Justification for that expectation based on the best information available (21USC360ccc)

After we got married last year, we almost got divorced because of the honeymoon. I wanted beachy relaxation, and TJ wanted gritty exploration. One of his suggestions, honestly, was Pittsburgh. I trolled through cheap vacation packages and pitched Mazatlán. We ended up in Chicago. I guess some part of me agreed with TJ that the all-inclusive route would be regrettable; as much as I like piña coladas poolside, I realized that I wanted our honeymoon to be more in line with the unique and active adventure that I hoped our wedded bliss would be. In other words, I caved.

After we spent five hours of our honeymoon at the Great Lakes Brewing Co. in the Cleveland airport because of a delayed flight, I thought maybe I shouldn't have given in. But after TJ was assigned to Mexico for the Foreign Service, it was as if karma was rewarding me for making my first marital compromise. And so, after trolling through vacation packages again, I found one for a long weekend in Mazatlán, just a few weeks before the time we traveled to Chicago last December.

After a few busy weeks, even TJ was ready for a trip filled with ocean views and fruity drinks. I packed three books, expecting I would get through as many as we lounged by the Pacific. As it turned out, the only time I read was in the airplane. As we are wont to do, our laid-back getaway turned into a full-blown discovery of a dying resort town. Now that it's no longer the Cancun of Mexico's west coast, we found plenty of unexpected reasons to venture outside of our hotel.

Of course, there was one reason we had anticipated: Pacifico. While much of Baja seems to be Tecate country, Mazatlán is clearly the land of Modelo, mainly because Pacifico was first brewed there. The going price was $1-2 a bottle, and we even drank a few with a view the promontories that can be found on its label: the smaller Cerro del Vigia (Lookout Hill) and the prominent Cerro del Crestón (a hill named after the points that were found on conquistadors' helmets). Unfortunately, you can't see our full vista, including the famous Faro lighthouse, in these photos.

But we hadn't counted on stumbling upon the brewery itself as we crossed through downtown to catch a water taxi. For most tourists, the closest contact they get with the beer is in buckets at the Canadian-themed sports bars or by the brewing-kettle Pacifico monument on the malecón, which has a bunch of interesting public-art sculptures to keep a seaside wanderer intrigued.

 

We were wandering down the malecón ourselves when we came across the Pacifico girls making what appeared to be a music video. We got to watch them shake their stuff twice as walked toward Playa Olas Altas (High Waves Beach). This shot was in front of an old marine fort, and later, they showed up at La Continuidad de Vida (Continuity of Life) monument. Strangely, not far from this sculpture is where cliff divers test their perfect timing as they risk their lives diving into pools in the rocky shore.

We also knew about the Mazatlán's colonial center, but we didn't figure it would be the undiscovered treasure of the town. The lovely Plazuela Machado is loaded with patio-dining restaurants whose patrons often are serenaded by notes lofting from the nearby Teatro Ángela Peralta (We tried to get tickets to a tango orchestra show, but it was sold out, during the city's popular cultural festival). But the surrounding blocks are full of architecturally impeccable facades that continue to crumble after hurricane damage and neglect.

In our opinion, the abandoned buildings seemed ripe for hostels and bars, considering there is a non-existent backpacker scene in the city. Of course, some of the great drinking spots that already exist might be ruined by that type of traveler. One was the bullfight-themed La Tertulía (left), where the bar was actually the brick and concrete wall behind which matadors escape from charging bulls. Another was Edgar's Bar (right), which billed itself as both a gentleman's club and photographic museum and revealed itself as a piano bar after we entered (incidentally, this was one establishment that did not serve Pacifico, only Tecate and other Modelo brands; perhaps that's why it had to cover its doors with a black curtain).

The aforementioned water taxi was our transport to Isla de la Piedra (Stone Island). I didn't really think the day trip would be worth it, considering that we had a perfectly serviceable beach right outside our hotel. Plus, it took some amazing feats of public transportation to get us there, since the Pacifico Maratón had cut us off from the main route to downtown. But the nearly deserted stretch of sand was definitely worth it. And TJ bought me a coastal canción and some aguachile that really sealed the deal.

 

Plus, since the island is really a peninsula, we could walk to the Isla de los Chivos (Goat Island) across the bay. TJ had promoted hiking up to the lighthouse (I think he was feeling lazy after not being able to run in the marathon), but we settled for scrabbling up the closer hill. Not only did it offer the same spectacular view of the undeveloped coastline to the south as the lighthouse hill, but there actually were wild goats -- baby ones!

 

Much to our surprise, the marathon route came right past our hotel, and since we opted for the cheaper non-ocean view, we could watch the runners out our window (left). There actually was a 5K the previous morning, which we might've contemplated entering, but TJ didn't bring his running shoes, and the night before the run, I got a migraine that ended in nausea. Even if we didn't participate, we still got the reward of watching the Festival de la Luz (Festival of Light) from our hotel's beach (right). Being blocked by the Zona Dorada (Golden Zone), we didn't get the full effect of the "Disneyland-style fireworks," but it was more than enough for us non-exercisers.

Actually, there were so many activities during our getaway that we almost forgot about the usual festivities that take place in December. On Friday night, we saw workers setting up Santa's workshop in a plaza by the cathedral. By Sunday night, it and a living nacimiento were in full swing, complete with burros, guinea hens, and more goats!

As much as I like goats, the featured animal of the trip was the turtle. Apparently, the marathon always coincides with the Liberación de las Tortugas, in which Pacifico girls (on break from dancing) hand out baby turtles to children in the community who release them for their long waddle to the sea. We held back at first, but TJ dragged me down behind the kids, and we got some real close-ups of the shelled youngsters.

The event, sponsored by Acuario Mazatlán, was truly an extravaganza. The aquarium reported that this year's release of 1,700 turtles set a new record, and I can believe it. At one point, the Pacifico girls started dumping turtles out of the coolers because every kid had already released one, and some two. I guess the girls needed the ice chests for ballenas instead.

With all these events going on, sometimes it was hard to get around, but for a resort city, we found the public transportation to be simple, affordable, and extensive. We stayed way north of the center, almost into the new all-inclusive developments of Nuevo Mazatlán, but it was still only a 20- to 30-minute trip on the bus downtown, and they came every 5-10 minutes. When the buses were out of service, we still didn't have to rely on taxis; instead, we took pulmonias. One kind is a pick-up truck with bench seats and an awning, which might pick up other passengers along your route; the other is a dedicated trip in a souped-up golf cart. Both let off some pretty potent fumes, which might be why their name is derived from the Spanish for "lung." 

In fact, we were on the bus during the most cloud-free sunset of the weekend. We didn't make it back to our hotel in time to see it come over Isla de los Venados (Deer Island), as we had hoped. But I must say, it looked beautiful, even through that bus's tinted windows. The night before, we saw the light fade behind the islands (left), and the night before that, we saw the La Paz-Mazatlán ferry sail off into the sunset (right).

 

I don't remember seeing any similar skies in Chicago, but if I have to wait for my second honeymoon to see such spectacular sights, so be it. I mean, if nothing else, it is a good sign for the quality of our third honeymoon, right?