July 15
The boat is moving! We are crossing the Sea of Cortez! Woo Hoo!!!
Que dia… we stayed at the hotel as long as possible - checkout was at noon and I think we checked out at 11:57. With the bikes packed and our kevlar glued back on us (was again high 90’s by noon) we decided that since all the food we have eaten at local restaurants has been lousy and given us gastrointenstinal stress we mind as well go back to where it all began and just eat Sysco food at Applebee’s (as they have AC, Wifi, and a nice mural to stare at). It was perhaps more awful than expected, but whatever. That experience managed to take up two hours of our day, which was good since we didn’t want to get to the ferry until 5 or 6. We did a lot of research about possible stops and camping in mainland Mexico - from Mazatlan to Puerto Vallerta anyway. Not sure if what we learned is what we will do, but at least we have some maps and names of places to fall back on. We are both so curious about what Hwy 200 and that part of Mexico will be like.
Post-Apple-ick we went to the grocery store for agua, fruta, sabritas, etc. to get us through the evening and morning (as we actually have no idea what time we land in Mazatlan, and we will have at least 12-20 hours of ferry “stuff” before we might get to a store). We took as long as we could and decided all that we could do in La Paz had been done - it was either ride around and be hot and waste gas or it was time to just go to the ferry and buy tickets and wait. This was at about 3:00. By 3:10 we were at the gate to the ferry terminal. The tall young hispanic at the gate recognized us instantly. He asked if we were the same moto people from four or five days ago. Ha! He remembered because when he first saw us/our bikes (Triumph’s) he thought they said “Trump” and he got upset. Our very enthusiastic BOO’s and thumb’s down hand gestures made him smile and put him at ease. Unlike our last two visits to the ferry terminal, this time we had all our paperwork in order and were ready to cross. They (of course) only checked half of the paperwork we have accumulated… After the paperwork it becomes time for inspection, so the tall young man brought Ernie over to the “yellow station”. He was to press the button and if the light went to red that meant they had to inspect us/look through all our stuff. If the light went to green that meant we were free to go. Ernie pressed the button… green! We were free to go. Free to go about 100 m to a random building with strange ramps. And we are there so early in the day that at this point that no other cars or trucks are around, so we are the center of attention. So cue at least four if not five people waving us trying to tell us where to go. All wearing hardhats and orange vests. One woman was waving particularly enthusiastically. Ernie and I’s headsets were out so we had lost communication. We pulled to the side and were hoping to just walk up to office. But no, the waving continued. They were IN the building (we could see through window) and waving us on and asking to get on a weighing platform. We drove in circles… Circus music should have been playing. Eventually we figured it out; they wanted to make sure we weighed an “ok” amount and gave us a piece of paper that said we weighed an “ok” amount/weren’t smuggling concrete oars (forgive us Mexico, the phrase “weighing platform” never made it to either of our lessons).
Weight ticket secured, we circled around somewhere else where we got waved in to another area (which by the way was the opposite way that one of the only signs told us to go). Apparently it was just supposed to be apparent what we were supposed to do, but we were clueless. Signs that mean stuff are so great. We were really missing proper signs. And the place was so dead as it was still so early for an 8 pm ferry that it is likely every single employee of Baja Ferries was laughing hysterically at us over their walkie talkies as we bumbled around like total gringos! I’m giggling remembering it all (despite NOT giggling in the moment). We sort of park and Ernie went inside, and long story short, over the course of several visits he got us both tickets. Perhaps they were trying to find someone to speak a bit of English… We missed out some options during the ticket buying (more about that below) but as Ernie just said, it all came together. And again, we are moving across the Sea of Cortez right now :)
Post-tickets we sit in shade for two hours. We watch the two resident ferry dogs make their rounds. Probably at a rate of a round every 20 minutes. So a good six rounds of resident ferry dogs. And some serious staring at the saguaros in the distance. And a bit of graffiti. (Sorry Port of La Paz).
Suddenly we get directed to move. To where we don’t know. But we gear up, excited to be moving. We get a few hundred meters to the apparent “moto area”. There are about 8-10 other moto’s and their owners. It is the only place in Baja where we have seen other big motos - i.e., everyone on was 1400+ cc and not a 50-150 cc city bike. In the whole of Baja we have seen only two other riders on “big bikes” and even those were 1100 or les. There were 4-6 Harley-cruiser types, 2 BMW’s, then E and I. We were under the impression they were of Mexico’s upper crust. Those bikes must cost a lot of money down here. Heck they cost a lot of money in the USA. And they didn’t have any tires strapped to them HA HA. We didn’t talk to each other, but we exchanged smiles and nods. Truth be told, I’m not really sure how to acknowledge the Mexi moto man. My plan until someone tells me otherwise is to not to think about it too hard and just smile.
So we sat with them for about 45 minutes later we actually fire up to get onto the ferry, and holy cow was that sketchy! Deep crevasses and gaps in the ramps, probably a 15% grade. US American’s would just die thinking of crossing it. Guy in front of me on his 1200 BMW with street tires was slipping and sliding all over. I may have thrown up in my mouth a little over my own personal anxiety of biffing it on the ramp. But all dozen of us got up to the moto spot OK, so time for phase II, which was strapping the motos to boat itself. Several of the other motorists were prepared and pulled out their own personal straps, but we patiently waited for ferry guys to toss a few our way. We weren’t sure whether to strap them to the available places on the wall or the floor, but after we tied one to the floor and one to the wall a hefty-trying-to-be-bad-ass-but-really-too-sweet-looking-to-be-a-bad-guy came over and took the strap off the wall and pointed to the floor. Then winked at me. Got it.
Once both bikes were secure and we were about to drown in our own sweat, I loaded a stuff sack with the items we wanted for the evening (toothbrushes, snacks, glasses, Kindles, iPads, flip flops, pillows, etc.) and (still skinned with kevlar) we head up a deck of the boat that is less than 140 degrees and contains more oxygen than carbon monoxide. We arrive up to “Deck B” and are totally confused. Tara desperately searches for a map of the boat. Where are we, what is available, what is accessible? We are early so is there a potentially good spot up for grabs? Two women behind an acrylic wall are selling sleeping cabins. Huh? We ask them, but all the cabins are sold out. When were we to know sleeping cabins were available? Ok fine, we’ll find a quiet corner. But finding a quiet corner is hard to do without a map! We bumble around, knowing we are still early and knowing it will fill up fast. We looked for a place with soft things and no luck. So Plan B was a place with a floor with a wall or some “privacy” where we could at least sleep, and we found some outside the bar and restaurant. We got one (?). How bad could it be? How many people could be on this boat?
The boat is filling fast. Getting louder and louder. There is a foosball table down the hall. There are eight people that share genes screaming and laughing and having a kick ass time playing foosball. Ernie and I are watching in awe. Ernie says, “There is no american family that ever has that much fun together”.
Back to our location… two lessons here. 1) the food comes with the boat in Mexico. So every person on this boat was in line, next to us, to get food. This went on from 6 pm to about 9 pm. 2) the “bar” is also a performance stage. There is a BAND (i.e., ~50 year old dude with guitar, ~30 year old woman, speakers, and a disco light that is likely intentionally “pointed” his guitar to make his guitar go red then purple then green). Not sure what their first song was, but it was mild and Mexi-country in spirit. Their second song (as surreal as it may be) was “New York New York”. You know, “I’m el rey of de hill! Numero uno! If I can make it there I’ll make it any where!” (Actual lyrics that were sung by “the band”). Needless to say, at the beginning it didn’t look like an all night crowd in there.
But then Achy Breaky Heart (sp?) busted out, and almost instantly ~15 middle aged, ~180 lb women line dancing with one fabulous gay man in the middle (who was sporting a fabulous leather fanny pack). On-lookers taking pictures and videos with cell phones. Everyone was in love with the scene. The energy continued well into Act II, which was karaoke. And unlike in US America, these people cheer the shit out of everyone that gets up there. So whatever the heck we just listened too, the crowd loved it! The next woman is belting out sounds that dont’ suggest pleasantries, but the cheers continue and don’t decrease in their enthusiasm. It is almost 11 pm. Will the Baja Ferries authorities cut off this fun? There is probably not a noise ordinance on the Sea of Cortez…
This is all very real. And very unpretentious. Mexicans are very unpretentious and joyful, and Ernie and I are really enjoying that.
We are the only white people on this boat. Ernie and I (and apparently a bunch of other Mexicans who giggle at us as they walk by) are also really enjoying that.
That was a long one. Sorry readers. We had lots of time to write on the ferry...
July 16
Mainland Mexico! Since we just learned that you can’t buy beer after 5 pm on Sunday’s (doh!), we are celebrating with the that 35% ABV tequila we’ve been carrying around (true confession). Ah, we are hoping for an early night as we are both quite tired. The photo on our map shows our lavish accommodations on Baja Ferries. Not surprisingly, neither one of us really slept. There were people or children making heaps of noise at almost all times (maybe 30-60 minutes of quiet during the middle of late-nighters and early-risers). And they never turned the lights off on the boat. But we were expecting that though, which is why we planned on just finding a place in Mazatlan today and resting up for a long-ish ride tomorrow.
Once we got off the ferry (which in of itself was a two hour adventure - mostly waiting around and taking cues from what the other moto dudes were doing in preparation) we successfully navigated our way through and to North Mazatlan (yes! Non-trivial! Go us and our map studying paying off!). We are both surprised at how big Mazatlan is and how big (and high) the hotels are. Must be 20km of beach and tourismo area. There is a great 1950’s feel, lots of bright colors, beautiful rocky islands just off shore (which I believe they have names like “goat” and “deer”). It is officially off season, but that just means no white people. Lots of Mexicans are on vacation so even though we are tourists just like them we are still sticking out like sore thumbs.
On the map it looked like there were a half dozen camping/RV parks in North Mazatlan, but we only found two. Neither of which were awesome, but the one we ended up at we could walk to the beach. So as soon as we made our own shade and cooled down a bit, that is what we did. Our first Mexi-swim! The waves were strong… Only waist deep water and both the incoming and outgoing tides pushed and pulled us around like ragdolls. And so salty! So much saltier than the PacNW water. Our skin and eyes - even the way we floated in it… Was very fun, and I shall never forget watching Ernie smile and bound about in the waves…
Post-swim we strolled through (a.k.a., insepected) our four food options at Point Cerritos. Two were almost strictly seafood, which is great but I’m not ready. I can hear Ned in my head… Shout out to you Ned - “Tara! Eat what is local! Remember: the best thing about the ocean is that it turns things we can’t eat into things that we can eat”. But still couldn’t bring myself to eat the fish, which is 90+% of the menu. The place we decided on was terrible… ate it only because “no carne left behind”. Ernie even ordered the fish and it was terrible. And why was it smothered in cheese? Do Mexican’s really do that to fish tacos? Or do they just do it when white people show up and order fish tacos? We have been disappointed and disgusted with the food for days now (La Paz, Tijuana, La Paz, Mazatlan). Which is extra disappointing as we are only having one meal a day (other consumption is nuts, fruit, snacks, etc.). We are REALLY hoping we get out of this tourist scene and into some comida ASAP. We don’t want to complain… let’s call it an acknowledgement of the lack of care from both perspectives.
Finally got a bit of cloud cover, but also lost a bit of our breeze…. We did a bit of guess-timation and we think it will take us two weeks to get to Guatemala. I do hope it gets a bit more pleasant (weather wise) as we head south. In Baja the Pacific side was so much more pleasant than the Sea of Cortez side, so maybe we just have to get a little further away from it.
“Ernie, we wrote most of this post together, but do you have any final thoughts about our travels to and in Mazatlan?”
“The food is sad.”
“I’m happy we are in mainland Mexico.”
“And it doesn’t seem like the interactions with the locals have been genuine, probably because they have all been service people. Hopefully they become more genuine as tourist towns become fewer and further between.”
The boat is moving! We are crossing the Sea of Cortez! Woo Hoo!!!
Que dia… we stayed at the hotel as long as possible - checkout was at noon and I think we checked out at 11:57. With the bikes packed and our kevlar glued back on us (was again high 90’s by noon) we decided that since all the food we have eaten at local restaurants has been lousy and given us gastrointenstinal stress we mind as well go back to where it all began and just eat Sysco food at Applebee’s (as they have AC, Wifi, and a nice mural to stare at). It was perhaps more awful than expected, but whatever. That experience managed to take up two hours of our day, which was good since we didn’t want to get to the ferry until 5 or 6. We did a lot of research about possible stops and camping in mainland Mexico - from Mazatlan to Puerto Vallerta anyway. Not sure if what we learned is what we will do, but at least we have some maps and names of places to fall back on. We are both so curious about what Hwy 200 and that part of Mexico will be like.
Post-Apple-ick we went to the grocery store for agua, fruta, sabritas, etc. to get us through the evening and morning (as we actually have no idea what time we land in Mazatlan, and we will have at least 12-20 hours of ferry “stuff” before we might get to a store). We took as long as we could and decided all that we could do in La Paz had been done - it was either ride around and be hot and waste gas or it was time to just go to the ferry and buy tickets and wait. This was at about 3:00. By 3:10 we were at the gate to the ferry terminal. The tall young hispanic at the gate recognized us instantly. He asked if we were the same moto people from four or five days ago. Ha! He remembered because when he first saw us/our bikes (Triumph’s) he thought they said “Trump” and he got upset. Our very enthusiastic BOO’s and thumb’s down hand gestures made him smile and put him at ease. Unlike our last two visits to the ferry terminal, this time we had all our paperwork in order and were ready to cross. They (of course) only checked half of the paperwork we have accumulated… After the paperwork it becomes time for inspection, so the tall young man brought Ernie over to the “yellow station”. He was to press the button and if the light went to red that meant they had to inspect us/look through all our stuff. If the light went to green that meant we were free to go. Ernie pressed the button… green! We were free to go. Free to go about 100 m to a random building with strange ramps. And we are there so early in the day that at this point that no other cars or trucks are around, so we are the center of attention. So cue at least four if not five people waving us trying to tell us where to go. All wearing hardhats and orange vests. One woman was waving particularly enthusiastically. Ernie and I’s headsets were out so we had lost communication. We pulled to the side and were hoping to just walk up to office. But no, the waving continued. They were IN the building (we could see through window) and waving us on and asking to get on a weighing platform. We drove in circles… Circus music should have been playing. Eventually we figured it out; they wanted to make sure we weighed an “ok” amount and gave us a piece of paper that said we weighed an “ok” amount/weren’t smuggling concrete oars (forgive us Mexico, the phrase “weighing platform” never made it to either of our lessons).
Weight ticket secured, we circled around somewhere else where we got waved in to another area (which by the way was the opposite way that one of the only signs told us to go). Apparently it was just supposed to be apparent what we were supposed to do, but we were clueless. Signs that mean stuff are so great. We were really missing proper signs. And the place was so dead as it was still so early for an 8 pm ferry that it is likely every single employee of Baja Ferries was laughing hysterically at us over their walkie talkies as we bumbled around like total gringos! I’m giggling remembering it all (despite NOT giggling in the moment). We sort of park and Ernie went inside, and long story short, over the course of several visits he got us both tickets. Perhaps they were trying to find someone to speak a bit of English… We missed out some options during the ticket buying (more about that below) but as Ernie just said, it all came together. And again, we are moving across the Sea of Cortez right now :)
Post-tickets we sit in shade for two hours. We watch the two resident ferry dogs make their rounds. Probably at a rate of a round every 20 minutes. So a good six rounds of resident ferry dogs. And some serious staring at the saguaros in the distance. And a bit of graffiti. (Sorry Port of La Paz).
Suddenly we get directed to move. To where we don’t know. But we gear up, excited to be moving. We get a few hundred meters to the apparent “moto area”. There are about 8-10 other moto’s and their owners. It is the only place in Baja where we have seen other big motos - i.e., everyone on was 1400+ cc and not a 50-150 cc city bike. In the whole of Baja we have seen only two other riders on “big bikes” and even those were 1100 or les. There were 4-6 Harley-cruiser types, 2 BMW’s, then E and I. We were under the impression they were of Mexico’s upper crust. Those bikes must cost a lot of money down here. Heck they cost a lot of money in the USA. And they didn’t have any tires strapped to them HA HA. We didn’t talk to each other, but we exchanged smiles and nods. Truth be told, I’m not really sure how to acknowledge the Mexi moto man. My plan until someone tells me otherwise is to not to think about it too hard and just smile.
So we sat with them for about 45 minutes later we actually fire up to get onto the ferry, and holy cow was that sketchy! Deep crevasses and gaps in the ramps, probably a 15% grade. US American’s would just die thinking of crossing it. Guy in front of me on his 1200 BMW with street tires was slipping and sliding all over. I may have thrown up in my mouth a little over my own personal anxiety of biffing it on the ramp. But all dozen of us got up to the moto spot OK, so time for phase II, which was strapping the motos to boat itself. Several of the other motorists were prepared and pulled out their own personal straps, but we patiently waited for ferry guys to toss a few our way. We weren’t sure whether to strap them to the available places on the wall or the floor, but after we tied one to the floor and one to the wall a hefty-trying-to-be-bad-ass-but-really-too-sweet-looking-to-be-a-bad-guy came over and took the strap off the wall and pointed to the floor. Then winked at me. Got it.
Once both bikes were secure and we were about to drown in our own sweat, I loaded a stuff sack with the items we wanted for the evening (toothbrushes, snacks, glasses, Kindles, iPads, flip flops, pillows, etc.) and (still skinned with kevlar) we head up a deck of the boat that is less than 140 degrees and contains more oxygen than carbon monoxide. We arrive up to “Deck B” and are totally confused. Tara desperately searches for a map of the boat. Where are we, what is available, what is accessible? We are early so is there a potentially good spot up for grabs? Two women behind an acrylic wall are selling sleeping cabins. Huh? We ask them, but all the cabins are sold out. When were we to know sleeping cabins were available? Ok fine, we’ll find a quiet corner. But finding a quiet corner is hard to do without a map! We bumble around, knowing we are still early and knowing it will fill up fast. We looked for a place with soft things and no luck. So Plan B was a place with a floor with a wall or some “privacy” where we could at least sleep, and we found some outside the bar and restaurant. We got one (?). How bad could it be? How many people could be on this boat?
The boat is filling fast. Getting louder and louder. There is a foosball table down the hall. There are eight people that share genes screaming and laughing and having a kick ass time playing foosball. Ernie and I are watching in awe. Ernie says, “There is no american family that ever has that much fun together”.
Back to our location… two lessons here. 1) the food comes with the boat in Mexico. So every person on this boat was in line, next to us, to get food. This went on from 6 pm to about 9 pm. 2) the “bar” is also a performance stage. There is a BAND (i.e., ~50 year old dude with guitar, ~30 year old woman, speakers, and a disco light that is likely intentionally “pointed” his guitar to make his guitar go red then purple then green). Not sure what their first song was, but it was mild and Mexi-country in spirit. Their second song (as surreal as it may be) was “New York New York”. You know, “I’m el rey of de hill! Numero uno! If I can make it there I’ll make it any where!” (Actual lyrics that were sung by “the band”). Needless to say, at the beginning it didn’t look like an all night crowd in there.
But then Achy Breaky Heart (sp?) busted out, and almost instantly ~15 middle aged, ~180 lb women line dancing with one fabulous gay man in the middle (who was sporting a fabulous leather fanny pack). On-lookers taking pictures and videos with cell phones. Everyone was in love with the scene. The energy continued well into Act II, which was karaoke. And unlike in US America, these people cheer the shit out of everyone that gets up there. So whatever the heck we just listened too, the crowd loved it! The next woman is belting out sounds that dont’ suggest pleasantries, but the cheers continue and don’t decrease in their enthusiasm. It is almost 11 pm. Will the Baja Ferries authorities cut off this fun? There is probably not a noise ordinance on the Sea of Cortez…
This is all very real. And very unpretentious. Mexicans are very unpretentious and joyful, and Ernie and I are really enjoying that.
We are the only white people on this boat. Ernie and I (and apparently a bunch of other Mexicans who giggle at us as they walk by) are also really enjoying that.
That was a long one. Sorry readers. We had lots of time to write on the ferry...
July 16
Mainland Mexico! Since we just learned that you can’t buy beer after 5 pm on Sunday’s (doh!), we are celebrating with the that 35% ABV tequila we’ve been carrying around (true confession). Ah, we are hoping for an early night as we are both quite tired. The photo on our map shows our lavish accommodations on Baja Ferries. Not surprisingly, neither one of us really slept. There were people or children making heaps of noise at almost all times (maybe 30-60 minutes of quiet during the middle of late-nighters and early-risers). And they never turned the lights off on the boat. But we were expecting that though, which is why we planned on just finding a place in Mazatlan today and resting up for a long-ish ride tomorrow.
Once we got off the ferry (which in of itself was a two hour adventure - mostly waiting around and taking cues from what the other moto dudes were doing in preparation) we successfully navigated our way through and to North Mazatlan (yes! Non-trivial! Go us and our map studying paying off!). We are both surprised at how big Mazatlan is and how big (and high) the hotels are. Must be 20km of beach and tourismo area. There is a great 1950’s feel, lots of bright colors, beautiful rocky islands just off shore (which I believe they have names like “goat” and “deer”). It is officially off season, but that just means no white people. Lots of Mexicans are on vacation so even though we are tourists just like them we are still sticking out like sore thumbs.
On the map it looked like there were a half dozen camping/RV parks in North Mazatlan, but we only found two. Neither of which were awesome, but the one we ended up at we could walk to the beach. So as soon as we made our own shade and cooled down a bit, that is what we did. Our first Mexi-swim! The waves were strong… Only waist deep water and both the incoming and outgoing tides pushed and pulled us around like ragdolls. And so salty! So much saltier than the PacNW water. Our skin and eyes - even the way we floated in it… Was very fun, and I shall never forget watching Ernie smile and bound about in the waves…
Post-swim we strolled through (a.k.a., insepected) our four food options at Point Cerritos. Two were almost strictly seafood, which is great but I’m not ready. I can hear Ned in my head… Shout out to you Ned - “Tara! Eat what is local! Remember: the best thing about the ocean is that it turns things we can’t eat into things that we can eat”. But still couldn’t bring myself to eat the fish, which is 90+% of the menu. The place we decided on was terrible… ate it only because “no carne left behind”. Ernie even ordered the fish and it was terrible. And why was it smothered in cheese? Do Mexican’s really do that to fish tacos? Or do they just do it when white people show up and order fish tacos? We have been disappointed and disgusted with the food for days now (La Paz, Tijuana, La Paz, Mazatlan). Which is extra disappointing as we are only having one meal a day (other consumption is nuts, fruit, snacks, etc.). We are REALLY hoping we get out of this tourist scene and into some comida ASAP. We don’t want to complain… let’s call it an acknowledgement of the lack of care from both perspectives.
Finally got a bit of cloud cover, but also lost a bit of our breeze…. We did a bit of guess-timation and we think it will take us two weeks to get to Guatemala. I do hope it gets a bit more pleasant (weather wise) as we head south. In Baja the Pacific side was so much more pleasant than the Sea of Cortez side, so maybe we just have to get a little further away from it.
“Ernie, we wrote most of this post together, but do you have any final thoughts about our travels to and in Mazatlan?”
“The food is sad.”
“I’m happy we are in mainland Mexico.”
“And it doesn’t seem like the interactions with the locals have been genuine, probably because they have all been service people. Hopefully they become more genuine as tourist towns become fewer and further between.”