Actually we are still here, sitting poolside at El Cid Marina, as the lure of the pool and other amenities were more appealing than the indicated forecast of 10-20kts on the nose heading south. There were even about 17 raindrops this morning.
Mazatlan is hustle-ville. If they can't pitch you a free tour (aka a real estate pitch to a captive audience) then numerous restaurant coupons are thrust into your reluctant fists. Every camioneta (small, open Japanese pick-ups with bench seats in the back) or pulmonia (hybrid VW beetles that have almost, but not quite, morphed into golf carts) driver wants you as a passenger, and every restaurant, from the tourist focused to the local eateries at the mercado are on the look out for business.
Once you immunize yourself to the hustle, it is a pleasant place. Lots of package tourists, especially during the US Thanksgiving period, and the mostly ugly hotels to accommodate them, but beyond them in the old town, the opportunity to visit the buildings and plazas of the old town, eat local food (the liquados, aka smoothies are huge, affordable and divine), and hang out with Mexican folks. At one stage we were swarmed by a group of school kids, determined to practice their English, and hang out with who they thought were movie stars!
We've hiked the hill to the lighthouse, ridden on all forms of local transport, and provisioned everywhere from the local corner store, to the mercado and the new hypermarket. All have their own merits. The boys have swum in the surf on multiple beaches, and enjoyed all the pools at the marina. Maybe it's time to move on before troppo madness, or even gringo inertia take hold.
Picture is of us lunching at the Mazatlan mercado, with a camioneta in the foreground.