flâneur: “from the French masculine noun flâneur—which has the basic meanings of "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", "loafer"… or "a person who walks the city in order to experience it". (wiki.com)
la flâness: sexier, female version of the above.Archive for March 27, 2010
Hotel Lerma, in Mazatlan
I arrived in sunny Mazatlan around six in the morning after my grueling overnight bus from Los Mochis.
Dewy morning sunshine seemed to float in the warm air. A very friendly pulmonia driver greeted me instantly – pulmonias are the new taxis here, and kind of like glorified golf carts that are allowed to drive on highways. He was nice enough to take me to each of the two hotels I`d been deciding between: The first, Hotel Rio, was slightly more expensive and very well recommended, but the second, Hotel Lerma, looked cute, and of course was cheaper. He cautioned me against taking the cheaper alternative - advice that I heeded respectfully – but after checking out my would-be room at Lerma, and meeting the kind family that owned it, I was sold. It seemed as safe as safe goes, though minimal, and had a wide courtyard in the centre. It was cute, clean, family oriented (though not something I normally opt for, here it added to the ambiance), and comfortable. Besides, the man was nice and was going to give me a great price ($120 pesos a night… about $10 Cdn. for my own cute little room with a private full bath and window), whereas Hotel Rio had already upped their prices for Semana Santa.
I hopped in bed for a morning nap… in the afternoon I`d check out the town, and try to get in touch with my best friend`s parents, who just happened to be in town for the week (it was their last night!) staying at a new and very ritzy resort up the beach.
No More Cooper, No More Cold! The Long Road to Mazatlan Without Panties
Saying goodbye to my Swiss Miss was tough!
I loved Panties, and she was the only one I`d travelled with so far! But, being as it was, we had always seen it coming exactly when it would… so without thinking too much, we hugged, took more wacky pics together (maybe fifty or so?), and I set off back South in hopes to warm my toes once again and meet some Torontonian friends in Mazatlan. The cool air in the high altitudes of Cooper Canyon had been rough on my delicate, beach-loving system…
Panties would stay in Las Barrancas for another day or two before (like most Euros) heading up North to discover the shining shores of California.
So I hopped on the CHEPE around 12PM (first class again! Damn tight schedule…), only hoping I would please catch a bus at a semi-decent hour out of Los Mochis. They were supposed to run every hour and a half or so…
I was lonely for the first hour or two until our favorite playful train conductor hopped on at… well, I`m not sure where exactly it was he hopped on at, but somewhere along the route South of Divisidero.
He spotted me instantly and came to sit down and chat a little.
The rest of the trip was essentially like that. Me reading, and sitting around in different places around the train; him finding me, and plopping down next to me doing everything he could to entertain.
He kind of looked like Slater, from Saved by the Bell, and joked around like him too. This all made my 11 hour journey so much more enjoyable.
Though as his Méxican-style flirtation increased in intensity (“chicitita (giggle), mamasita“, etc.) I grew slightly annoyed. “Why did guys have to be like that here?“ I wondered. “Always putting on a show! There is no way Méxican girls like this!“ But he was cute anyway. They always have to go and ruin it…
Then he snuck up behind me pretending to read over my shoulder a letter I was writing to a much cooler boy back home… though I didn`t think he could read written English. I blushed anyway. And then he kissed me.
In my seat! (I was laughing so hard in my head!) But he had a little conductors hat, and an outfit to match, so I took the experience in, and tried not to giggle out loud.
Besides, it got me an invitation to movie night in the last car, with the security guards with the big guns. And THAT made my trip just perfect. The time passed like it was nothing! I smiled at my good fortune, where I was, and at my most interesting day. I wanted Panties to be there so badly…
Later, I took an intermission from movie night and watched the sun set over the mountains from my first class seat on my CHEPE train ride. I looked around between the seats to try and determine which, if any, families had witnessed my illicit make-out session with Slater the CHEPE train conductor…
And by then we were only about an hour away from Los Mochis!
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I hopped a short cab ride with a couple friendly German dudes; we had wanted to split the price, but the driver just ended up making it more expensive because there were three of us! 
Lesson Learned: The prices for cab rides, especially from bus and/or train stations are essentially fixed, a lot of the time per person… and the drivers will gang up on you like some informal union to ensure they get the price originally quoted. Send one person up alone to negotiate a price, and you will be better off.
The Germans were spending the night here before heading to Mazatlan, whereas I meant to go right away, spending another night on a bus.
The CHEPE train, my ride, and the bus service was just all a little too efficient for me that evening… and because I didn`t want to arrive in Mazatlan at some ungodly time in the early morning, I decided to skip out on the first two buses that rolled through, and wait around Los Mochis` smallest, and sketchy-as-all-hell bus station for an extra two and a half hours to catch the latest bus.
Trying so very hard not to pass out, I read the Kite Runner as enthusiastically as I could and took long, deep breaths. Luckily, there was a sizable crew of young, loud and obnoxious Méxican guys around my age, who looked like they were heading out somewhere fun for Semana Santa - the week-long Easter Break here in Méx.
I was relieved to get onto my bus – it turned out to be packed full, and everyone was already sleeping. I slid in to a seat in the front to pass out, only to be sufficiently creeped out about an hour later, when I was woken up in the night by the assistant bus driver (and he was a close talker!) to `discuss my bus ticket`.
I was displeased. SO very displeased. But I figured it was the universe telling me that perhaps I`d simply had too much fun on my last long ride…
Creel y Las Barrancas del Cobre
Creel is a dusty, sleepy little place.
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The town`s epicentre are the railroad tracks that bring in CHEPE train twice daily, at a minimum. Quiet hotels, a few hostels, bars and restaurants, adventure companies and laundromats occupy the rest of the space in `downtown` Creel.
Tour guides, hotel owners, school kids and Tarahumara Indiginea make up most of the local population you`ll see on the streets. The Tarahumara seem to exist separately from the remainder of he population here; you will often see them selling fine artisanery, such as their colourful crafts and quilts, and they rarely smile.
The town`s saving grace is that it`s surrounded by some of the most beautiful and remote mountainous land in all of México. Apart from the CHEPE train (that was originally used to transport gold), there isn`t really any easy way in, or through this landscape. Creel, however, provides an easy and well situated base for day, and multi-day hikes through the many Canyons.
Most people opt for a tour, and don`t bother renting a car – the terrain is tricky and can be dangerous to navigate even for the most experienced off-road drivers! It is common to arrive in Creel, and plan your trip there. A lot of the tour companies are quite informal, though organized, and many visitors rely on finding other members to fill a group (and thus diminish the price per person) once at their hotel or hostel in Creel. For this reason, the town`s hostels are very popular (communal dinners are provided at most), as is Casa Margarita, a socially-oriented hotel with a bustling main courtyard (the hostel of the same name however, is incredibly unorganised, unhelpful, and slow to assist with any enquiries). If you have a group and time to wander around a bit (and either don`t mind carrying your bag, or leave it somewhere) a little walk around the streets, especially on the North side of the railway tracks, could land you a cheaper and cleaner accommodation… especially if you haggle for your price. Hotel owners here are generally quite friendly, and most can organise a good tour. The prices will be agreeable as well, especially if you have a group (of at least three) already.
Alternatively to booking your trips through your hotel or hostel, Los 3 Amigos offers the best, most knowledgable tours for equally fair prices.
Though I would have loved to do a two or three day tour into the bottom of one of the canyons, I only had a few days, and opted for variety instead. Two or three day tours also end to be more expensive as well, as they often include nicer accommodation in lodges in the basin. A nice older lady was kind enough to tell me that this was absolutely the highlight of her trip, and that I “really missed out“. I told her, “Thanks“. (Anyone sense my sarcasm?)
Panties and I opted for a relaxed day long tour where we hit the major mountain peaks and look out points. Great for pictures… though it was not terribly exciting being driven from point to point. We wished we could have done more hiking around. But we did get to see all the best views, the infamous `penis rock` and meet loads of Tarahumari locals and check out their crafts.
The other trip we opted for was less of a tour and more of a `drive`: we arranged with a man at our hostel to drive us to and from what we thought were `natural hot springs`. He dropped us at the main road and we were to walk all the way down to the springs, and then hike our way back up. We were happy to include the hiking we missed in our last tour, with HOT SPRINGS and relaxation. We were pumped!
We walked for about an hour down into the canyon – and the views were incredible – but when we got down to the springs we saw that they were not natural at all! Nor were they very hot…
It was more like rerouted water into what were clearly manmade pools, with a trickle of a waterfall running into it. But one was kind of warm – warm enough to keep us from shivering anyway – so we decided to enjoy what we could get and go to the hot tub at the gym in the Best Western later on (they only charge you $100 pesos or so to use the facilities).
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There was one really good bar in town with live music that everybody recommended. It`s packed with tourists and locals alike. It`s on a corner, on the main street, Mateos; and though I`ve forgotten the name, you`ll hear about it, no question, if you do find yourself in Creel. If you don`t, it will likely be the only one with any real action, so just listen up!
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Though we did wish for more time, we were happy to get to Las Barrancas when we did. For now, it is a pretty obscure destination on the overall tourist trail – for México travel or simply hiking and outdoor tripping in general. The US of A has lef us to believe the Grand Canyon is the be all, end all of North American canyon trekking, but in fact Cooper Canyon is wider, and deeper… and harder to traverse.
For now, it`s mostly a cozy older crowd (mostly Canadians actually) retired or on the verge of, milling around Cooper Canyon. Being so close to Canada and the US, and relatively affordable, we figured Cooper will blow up in the next decade or so as an adventure destination, especially with the CHEPE train being as nice and fast as it is. This would change not only Creel, but also Los Mochis and Chihuahua (at the Northern end of the CHEPE rail line) entirely… not to mention the local populations, most of all the Tarahumari Indians who already seem to be sick of selling their work to the curious tourists snapping their pictures.
But, I must say… the Canadian Rockies are way better…
