When I first arrived in Mexico, with nothing to do or unpack, I registered with a site called Proust, which is sort of a social-networking scrapbook. Since I will never actually scrapbook, I thought this would be a wonderfully time-wasting way to record a legacy (Of what? For whom? Who knows?). Each week, the site sends me a reflective question to answer. Last week, the question was: What is the most spontaneous thing you have ever done? I really couldn't think of much at the time, but three days later, I was swimming with sharks. This was not at all what I was expecting of our visit to La Paz, where we were counting on the predictable tranquility of a city whose name means "peace."
We arrived pretty late at night, so we only had time to catch a few drinks downtown before bedtime. We chose a bar with cheap beer, bad karaoke, and a good view of the malecón, where the sharks were circling, cruising up and down the strip in their cars. It was too dark to get a good shot of the boardwalk at night, so I took a picture the next morning as we waited for our ride to the beach.
The city bus dropped us off at Playa Balandra (Sloop Beach, as in a pirate ship), where we lounged on the white sand and snorkeled in the clear water. A reef right by where we serendipitously set up camp provided a vista of many sea creatures, but no sharks.
The only species we saw stalking through the water was human, an ingenious ice-cream man who used the power of buoyancy to float his cart across the surf. A cup of strawberry ice cream went well with the shredded-pork tortas we packed in from town.
We were so lazy that we didn't even venture around the corner from the beach to see the peninsula's infamous Mushroom Rock, but luckily, I had a chance to take these photos from our boat the next day. Even farther around the bend were no sharks; the only animal was the namesake owl of Playa Tecolote (Owl Beach).
After so much relaxation, we needed to refuel with a expansive dinner, but on the way, we stopped to watch the women playing lotería, the Mexican version of Bingo, at Plaza Independencia. We thought about joining, but gambling women can strike much like sharks, so we kept our distance.
TJ's reconnaissance on an earlier trip to La Paz led us to dinner at Las Tres Virgenes (The Three Virgins), where the lure was not the name, but a mesquite grill. No shark roasted on the flame, but we filled our stomachs with lots of other seafood: tuna tartar, grilled octopus, sea bass with roasted red pepper sauce, and grilled shrimp with risotto. For dessert, we had an exquisite flan that did indeed make it feel like the first time.
The next day, we relented to waking up earlier for a tour of Isla Espiritu Santo (Holy Spirit Island), where we saw an abundance of natural wonders, including the nests of the frigate bird. Behind the break used to be oyster beds, which fueled John Steinbeck to select La Paz as the setting of his novella The Pearl. The industry declined, in part, because many divers died after shark attacks.
We circumnavigated Isla Espiritu Santo completely, including its partner island, La Partida (The Game). On the north end of La Partida sits Las Islotas (The Islets), where a colony of hundreds of sea lions lives free from the threat of sharks. While snorkeling, we saw a wonderful reef of fish, but by far, the highlight was floating next to the sea lions. A huge bull took my breath away when he swam right beneath me. TJ, on the other hand, got to frolic with a trio of pups.
Our lunch stop was at Playa Ensenada (Cove Beach) on La Partida. We washed down homemade triggerfish and marlin ceviche on tostadas (and ham and cheese on wheat) with beers, totally oblivious that an encounter with sharks awaited us.
I am pretty proud that I spied a pod of bottlenose dolphins on our way back to port, especially when TJ claimed to have seen a few fins on our way out. With this spotting, we were able to follow their graceful leaps across the bay. But we went our separate ways before we encountered a shiver of sharks.
Back on land, we saluted the sunset from Adriana's, a restaurant right on the malecón. I toasted it with a margarita far fiercer than any shark, while TJ sipped on beers and a Clamato cocktail. As a snack, we had chips, salsa, and guacamole, which tasted delicious but turned out to be a mistake.
With happy hour over, we crossed the street for dinner at Bismarck Cito, also known as The Lobster House. Already stuffed, we nonetheless fed like sharks on a school of seafood: paella and baked-oyster dishes that were well-appointed but not entirely well-prepared.
The next day, we had the morning to kill before our flight, so we caught breakfast at the mercado, then stopped by the Centro Cultural, where we perused an exhibit of photographs from the region, including some of native sharks.
What else can I say about La Paz? It was the reinvigorating respite which we both longed for, except for the shark part. Oh yeah, the sharks! How could I forget to mention that? At the end of our island tour, we came upon two whale sharks feeding in the bay (that's the top of its mouth next to those flippers).
Two minutes after I snapped this picture, we were in that man's place, swimming alongside the sharks. These sharks don't have teeth; they have a filter like whales to collect algae and plankton, but still we were warned to be careful of its mouth, which can damage something sucked into it, and its powerful tail. It actually was hard to steer clear, because the two sharks were crossing paths in the deep, opaque water. Right before they disappeared into the depths for good, one came up right under TJ, and he actually touched it! The skin, he said, felt like that of a toad, which is appropriate because the species is nicknamed "toadfish" because of the spots on its back. In the end, the only casualty was TJ's watch, which he lost in the sea during the flurry of exhilaration. And now, if you'll excuse me while I revise my post on Proust.
We arrived pretty late at night, so we only had time to catch a few drinks downtown before bedtime. We chose a bar with cheap beer, bad karaoke, and a good view of the malecón, where the sharks were circling, cruising up and down the strip in their cars. It was too dark to get a good shot of the boardwalk at night, so I took a picture the next morning as we waited for our ride to the beach.
The city bus dropped us off at Playa Balandra (Sloop Beach, as in a pirate ship), where we lounged on the white sand and snorkeled in the clear water. A reef right by where we serendipitously set up camp provided a vista of many sea creatures, but no sharks.
The only species we saw stalking through the water was human, an ingenious ice-cream man who used the power of buoyancy to float his cart across the surf. A cup of strawberry ice cream went well with the shredded-pork tortas we packed in from town.
We were so lazy that we didn't even venture around the corner from the beach to see the peninsula's infamous Mushroom Rock, but luckily, I had a chance to take these photos from our boat the next day. Even farther around the bend were no sharks; the only animal was the namesake owl of Playa Tecolote (Owl Beach).
TJ's reconnaissance on an earlier trip to La Paz led us to dinner at Las Tres Virgenes (The Three Virgins), where the lure was not the name, but a mesquite grill. No shark roasted on the flame, but we filled our stomachs with lots of other seafood: tuna tartar, grilled octopus, sea bass with roasted red pepper sauce, and grilled shrimp with risotto. For dessert, we had an exquisite flan that did indeed make it feel like the first time.
The next day, we relented to waking up earlier for a tour of Isla Espiritu Santo (Holy Spirit Island), where we saw an abundance of natural wonders, including the nests of the frigate bird. Behind the break used to be oyster beds, which fueled John Steinbeck to select La Paz as the setting of his novella The Pearl. The industry declined, in part, because many divers died after shark attacks.
We circumnavigated Isla Espiritu Santo completely, including its partner island, La Partida (The Game). On the north end of La Partida sits Las Islotas (The Islets), where a colony of hundreds of sea lions lives free from the threat of sharks. While snorkeling, we saw a wonderful reef of fish, but by far, the highlight was floating next to the sea lions. A huge bull took my breath away when he swam right beneath me. TJ, on the other hand, got to frolic with a trio of pups.
Our lunch stop was at Playa Ensenada (Cove Beach) on La Partida. We washed down homemade triggerfish and marlin ceviche on tostadas (and ham and cheese on wheat) with beers, totally oblivious that an encounter with sharks awaited us.
I am pretty proud that I spied a pod of bottlenose dolphins on our way back to port, especially when TJ claimed to have seen a few fins on our way out. With this spotting, we were able to follow their graceful leaps across the bay. But we went our separate ways before we encountered a shiver of sharks.
Back on land, we saluted the sunset from Adriana's, a restaurant right on the malecón. I toasted it with a margarita far fiercer than any shark, while TJ sipped on beers and a Clamato cocktail. As a snack, we had chips, salsa, and guacamole, which tasted delicious but turned out to be a mistake.
With happy hour over, we crossed the street for dinner at Bismarck Cito, also known as The Lobster House. Already stuffed, we nonetheless fed like sharks on a school of seafood: paella and baked-oyster dishes that were well-appointed but not entirely well-prepared.
The next day, we had the morning to kill before our flight, so we caught breakfast at the mercado, then stopped by the Centro Cultural, where we perused an exhibit of photographs from the region, including some of native sharks.
What else can I say about La Paz? It was the reinvigorating respite which we both longed for, except for the shark part. Oh yeah, the sharks! How could I forget to mention that? At the end of our island tour, we came upon two whale sharks feeding in the bay (that's the top of its mouth next to those flippers).
Two minutes after I snapped this picture, we were in that man's place, swimming alongside the sharks. These sharks don't have teeth; they have a filter like whales to collect algae and plankton, but still we were warned to be careful of its mouth, which can damage something sucked into it, and its powerful tail. It actually was hard to steer clear, because the two sharks were crossing paths in the deep, opaque water. Right before they disappeared into the depths for good, one came up right under TJ, and he actually touched it! The skin, he said, felt like that of a toad, which is appropriate because the species is nicknamed "toadfish" because of the spots on its back. In the end, the only casualty was TJ's watch, which he lost in the sea during the flurry of exhilaration. And now, if you'll excuse me while I revise my post on Proust.
I'd say swimming with sharks counts as pretty spontaneous. Awesome weekend.
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