Text by Jeff Book ~ CoastalLiving.com
Watching the waves from the terrace of El Shrimp Bucket, sipping locally brewed Pacifico between swallows of spicy seviche, you can easily picture the postwar years, the first peak of Mazatlán tourism. Early visitors such as John Wayne and Robert Mitchum came to sportfish, and to party in hotels along Olas Altas beach. The crowds that followed, from the 1960s on, lodged at resorts that sprang up along the miles of sand to the north. But recent years have seen a revival of the town's historic center, with restored buildings housing new restaurants and boutique hotels.
This makes Mazatlán a sort of tourism time capsule, offering travelers a range of styles from retro-modern to elegant-traditional to beach shack–funky. It's also a working port, the largest between Los Angeles and the Panama Canal, with some 400,000 inhabitants and genuine Mexican character. Its location—just below the Tropic of Cancer, on the mainland across from the tip of Baja California—ensures balmy weather and bountiful waters. The fleet of fishing boats ensures delicious seafood, especially shrimp. Overshadowed by trendier spots in coastal Mexico, Mazatlán has maintained a quirky appeal all its own.
Start with the town's signature transport, the overgrown golf carts known as pulmonías (pneumonias) for their open sides and breezy rides. Perfect for sightseeing, these zippy taxis suit Mazatlán's relaxed, tropical spirit. They're ideal for motoring from Old Mazatlán to the touristy Zona Dorada (Golden Zone) along a shore-hugging drive dotted with monuments, among them frolicking dolphins, sea nymphs, a heroic fisherman, even a life-size bronze pulmonía. On the seemingly endless strand, sunbathers loll and vendors roam, peddling cold drinks, clothing, jewelry, baskets, henna tattoos, and more. Parasailors take off like kites, pulled aloft by speedboats. And every Sunday evening, the Hotel Playa Mazatlán puts on a whiz-bang show of Mexican-style fireworks, pinwheeling and blazing from the beach.
“No other port in Mexico has this view,” declares Conchita Boccard from the patio of Casa Lucila, the small, luxurious hotel the Mazatlán native and her American-born husband, Chris, opened last year. The vista extends from the rugged hills around the historic center, to the distant conga line of hotel towers, to nearby islands that suggest painted backdrops floating in the Pacific.
