MAZATLAN, Mexico – No sooner did things seem to be going perfectly than Roby and myself both came down with Montezuma’s revenge. We have spent about as much time in the bathroom here as we have swimming in the ocean, but today I think we’re both healthy enough for the bus ride to Puerto Vallarta.
At least Pierre had fun in the city, though he was almost murdered by a Mexican boogie board gang on Monday.
It is beautiful here, however dated the H.R. Puffinstuff-inspired art on the Olas Altas promenade may seem. In Old Mazatlan where we’re staying (haven’t even bothered to check out the more modern-looking part of town), it’s a dirty beach town that passed its heyday, but it’s clearly gone through a revitalization in the last 10 years and is on the upswing. Maybe five blocks away from the beach is the Plazuela Machado, which comes alive at night with Christmas lights decorating the park in the center and live acoustic music pouring out of fancy restaurants. We walked down one side of the little park before dinner and smiled at a peanut vendor in his 50s, sleeping sitting up on a bench. After dinner, my last meal before Montezuma snuck up on me, we walked the other side of the park, and saw the same peanut vendor sleeping on the bench opposite from his first spot.
The people here are just as nice as those we’ve met anywhere else in Mexico, and the retired gringos who pop up at outdoor cafes along the beach are also eager to get to know you. But the friendliness of the people in Latin America is something I am already familiar with, and one of the reasons I keep coming back.
I was reluctant to shower at all here in my weakened state, and when I have showered it’s taken only about an hour to sweat myself back into a hot mess. All of my clothes are dirty, and I haven’t shaved in weeks at this point, and the hair on my head is standing like a rooster’s. I am the towering spectacle of that which is rude, dirty and presumably rich gringo. I decided the other night though that when I put my glasses on I go from beach bum to beach scientist and have been wearing them around ever since.
We head for the bus station in less than two hours, and I have to put everything up in my bag again. For those who don’t know, I am making this 4-, 5-, 6-month trip with one 70-liter hiking pack (thanks to former REI employee Adi Nevo for picking it out) and then a regular Jansport school backpack. It holds just what I need to get by with room to spare, so long as each time I re-pack I do so just as meticulously as when I was loading it up back home in Spanish Fort.
I’ve taken a lot of pictures and I know this blog would be more interesting with some art, but my camera won’t work with a MacBook. I will make some picture posts as soon as I get the motivation to find a PC, I promise.
Hasta la vista.
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