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 28, 2010
Coloured Sounds of Mazatlan
Another perk for Hotel Lerma? The sound of the typewriter clicking away in the first floor window… I love it. I heard it when I was out getting my breakfast – huevos revueltos*, chilaquiles**, fresh tortillas and instant coffee - from the old lady across the street.
Later that day, I tripped and fell over a tope - tall and pointy Méxican speed bumps.
The beach was teeming with vibrantly-coloured kites and the shrieks of the small children flying them. The people below kept one eye on them at all times – the occasional misguided kite would come firing down without warning.
The faint smell of just caught fish mixed with sunscreen. The breeze was just cool and constant enough to refreshing.
Méxican families – local and tourist – and couples and packs of teenage boys strutting “tough“ packed every inch of the sand. Mariachis singing to picnicking families in front of endless seafood restaurants with palapa roofs. Semana Santa was beginning to unfold. The beach was oozing enjoyment!
I sit alone, reading my book: muy tranquillo.
The action that surrounds me is intoxicating! Yet somehow I`m more mellow for it. I wonder if I`ll return here at some other point in my life. Different places are for different people, and for different times. Mazatlan is a killer family vacation spot, for one week or more - with it`s long beaches, malecon, party scene, yummy seafood… its colonial architecture and pulsing city-feel. Something for everyone!
I melt into my spot in the sand and breathe.
…
The kids take over many parts of the beach, and then some parts are just suddenly and entirely abandoned and tranquil.
Then at the end of the Zona Dorada (after Senior Frogs – Mazatlan`s favorite bar and merchandise provider! – and where the beach curves to the right), the infamous Joe`s Oyster Bar gets most of the action. It sits right on the beach and is rammed – RAMMED – with people (many underage in Canada…) by the time I get there around five thirty or so. Everyone is here to party for Semana Santa! They spill out onto the beach, hang over the sides and dance on tables! There is one older (though only about 35 or 40) blonde-ish foreign couple perched on the side. They are looking around with delighted faces… but seem to be questioning what exactly it is they`ve fallen into! Méxican SPRING BREAK BABY!!
This may just be the Méxicans` Cancun!
The beach surrounding Joe`s however, is sick. Groups of people party there, drink beer and camp out all day – either leaving their trash there or tossing empty beer cans into the ocean… which just either washes them onto the already nasty shore or sweeps them out to sea. It`s a disaster, even with the few city workers there to clean up. THIS is sick.
But the ceviche I eat on the malecon on the way home cheers me right up… and I head home to shower and pack my things. Another overnight bus. My beach break is over – I`m headed in-land to Zacatecas.
…
*scrambled eggs
**traditional Méxican breakfast food of cooked torilla chips in tomatoe sauce and chillis
Break Time: Turning Points and Resort Life in Mazatlan
I woke up around 11 or 12, and already felt at home in my little blue room in Hotel Lerma. I was refreshed! And decided it was time to get up, get out, and get some brekky. Time for my day to begin.
I wandered the area where I was staying – I was in Old Mazatlan; not quite downtown, and not yet part of the Zona Dorada (the Golden Zone of hotels and touristy amenities). All of Old Mazatlan – from the Market to the Boardwalk (Mazatlan is famous for its long Malecon, always filled with strollers, rollerblading tourists and bikers*) – seemed only to have fish and ceviche for sale… which was not the breakfast food I was looking for. I ended up getting a licuado (smoothie) at a Greek stand (?) in the far part of the market, close to downtown) to tide myself over as I wandered the hectic and picturesque colonial streets to the South end of the Malecon.
The smell of fish crept up on me (somehow, in a good way…), and I knew I was approaching the Malecon. Fishermen lined the entire thing, catching and selling their fresh goods to restaurants and passersby.
The beach downtown was small and relaxed, with several tourists and locals wasting away a perfect mid-afternoon in the sun. I walked back up towards my hotel beside the beach, on the Malecon, passing the many sculptures, restaurants, bars and souvenir vendors along the way – Mazatlan seemed to have endless picture-perfect viewpoints. Families, couples holding hands and police men on bicycles traversed the Malecon.
I ended up grabbing a simple egg, bean, tomato and tortilla breakfast for $35 pesos across from Hotel Lerma, made fresh by the cutest old lady. I promised my self I would go there again tomorrow morning.
I decided to take it with me for some down time at a little drive-through cafe called Caffino I`d spotted on the Malecon, that had internet and yummy flavoured lattes, American style.
It was decision time for me – I`d reached the point in my trip where I had originally planned to take the ferry over to the Baja Peninsula for a little adventure and to meet my friend and yoga instructor near Cabo San Lucas. I`d really wanted to go! I`d heard nothing but great things about the peninsula, and the landscape was supposed to be breathtaking, and unlike other areas in México! Besides, I was doing a full México trip! I almost needed to see it (I`d convinced myself)!
But I was running out of time and money (though I didn`t yet have a ticket home, I had an estimated time to meet a friend down South) and really didn`t want to rush any part of my trip. And I wanted to take Spanish lessons. And I lived in Canada – which, relatively speaking, isn`t so far away… AND I love California. So, because the ferry ticket was so expensive (about $85 American Dollars, one way!) and I`d likely have to rush myy time there anyway… I appeased myself by saying I`d do some crazy roadtrip there one day – hopefully West across Canada from Toronto, before heading down through California until I reached the Baja, minus the rest of México. One day!
Oh the joys of lone travel! No public consultation… just decisions based on my own wants and needs. Mmmm… this was new!
In celebration of actually making a decision (I`m notoriously bad for this!) I headed up the boardwalk a little, to enjoy a bit more of the day… and decided it was time to scout of my friend`s parents.
I ran home to change and caught another friendly pulmonia to the Riu Emerald Resort. It was ridiculously far – for everything that Mazatlan is (its gorgeous colonial architecture, it`s crazy Carnival, it`s laid back, very Méxican city-beach culture), it is best known for it`s 16kms of beach, stretching from the very pretty Olas Atlas (downtown Maz) through Old Maz and the slightly dirtier and more bustling Zona Dorada, and across through the newest resort spaces to the north. The Riu Emerald was at the far end of the new area, and though reachable by bus (the transportation here is great, and well connected) you would have to transfer in the Zona Dorada if coming from anywhere further South.
Luckily, I have honed my haggling skills over the years, and had asked the chicas at Caffino how much a pulmonia would cost to get there. I slightly understated that quoted price to the driver and assured him they (being locals!) had told me that was how much it should be. We agreed on something that suited both of us, and chatted about the city`s development in the little flying golf cart, all the way.
…
I pulled into the Riu Emerald… and the luxury oozed into me. It had been a while since I`d done anything really overly luxurious, and it was clearly time for me to appreciate this place a little. For sake of balance. 
I was happy and slightly flabbergasted… but I didn`t let the employees sense my excitement. I wanted to look like I belonged… precisely because I didn`t have a room, nor even a number for my friends, and would have to swindle my way past security somehow!
The Riu was the tallest, whitest palace on the strip – it`s spotless exterior solicited envy from all other beach and resort-goers; it`s exquisitely furnished marble interior sparkled with newly constructed luxury.
I looked up “Mis Padres de un Otra Hermana“ at reception (“My parents to another sister“… which I thought was funny but only inspired baffled looks from the people behind the desk) and called their room. Nobody answered.
I figured they were on the beach enjoying their last sunset in México… and somehow managed to get a bell boy to escort me around the entire complex to “search for them“ and essentially kill time until they got back to their room.
It worked! I checked out every last restaurant the place had (everything from martini bars, to pool-side lounges, to sushi, wine and steak, buffet and traditional Méxican), its many pools, its beach, and its common areas. An exquisite place… for a resort. But so very strange to be in… it didn`t at all feel like México in there (everyone was essentially Canadian). A trip away from my trip I suppose, a little transportation device home.
My otha Mum came down to pick me up after we eventually got a hold of her, and one by one the Poole`s kept me company in the front lobby while the other showered off their day and got ready for dinner. It was so nice to see them! The first familiar faces in a month or so… and some of my favorites! They treated me to an unlimited pass in their resort, which brought with it unlimited food, booze and luxury. I was stoked!
Dozens of fancy cocktails and martinis, a ridiculous feast, tons of fun, music and lots of love later, I found myself in another taxi on my way home with a sack full of booze from their all-inclusive hotel room. They insisted I take it – it was free, after all! I loaded up my closet at Hotel Lerma, with waterbottles of white rum (which I only once mistook for water!) and Dos Equis Cervezas. It occured to me that I likely wouldn`t drink it here, being on my own and on a little quiet break… but I resolved to bag it and take it with me to my next destination where I`d likely be staying in a hostel.
Thanks Pooles, for being so fun and awesome – you`re like second parents to me! And for giving me the luxurious break I needed to tide me over the next few months!
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*I wanted so badly to rent rollerblades or a bike here, but I found it very hard to find a place with rentals! Even many hotels and taxi drivers I consulted didn`t know where to get them! Though by the time I found this recommendation online, it was too late for me, if you are looking for a bike or blade rental try Kelly`s Bike Rental, at Avienda Camron Sabalo 204. Local 10. In the Zona Dorada.
