillas with "Cuba Libre" at a delish taco stand. Discovered "gorditas", mildy sweet, puffed-up tacos for 6 pesos. That's about 35-cents. Night tour of the city by car with "Cuba Libre", for whom Maz is essentially their second home.

Staying for Carnaval
All in all, we can’t complain. We continue to peel back some of those layers and are discovering unique aspects of Mazatlán life. While it is a bit too busy of a city for our tastes, we will be staying through the first week of February to attend Carnaval. Mazatlán boasts (according to some websites) the 3rd largest Carnaval (Mardi Gras) in the world (after Rio and New Orleans) attracting upwards of 500,000 visitors. It is, at the very least, the oldest and possibly largest in Mexico, with only Veracruz rivaling. While we’re not exactly fond of crowds, we may as well stay an extra couple weeks and take advantage of the opportunity. Elaborate parades, delicious food, music galore, even a mock naval battle with fireworks...now THAT should be interesting!