letters to brutus
Lac Echo, with the top down and that song turned way up loud. Everything else I heard, however, was Mexican music, in Spanish, which again testifies to the strength of their excellent culture. The moon was almost full, and the Sea of Cortez was calm, with enough of a tailwind behind us to make the air on deck seem still. Altogether it was a very enjoyable crossing, getting into Mazatlán about : the following morning.
Dec. , ’ Cuernavaca Okay, it’s a new scene now: I hope you’re keeping up with the program. We’re staying at the very excellent “Las Mañanitas” here, one of those Relais and Chateaux joints, I noticed by the front entrance when I arrived; after touring around for a while looking for it! Cuernavaca remains as difficult to navigate in daylight as it was when we arrived in the dark. Apparently this place has been ranked among the best hotels in the world, and I can believe it, with lush lawns and gardens in a peaceful walled courtyard, decorated with peacocks, crowned cranes, flamingoes, and parrots, and an elegant suite with a private terrace. And yes, I chose it from the Lonely Planet guide. I can’t imagine how we ended up in that lowlife “posada” last time, unless you were going through the Rough Guide in what’s-hername’s Volkswagen, on the way from the airport! Anyway, we’re getting ahead of our story, aren’t we? Getting off the ferry in Mazatlán, around eight in the morning, I had been powerfully tempted to head straight for the old “Devil’s Backbone” up to Durango and the “silver cities,” but adding up days, subtracting Sundays (for “practical purposes,” i.e., Mexico City service and resupply), and planning toward meeting up with Steven in a week or so, way over in Belize, plus not wanting to