Christine Delsol
Friday, August 17, 2012
My first glimpse of Mazatlan capped a grueling 900-mile drive down the length of Baja on the just-completed Highway 1, followed by an overnight ferry across the Gulf of California. From a beach where hordes of pelicans casually milled about our feet, the city's palm trees and outdoor restaurants and boats dotting the Pacific waves were my idea of Xanadu.
Plazuela Machado, the original Spanish settlement, brims with street theater, art exhibits and parades. Restaurants and bars move their tables into the street at night, and live music spills from every other doorway. The elegant Angela Peralta Theater is the city's cultural center, hosting a steady schedule of symphony, dance and choral performances.
I could easily spend all my time around this little plaza, but I usually manage a hike to the hilltop lighthouse and a walk down Olas Altas, the monument-studded seafront boulevard, with frequent detours down the stairs to the beach. When the mood strikes, I'll hail a pulmonia, the city's unique open-air taxi, to visit other beaches and neighborhoods. And that's why I keep coming back: Old Mazatlan combines the cultural pleasures of a colonial city and the sybaritic diversions of the beach, all in one easily walkable district.
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