Day one Matzatlan
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the blue bus |
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7am and waiting |
Up at
5am - we need all the time we can get and not knowing if taxis would be ready
we were leaving early. Locking up unit #2 we felt safe leaving our second home.
The taxi was there and we arrived at the pickup point earlier than planned - 7am.
Finally the big blue bus arrived and Noel, our guide, jumped out and asked if
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relaxing after the bus ride |
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Noel - the Guide |
we were, "The Burds?" Bags on board we settled back for a seven hour
drive. Two pee stops,and four checkpoints later, we disembarked at the Crowne
Plaza in Mazatlan. A four star hotel complete with four star prices (good job we had a package) - very nice.
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another checkpoint |
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looking for illegals |
The
seven hour trip took us though Tepic, and the first part of this journey on
Route 200 was not a new road, just a two lane highway to Tepic, winding through
the coastal mountains North to the Port City of Mazatlan. Passing Tepic the trip was uneventful for a Mexican but
with a little drama for us 'gringos'. The bus was boarded by an immigration
officer who wanted to check for illegals as Route 200 was the main Continental
North-South highway and habituated by transients who sneak rides on anything
that moves. Passing through two more checkpoints - one military and one
agricultural we arrived in Mazatlan. An old settlement based on the harbour for
years morphed into an early tourist Town but is showing its wear. We stayed in
the Crowne Plaza located in the North end of the hotel zone, twenty minutes
away from downtown. Driving downtown the impression was that Mazatlan had seen
better times and the renewal typical of tourist Mexico was in full bloom. Not
so many renovations of old establishments just closed up places next to new
ones trying to start up. Definitely in transition. We will be seeing more on
the last day when we return and do the City Tour.
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dancing girls |
Noel has
explained that we would not be doing the City Tour today; it was Carnivale time. So a
couple of hours spent downtown, not seeing much because the instructions were
wrong and we were at the wrong end of the Parade. What we did see was colourful
and enjoyable.
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checking luggage |
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Posada del Hidalgo |
Up early
again - it will be the norm - breakfast finished and bags stowed and on the bus
at 8am for a five hour road trip to El Fuertes. However this road trip was not
without drama. Four checkpoints to pass through, one was an immigration check –
these guys poked and prodded the bus and even asked us to identify luggage
which we had to open.
After a
couple of hours we encountered another problem – the air conditioning packed
up. One of the passengers told of a trick to stop slipping belts (engine belts)
– drop antifreeze on the belt – it worked for about thirty minutes. So the rest
of the trip was spent hunting fresh air. But we did get to buy beer at the
truck stop!
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Inside the Posada |
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Posada courtyard |
Finally
arriving at the hotel Posada de Hidalgo, checked in found the light switches
(Mexico hides the switches) clean up and get back down for lunch. The Posada is
an amazing place, full of history and supposedly the birthplace of Zorro. Part
of a modern hotel chain there are no bargains here. A walking tour was arranged
and we saw the local museum – “El Fuerte”. A traditional Spanish battlement
this one had been restored and the interior space normally left open had been
built upon. The water cistern for the Town was built here in 1940. The interior
of the exterior was the museum and
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A view of the Town |
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Zorro and his band |
housed local artifacts and art works; the
standard stuff. A little walk around the town, which appeared to be a sleepy
little place with astounding architecture. We both said to ourselves “We could
stay here a while”. Evening time – time for the ‘happy hour’ and the appearance
of Zorro. Complete with his own band they turned up to serenade us and hug the
ladies. Back to the room and another early start tomorrow.
Day 3 the train
The
journey really begins. At the train station by 8am we climbed aboard at 8.20.
Found our seats, after initial confusion as the guide was struggling to
organise the luggage and have us seated in our numbered seats. Settling down to
a four hour ride it was ‘miller time’ again; another expensive libation but
worth it.
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The train on a bridge |
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The Hotel garden |
The
countryside was at first open scrub and non-noteworthy, but as we climbed it
changed. Ninety minutes into the ride the first engineering marvel, the longest
tunnel on the line – 1.2 miles long and three minutes of travel. Three hours into
the trip the train entered a passing place and we switched tracks with a
freight train. Ahead now we still have an hour before getting off at Bahuichivo
station then a 40 minute bus ride to the Hotel Mision located in Cerocahui.
With the rock cuts and tunnels the scenery is less than advertised. Dismounting
the train and then getting on to the bus we were ready for the forty minute
trip to the hotel. This road was being redone and we were in single file and
stuck in road works for some time, just a taste of what was to come later that
afternoon.
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Urique Canyon |
Lunch at
the hotel and then back on the bus – we were off to the Canyons. This time the
bus ride was ninety minutes of hairpin bends and edge nudging driving. The
vertical drops were considerable and would be fatal. We climbed to seven and a
half thousand feet and stopped at a scenic lookout. Beautiful panoramas were
before us. Twenty-eight camera clicking tourists got to work doing touristy
things and then we got back on the bus and descended the mountains. Back into
the confines of the hotel and drank some more wine. By this time the woodstoves
in our rooms had been set on fire and we finished the dinner to return to cosy
rooms. To sum up - a long day on the train and bus, compensated by a spectacular
view of the Urique Canyon.
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The viewing platform |
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Another view of Urique Canyon |
Day 4
Ceracahui
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A misty morning |
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I went walking these folks drank coffee in front of the fire |
Up early
to cool rooms, the fires long burned out and most of the wood gone. Plenty of
hot water in the shower and the bathroom soon warmed up. Early morning mist
covered the Town and a morning stroll uncovered the small Town’s sights.
Something wrong here large new houses built on small lots, asking the guide all
he said was “You know where the money comes from”. Nudge nudge wink wink! Being
in the gang State of Sinaloa my guess
would be dirty money and everybody likes it. Another sleepy Town but a couple
of interesting features. One was a small brick building with bars on the front and two
cells side by side, my guess the gaol.
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The Town Gaol? |
Back to
the hotel for a large Mexican breakfast and then the official walkabout. Saw
the Church, local grocery store and the Square. Next stop the railway station
after another trip down the new construction and one lane road. Since the
problems with the missing bags ( a couple of bags had not been transferred from
the last train and were found at the end of the line) everybody was herding
their bags much more carefully today. This train ride was only ninety minutes –
hardly time to down an expensive beer.
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Charles and his mother's bell |
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The cliff houses |
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The outhouse!! |
Arriving
in Barrancas and the Hotel Mirador, straight to lunch; keys handed out at the
time. The next tour was a walking tour to see the people living in the caves.
Bit of a stretch – the caves were only adobe huts
built into the cliff face but
the indigenous people were really living in cliff houses. One even had a pig
sty attached. The important part of this walk was the fulfilment of a family
obligation. Brother in Law Charles who had joined us on this trip had an
ornamental bell from his dead mother’s bell collection. He told us that he had
promised to take a bell back to the Copper Canyon some day as she had always
wanted to visit the place. Charles really didn’t know what to do with the bell once he arrived at the Canyon.
Thinking between throwing the bell from a high point or just dropping it on the roadside. Once he was faced with yet
another set of indigenous peoples selling the same stuff he encountered a young
girl selling pots. He knew exactly what to do – he gave it to her. She
immediately gave it to her smaller brother. Two happy people. Some people even
heard the bell tinkling in the morning presumably the little boy with a new
toy!
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The boy and his bell |
Apparently these dwellings have been against the cliff for about fifty
years proving some people will build where they can and now are part of the
local tourist trade. All we know is that the climb consisted of two hundred and
fifty steps both ways.
Entertainment
at six consisted of one man on a guitar and a good looking women dressed as a
cowgirl. Singing a mixture of Mexican and American songs his one hour medley
was the lead in to Dinner. With no internet or TV the conversation at dinner
was long and lively – twenty eight people had blended well. The highlight of
the day was the discovery at the Barrancas rail station that a member of the
group was still on the train. Noel the trusty guide hustled to the next train
station, he described the driver as a maniac (hard to imagine since all Mexicans normally drive like maniacs) and they pulled into the next
station just as the train pulled in. Hauling the miscreant off the train to
rejoin the group, the
tour resumed.
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Hotel Mirador, on the mountain |
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Local vendors selling pots |
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A native mother |
Day 5
Hotel Ziplining and the Cable Car
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Sunrise in the Canyon |
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Cable car |
Breakfast
at eight but everybody was up before sunrise, an easy deal as all the rooms
faced the sun, to see the sunrise. Today was a bit of a disappointment as the
clouds diffused the sun and we did not get a nice round ball – just sunlight.
On the bus again to see the entertainment site of the Federal Park. This
complex was where the zipline and the cable car set off. Also an entertainment
complex of miniature golf, trampolines and mini-bungee jumps and a climbing
wall was located – a veritable cornucopia of Mexican fun. I headed off to the
zipline and Doreen and Charles played it safe choosing the cable car. Eight
minutes of there and eight minutes of back and a hike in between – ledges to
climb on and more baskets to look at.
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Suiting up |
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A zipline |
The
zipline was another choice – one line seven thousand feet, claimed to be the longest
in the world, or a line with seven stages. I chose the seven stages. The
adventure started by signing the waiver form, upon which one line was a
beneficiary’s name, then a visit to the hut
where one was fitted out with the harness. This harness was a seat strap
where the loops wrapped around one’s thighs and rear-end to form a seat. This
harness was connected to the rolling device with carabiners attached to short
lines. The actual act of ziplining consisted of hanging from the rollers and
lifting one’s legs waist high and leaning back with both hands clasping the top
of the roller. The higher one lifted one’s legs the faster the zippier the
speed. As the cables between the start and finish hung down (sagged in the middle) the weight of the
zipper defined how fast one would arrive at the end. We were instructed to
brake by placing a gloved hand on the wire and pressing “Do not grab the wire
with a closed fist as it may snag and dislocate your shoulder!” If one did come
in too fast there was a braking mechanism that consisted of a sliding block of
wood that would make contact with another block of wood which would contact the
rollers. The sliding piece of wood was held fast to a length of rope which was
pulled hard by the human catcher to slow the speed of the zipper. The operation
of each zip was
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Ready to go |
started by the worker taking the roller from a backpack, each
one of us wore, placing it on the wire and then attaching the carabiners from
the harness to the roller, and when the wire was free from the other zipper let
us go. The rollers screamed, we hung on and tried not to get to upset when the
wind would catch us in the middle of the ride. Hoping that we had gauged the
correct position of our legs, it dictated how fast we would come in to the
catcher. Keep them too low and we would be stopping feet away from the catching
stand. When that happened one was instructed to swivel one hundred and eighty
degrees and then haul ourselves hand over hand to the stand. More on that
later.
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One of two footbridges |
After the first zip there was a footbridge to
traverse. This bridge was a suspension bridge 150 meters long. Normally a challenge
for even the hardiest but when there was, like today, an arsehole of a person
of Slavic origin who in trying to scare his girlfriend ended up rocking the
bridge and bouncing up and down like a maniac, it just made the crossing more
eventful and scary. Another bridge between stands four and five was a bit
better after we had shouted at the guy to tone it down.
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The double zip with the addition of the 'catcher' |
On to
zip five – eleven hundred meters long, it was the longest of the runs. Because
the lines were not tensioned really tight the weight of the line made it sag
considerably. Consequently to make the weight needed to be able to get to the
other side two zippers had to join together. One would be in front of the other
assuming the normal zipping position the other would be hanging close and wrap
their legs around the body of the front one. In theory it was good. I was
paired with a sturdy Mexican lady and all should have been well. But we ended
up ten metres short. Not able to perform the usual drill – swivel one-eighty
and then hand over hand, I wondered what was to happen as we hung there. I
attempted to hand over hand from the back but found it difficult. Help was at
hand; the catcher had zipped to our position and hooked his roller to ours and
he was able to hand over hand us back to the stand.
Finishing
the remaining stages without mishap we arrived at the cable car location and
were soon in the entertainment complex. Back to the hotel and then the station
to catch the train back to El Fuerte, connect with the bus and on to a new
hotel – The Santa Anita hotel in Los Michos. The last free dinner – a seafood plate, a little
dry and warm but we were supposed to be here two hours earlier!
Leaving
dead on eight we left the City of Los Michos, founded by an American who built
the railroad now an industrial City set in the marshes of the delta, for five
hours on the highway back to Matzatlan. The A/C has been fixed and now we are
in comfort but the A/C only has two positions high and off so wait for the
complaints. Fifty minutes into the trip the complaints have started; too cold,
now too hot. We can report that after the first pee stop two hours in, the heat
came up and we needed the max A/C then we heard no more complaints.
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The fields South of Matzatlan |
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Downtown restaurant |
The
flatland that we pass today is irrigated from the mountains and is one of
the ‘breadbaskets’ of Mexico. The rich soil can provide three crops a year for
corn and other vegetables. Roadworks are slowing us down repaving is taking
place. Nearer to Matzatlan the land becomes less flat and we see in some fields
acres of plastic tents – greenhouses for tomatoes. Standing about six feet high
and tan in colour they look like large ‘yurts’ (complex tents used in
Mongolia). Some fields are devoted to large acreages of corn. Obviously cheaper
to grow than labour intensive tomatoes.Back at
the Crowne Plaza time for lunch and then a walking tour of Maz. Driving along
the 20km Malecon the whole of the City comes into view – hotels and
establishments on the left and the sandy beach on the right.
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Downtown Mazatlan |
Downtown is of the
old and tired, just waiting for renewal. The jewel in the crown was the small
Town Plaza, mainly because of the ambience of the bars and restaurants that
line the square. But the main square is more utilitarian fronting the Cathedral
and Civic Centre. To sum up Mazatlan has three distinct areas – Marina/Hotel
zone, the Gringo hangouts/Hotel zone and Downtown.
Other pics of the area
These pics didn't fit the narrative but I liked them
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Acres of greenhouses |
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Cornfields |
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undercover vegetables |
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A street vendor |
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Waiting for a customer |
Day 7
Back to PV
On the
bus by eight and no stops until the refuelling two hours in. Next a lunch in
Las Valas, totally Mexican, the mesaritas certainly did not speak English, but
we made it through with the help of Noel. The last two hours passed quickly as
we recognised locations from earlier trips or the way up last week. The last
act of kindness was the dropoff at the condo location – sparing us a taxi ride.
Thanks to SuperiorTours of Puerto Vallarta