Madness in Mazatlán

I’ve been searching for a way to neatly summarize Mazatlán, but it won’t reduce to something easy for blog format. It is a resort-town, but also not so much; it’s kind of half in the desert and half in the jungles of its neighbours to the south. Look at a map: it feels too far to the north, which it is and so suffers from being a part of the troubles of Sinaloa. The city is too jumbled, sprawling, still coming into its own but also steeped in history.

Although the hotels spread far to the north (and the ‘Zona Dorada’ really does sprawl a ridiculous distance), the historic center is compact and energetic. At the same time, this motion feels hampered by chaos and decrepitude that can make it hard to navigate, let alone fall in love with. Still, people do. Almost in spite of itself, the city remains intriguing; worth spending some time to uncover.

Mazatlán is another place I came to as a youth, breaking longstanding trends by staying at a resort. Our vacations were always road trips, but this time we came by air. I remember a Hotel Flores (far from the Centro, the hotel zone might as well be on the moon) and a day trip to a nearby island with a clean, protected beach. More than anything, I remember the road in from the airport, the apparent madness on the streets and the important lesson that traffic does not stop for pedestrians in this place.

Then, as an ill-advised cap to my high-school career, I arrived here again in July of 2002 with a horde of other stupid teens in search of cheap alcohol and sun. The less said about that trip the better, but it provided me with some interesting context as we arrived 20 years later to see what it might offer me now.

We stayed on the edge of Centro. Too hectic for some, maybe, but unless you are at resort (and then, how did you get here?) there’s no reason to consider alternatives. Still, it’s not all easy. That first day, after getting off the boat and to our place, we went for a stroll. It did not go well. A simple case of walking ‘the wrong way’ we felt lost in a jumble of blocks with shuttered shops, perilous sidewalks and badly neglected buildings. I was disappointed and overwhelmed – street level was a mess. Was it going to be like this for the five days we had booked?

Our first order of business was to check out the Faro, a lighthouse/viewpoint situated atop a steep hill at the mouth of the harbour. Although it definitely gets talked up online, we had no idea just how popular the climb would be. We saw the line of cabs here, early, dropping off Mexican tourists and then soon after the sign prohibiting dogs, food and drink with a guard keeping order. This was most unexpected: dogs go everywhere in Mexico, but apparently not here. So we drove back, dropped the dog and returned for a second attempt, this time on foot seeing the way was straightforward. I’m so glad we didn’t give up.

It is a good climb up. Not long, but certainly steep, and relentless, and patronized by many Mexican tourists who did not seem ready for this type of exertion. Along the way are signs reminding walkers to to take in breaks and water and it’s not a joke. We were both sweating in the mid morning. And on foot, we got more than a hike up a hill, exploring the cliffside walk that extends up and over the hill at the end of the malecom. This morning walk was a chance to ‘take in’ the area in a way that you don’t get in a car. We love exploring new places on foot and if you find the right places, Mazatlán can offer you this.

So more on the malecon (that we were lucky to be staying within a two minute walk). This is something the city definitely did right. Like many places in Mexico (but often not elsewhere) the beach belongs to the people and providing access is important. It would have been very easy to put the hotels on the ocean side of the street, but they did not. From the cliffs edging Centro, round the curve of the first beach, then around the corner to the Zona Dorado and further still, there is an unbroken stretch of wide, flat sidewalk complemented by separated bike lane. The sea breeze felt fresher here than in La Paz and shade seemed more plentiful. It’s a great way to feel the vibe of the place.

We did some traditional things here, too. We considered going to a waterpark (there are a couple on the outskirts) but downgraded to the aquarium. It’s not great, but it’s not bad for a couple hours. If you go, make sure to go to the city park as well (immediately next door). Most of the park is oddly quiet and empty (good iguana spotting however), but they do have an area displaying local animals. Think of it as a mini-zoo. Snakes, owls, toads and the like are kept here and the cages looked well cared for. No cost!

Still carrying on the trend of cooking nearly all our food (if we didn’t, we would have blown our budget for the whole trip by now), we decided to take a break and splurge on something special. That was ATOL, a new spot in a very non-descript part of Centro that is sure to blow up soon. Or maybe not. The owner/chef didn’t seem worried about it either way. With a loose, cook what-I-have-on-hand menu, simple decor, and casual service, the focus is all on the food. When we sat down, we were the only guests. So we sat at the bar and watched him prepare a set of dishes he recommended, with a little guidance from us. Imagine getting a personal chef experience with high quality food anywhere at home. It would be expensive. This reasonably priced experience (relative to what you get) was totally worth it.

A couple days into our five night stay, Sarah got sick. The kind of lay you out, can’t eat or drink for a day and takes a week to recover your strength kind of sick. So I spent a day on my own, walking the streets in search of Gatorade and anti-nausea pills. By this point, I was finally figuring out the ins and outs of Cento. What streets were good for walking, where the restaurants are, the shortcut round the hill, crossing a street without fear. The best of Centro fans inland from the beach at Olas Altas. Come here for sunsets and coffee shops. This is where Mazatlán began as a tourist spot, back when the term meant something different. and you can picture rugged stars in the 60s stopping here for drinks and some Mexican spirit. A walk towards Plaza Machado is full of interesting streets. There are still many empty store fronts, but even these are well maintained and interspersed with cool spots to have a drink or a meal.

Again, our location was both helpful and tragic. Across the street was a park where I could Gidget off leash and spend some time at the outdoor ‘gym’. There was a Christmas market one evening. The malecon was right there or you could wander up Ice Box hill behind us for more views. It was this lookout that attracted a never-ending stream of Mexican tourists. Everyone had to go up and take a look. And this was something we could not get used to in Mazatlán, the non-stop ‘party’ taxis zipping everywhere. It might be a truck or ones that looked like a golf cart, either way with music blasting as they revved up the hill, did the circuit then came back down. The eager tourists would head up just after 8, while others would be zipping along after midnight. I admit, it looked like fun. Also annoying when it’s on your front door.

Then, at last, I also got sick in Mazatlán. This was simply something that was going to happen. Maybe it was the fresh cheese we bought and both consumed. Maybe it was something else. Either way, it was time to go. The morning after the illness descending on me, we had to pack up the car and head south towards Puerto Vallarta. It was a long drive and I was impressed that I kept it myself together throughout. (More on our few lazy weeks skipping from beach to beach, upcoming…)

Somewhere in there, when Sarah was recovering and before I went off a cliff, we made it to a craft brewery that I would highly recommend. On the other side of Centro (towards the cruise ships and coincidentally ATOL), Tres Islas knows what it’s doing with beer. While there are many brands of cerveza in Mexico (Corona, Tecate, Pacifico, Dos Equis, Modelo, etc.) they are mostly all the same and it was such a relief to get something different. The space is small, but everyone cool in Mazatlán seems to pass through. Get them to fill a liter can for you to go (sometimes called ‘crowlers’ back home and I think they use the same word here).

It felt good to put the Baja behind us and move on to the next chapter of the adventure. Mazatlán may not be the warmest welcome, but there is certainly lots to explore. If you come, be sure to search out the calm, wonderfully restored streets around Olas Altas. Take your time, as well. Like a lot of Mexico, the good stuff takes a little longer to uncover.