There is a big bustling city just up the road from Mazatlán, but it is not even mentioned in the Lonely Planet and other guide books. Most tourists probably never even hear about it. Not that they’re missing much. It’s sort of like Mexico’s answer to Des Moines or Omaha on the hottest day of summer. Don’t bother bringing the camera. Still, hang around anywhere long enough, even a tropical paradise like Mazatlán, and a yen develops for something totally different. A cheap and easy cure for this itch is to go to Culiacán for a quick visit. Upon returning, Mazatlán seems wonderful again. It’s only an eleven dollar bus ride that takes two and a half hours. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a decent, or at least, bearable movie. If not, enjoy the view of crops growing. You will arrive at a giant bus station. Take a cab or, better yet, a city bus (camion ciudadano) called “Cucas” to la Catedral in el centro. As a rule, the Cathedral is usually the best place to start exploring a Mexican city, and Culiacán is no exception. Look for the twin peaks with the neon crosses towering over the downtown skyline. The adjoining plaza is not overrun by shoeshine stalls like some places I could mention, but it manages to convey a certain charm nonetheless. It has sort of a Plazuela Machado feel to it, with sidewalk cafes, and wrought iron benches draped with couples too shy to get a room. Of course, like everything in Culiacán, it is on a much grander scale than our humble little burg to the south. Let’s face it, there is a lot of money in Culiacán. After all, it is the capital. They rake all the money in and it trickles down from there. Most of it stays in Culiacán. There are six lane streets. Downtown intersections have Walk/Don’t Walk signs. The drainage system works. Government offices have computers instead of typewriters. Culiacán is an ideal place to send your kids to college. The University of Sinaloa’s main campus is there, and it is probably the most well-behaved school this side of Brigham Young U (as opposed to, say, my alma mater The U of Wash, where the Ave is lined up and down farther than the eye can see with one watering hole

after another, and the sidewalks are overflowing with grunge poets and other corrupters of youth. Not to mention the frat parties). In Culiacán, there’s no place to raise hell. Don’t even try. Tens of thousands of earnest, fresh faced students fill the internet cafés and ice cream parlors. Good luck finding a bar. The whole town pretty much shuts down well before ten. That’s where I want my daughter to go to school. There are lots of fun things to do in Culiacán. There is a big zoo, lots of well-kept parks, a protected riverfront, and all sorts of museums both large and not-so-large. There is a shrine to Jesus Malverde, a 20th century Robin Hood. There is a flag even more impressive than the one at Olas Altas. And the coolest thing I saw, aside from the Pedro Infante movie on the way up, was a meteorite, one of the heaviest ever found on earth. An iron boulder that has traveled the cosmos, it now sits rusting on a pedestal outside the science museum, exposed to the rain, wind and sun. For some reason, there are sushi joints everywhere. Jasmine tea is sold at every beverage stand. But finding a cold Pacifico is almost impossible. Almost! Kind reader, for your benefit I searched and quested the streets of Culiacán and finally, at 131 Angel Flores, just a couple of blocks from the Cathedral, I found the unholy grail. Boasting forty years in the same location, La Ballena is a little gem of a restaurant which features ice cold Pacificos at only eight pesos a pop (as of press time). They don’t have sushi, but if you can stand beef, chicken, or seafood, they’ll take care of you. Not only is the place clean, the architecture is attractive, the paint job is professional, and the view of the sidewalk refreshing after all those panoramic Mazatlán ocean sunsets. So here’s your plan: Take a mid-morning bus, arrive in the early afternoon. Wander around a bit. Get lost and stumble at last onto Angel Flores. Stop for a plate of bistek and frijoles, and wash it down with a beer or two. Wander around some more. As the sun sets slowly behind the buildings, get out of town. Catch a southbound bus and arrive back in the cool of the evening, wiser and more appreciative of this crazy place called Mazatlán.