Wednesday, January 6, 2010 Mazatlan
This morning we went on the Country Tour. I was expecting a small bus, but we ended up in a van. There were 13 of us in the van, including the driver and guide. I did not realize it until she told me when we got back, but Celeste was the third person in a two person seat – and her seatmates were not skinny. She spent the day hanging on by one cheek trying not to fall on the floor. I was third in a three person and was just barely able to perch both cheeks on the seat, although my right one was resting on a steel bar. With us were a retired man from Prince Albert and his son from Saskatoon, another couple from Prince Albert, a couple and their adult daughter from Kelowna, another couple (who might also have been from Prince Albert), and us. (There are lots of Canadians here and I have even seen a few Roughrider t-shirts.)
Our first stop was an open field beside the road near the airport. There was a bus from the same company already stopped there and I thought that maybe this was a transfer point and we would be moving to the bus, but such was not the case. Apparently, there were two cruise ships in town, and they gobbled up all the best transportation. The people from the other bus were in the field watching some kind of demonstration. Our guide did not really explain anything, so we followed the crowd and found the guide from the bus explaining a brick making operation, so we followed along.
A man was mixing up clay that he had dug up and wetted. We missed the whole recipe, but I heard cow dung mentioned.
A woman took the wet mixture and packed it into a form that makes four bricks at a time.
The bricks are allowed to dry on the ground until solid, and then stacked up to dry thoroughly.
Then they are restacked with a hollow space on the bottom.
The hollow space is filled with wood and the whole stack is fired. It is covered somehow and kept hot for a couple of days. This firing process turns the brick orange. They are now ready to be sold to middlemen who distribute them through various outlets in the city.
Next stop was a small town called Malpica (Mal-PEE-kuh). There an artisan showed us how he makes decorative cement floor and wall tiles with a 130-year-old press. 
Other artisans also displayed their crafts there.
We also snuck a peek into the neighbours’ back yards.
Across the street was a small local bakery that did a booming business, especially when the previously mentioned bus showed up behind us. Once again, our guide did not have much to contribute and we got most of our information from the other guide. I think our guy was a second stringer called out because of the unusual number of tourists that day.
From Malpica, it was on to Concordia. Our guide led us to the municipal building – sort of a city hall and police station. Again, he had little to say, so we wandered around the main square until it was time to go.
Last stop, and the prime goal of the tour, was Copala (Coe-PAH-lah). This town was founded by a Spaniard in 1565 because of the presence of gold under it. Gold is no longer mined there.
It is primarily a tourist and artisan town. Once again, we explored on our own, and then went to a local restaurant for a traditional meal.
An interesting sidelight is this Manitoba licensed car we spotted. Later, I walked by this house and heard the owner telling someone that he owns this house and another in Mazatlan. He said he pays $2 a year taxes on this one and $13 a year in Mazatlan. Mind you, I don’t think he gets much in the way of services.
From Copala, we returned to the resort in plenty of time for our dinner reservation in their Italian restaurant. Once again, the food was very good, but a little different from home.
Our first stop was an open field beside the road near the airport. There was a bus from the same company already stopped there and I thought that maybe this was a transfer point and we would be moving to the bus, but such was not the case. Apparently, there were two cruise ships in town, and they gobbled up all the best transportation. The people from the other bus were in the field watching some kind of demonstration. Our guide did not really explain anything, so we followed the crowd and found the guide from the bus explaining a brick making operation, so we followed along.
A man was mixing up clay that he had dug up and wetted. We missed the whole recipe, but I heard cow dung mentioned.
A woman took the wet mixture and packed it into a form that makes four bricks at a time.
The bricks are allowed to dry on the ground until solid, and then stacked up to dry thoroughly.
Then they are restacked with a hollow space on the bottom.
The hollow space is filled with wood and the whole stack is fired. It is covered somehow and kept hot for a couple of days. This firing process turns the brick orange. They are now ready to be sold to middlemen who distribute them through various outlets in the city.
Next stop was a small town called Malpica (Mal-PEE-kuh). There an artisan showed us how he makes decorative cement floor and wall tiles with a 130-year-old press. 
Other artisans also displayed their crafts there.
We also snuck a peek into the neighbours’ back yards.
Across the street was a small local bakery that did a booming business, especially when the previously mentioned bus showed up behind us. Once again, our guide did not have much to contribute and we got most of our information from the other guide. I think our guy was a second stringer called out because of the unusual number of tourists that day.
From Malpica, it was on to Concordia. Our guide led us to the municipal building – sort of a city hall and police station. Again, he had little to say, so we wandered around the main square until it was time to go.
Last stop, and the prime goal of the tour, was Copala (Coe-PAH-lah). This town was founded by a Spaniard in 1565 because of the presence of gold under it. Gold is no longer mined there.
It is primarily a tourist and artisan town. Once again, we explored on our own, and then went to a local restaurant for a traditional meal.
An interesting sidelight is this Manitoba licensed car we spotted. Later, I walked by this house and heard the owner telling someone that he owns this house and another in Mazatlan. He said he pays $2 a year taxes on this one and $13 a year in Mazatlan. Mind you, I don’t think he gets much in the way of services.From Copala, we returned to the resort in plenty of time for our dinner reservation in their Italian restaurant. Once again, the food was very good, but a little different from home.
posted by Celeste at
4:31 p.m.
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