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I have to wonder about the use of the international weather reports in the morning news leaflets here. I'm somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, why do I care if it's raining in Johannesburg or not? But they're delivered according to your nationality and I have the British edition, which says that it's sixty degrees in Aberdeen, and that's impossible at this time of year - I wonder if an oil rig exploded.
Today is the first day that we're in port in Mexico - we're docked at Mazatlan, which is famous for itsdepartment store furniture pottery. We were welcomed to the country by an announcer stumbling Boris Johnson-style through an unintentionally hilarious summary on the ship's live broadcast channel, saying things to the effect of "I don't want to sound racist or anything, but, um, er, leave your jewellery on board because, um, the Mexicans will probably steal all your stuff", followed by quite a large list of everything in the country that was likely to kill you, including the food, water, people, insects, animals and sunlight. (To be honest, Britain isn't the best at cultural sensitivity, and my own mental image of Mexico was pretty much this, perhaps the most blatant example of casual stereotyping in TV's recent memory.)
An entourage from the ship left to go up into the mountains this morning and watch some bricks being made, but being unable to stand the excitement I stayed a little closer and wandered around the town near the harbour instead. When you get off the ship you're transported across the harbour on a covered sort of tractor trailer, and walk through the terminal building into what looks like a militarized zone with an overpopulation of taxis. It was only after dithering about here for a while that I realized that you were actually allowed out on foot, and crept past the guards out on to the main road.
I took some photos as I wandered around the streets - the actual Mazatlan looks reasonably like a flatter version of the areas I've been to in California, with a lot of flat blocky houses painted in bright contrasting colours and giving the city the appearance of being built out of Duplo. I was particularly impressed with an enormous bright orange one until Whitney told me it was green. With the sun beating down on to my conspicuously white head I didn't go very far even though I had on sun-tan lotion about an inch thick, but I got some photographs of the rainbow of houses, a little outdoor swimming pool in a nook of one of the streets, a building that I think was the Immigration Centre (and which looked rather better than the American variety), and a neighbourhood of dogs that quickly barked me away as I walked into their cul-de-sac.
The other primary experience I had in the city was of the taxis, which circle around the main road in droves like large white mechanical sharks. After the fiftieth time that I had declined a lift to see the senoritas, I was beginning to feel like I was single-handedly ruining the country's economy, so I instead walked into one of the craft shops and bought a straw panama hat that might as well have a neon sign saying "TOURIST" on top of it. I completely failed to be confident in bartering like I'd been told to and paid the full price of $7 instead, but it'll be worth it for keeping the sun off (and so far there seems to be an overwhelming amount of it).
After I stepped off the sort of tractor-shuttle on the way back to the ship, I was interviewed by a Mexican TV channel - I was stopped by a short man with a giant camera and a tall man with a giant smile, and asked if I could say a few words to them. I agreed as long as I didn't have to wear the hat, and talked into the camera about how colourful the city was and the enthusiasm of its taxi drivers for a few moments, then sort of nodded along at likely-sounding words as the taller man interpreted what I'd said. Seeing as I speak no Spanish, he could have completely changed what I said, so I hope he wasn't saying something enormously offensive that I was then smiling at in agreement.
With the boat stable in the port, the view of the city from the air-conditioned observation lounge at the top of the ship is just lovely.
Today is the first day that we're in port in Mexico - we're docked at Mazatlan, which is famous for its
An entourage from the ship left to go up into the mountains this morning and watch some bricks being made, but being unable to stand the excitement I stayed a little closer and wandered around the town near the harbour instead. When you get off the ship you're transported across the harbour on a covered sort of tractor trailer, and walk through the terminal building into what looks like a militarized zone with an overpopulation of taxis. It was only after dithering about here for a while that I realized that you were actually allowed out on foot, and crept past the guards out on to the main road.
I took some photos as I wandered around the streets - the actual Mazatlan looks reasonably like a flatter version of the areas I've been to in California, with a lot of flat blocky houses painted in bright contrasting colours and giving the city the appearance of being built out of Duplo. I was particularly impressed with an enormous bright orange one until Whitney told me it was green. With the sun beating down on to my conspicuously white head I didn't go very far even though I had on sun-tan lotion about an inch thick, but I got some photographs of the rainbow of houses, a little outdoor swimming pool in a nook of one of the streets, a building that I think was the Immigration Centre (and which looked rather better than the American variety), and a neighbourhood of dogs that quickly barked me away as I walked into their cul-de-sac.
The other primary experience I had in the city was of the taxis, which circle around the main road in droves like large white mechanical sharks. After the fiftieth time that I had declined a lift to see the senoritas, I was beginning to feel like I was single-handedly ruining the country's economy, so I instead walked into one of the craft shops and bought a straw panama hat that might as well have a neon sign saying "TOURIST" on top of it. I completely failed to be confident in bartering like I'd been told to and paid the full price of $7 instead, but it'll be worth it for keeping the sun off (and so far there seems to be an overwhelming amount of it).
After I stepped off the sort of tractor-shuttle on the way back to the ship, I was interviewed by a Mexican TV channel - I was stopped by a short man with a giant camera and a tall man with a giant smile, and asked if I could say a few words to them. I agreed as long as I didn't have to wear the hat, and talked into the camera about how colourful the city was and the enthusiasm of its taxi drivers for a few moments, then sort of nodded along at likely-sounding words as the taller man interpreted what I'd said. Seeing as I speak no Spanish, he could have completely changed what I said, so I hope he wasn't saying something enormously offensive that I was then smiling at in agreement.
With the boat stable in the port, the view of the city from the air-conditioned observation lounge at the top of the ship is just lovely.
